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rrrrinmaru · 2 years

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one who is loved by all (marius x mc, birthday fic)

wc: 1.4k rating: T

As the prince of the kingdom, it was expected that his birthday will be a grand event. Fireworks, grand gifts, maybe three elephants and five carriages worth of jewellery; Marius was a loved prince, after all. You weren't surprised at the extravagance, or the extent to which the kingdom would go to in order to make Marius know he was loved.

"Jiejie," he murmured, rolling his shoulders back as he adjusted the way his clothes fell on his shoulder, making sure each button was turned just right. "I'm tired."

"I'm not surprised," you told him, eyeing his reflection in the mirror. "This is your third outfit of the day, and it's barely lunch."

"That painting was entirely unnecessary," he groaned, checking his arm braces. "They paint it every year. I don't change that much, do I? One painting every, say, three years, is good enough. I look exactly the same as I did last year, just in a different outfit."

Well. You couldn't say you agreed. You didn't personally know Marius last year, but you knew of him--who could live in this country and not know of his existence? The enigmatic prince, the most desirable bachelor, the man who made dames and gents alike swoon whenever he gave them a faint smile; Marius had made a name for himself ever since he stepped out into the limelight, and that bright light never stopped shining on him.

And the Marius of last year, compared to the Marius of the current year--there was a slight difference. Imperceptible, perhaps, to the man himself, but you could tell. There was a different air about him. A gravitas that the old Marius didn't have. He used to be confident in a brash sort of manner, a reckless child who demanded respect because he thought himself worthy of it.

Now, he'd mellowed out. He'd honed his craft, tongue as silver as the moon, and the way he carried himself is different. You thought it could be the burden of becoming the heir after the disappearance of his brother, the late nights and long hours, spiralling into a force that pushed him to mature faster; he simply felt different, different from his old self.

"At least the day is almost over," you said encouragingly. "Just the coronation, then the parade, and the dinner, before you're done for the day."

"You say that like it's easy," he replied, giving you a side glance. "The coronation is, well, if needs must, but the parade? The glitz and the glamour and the crowd cheering?"

"You like the crowd cheering."

"But I'm tired today." Marius turned fully, lips pulling down into a pout as he leaned towards you. "I don't want to ride a horse through the streets and listen to them sing my praises. Not today, at least. Maybe tomorrow."

Laughter always came easily to you when you were with him. "The crown can't reschedule your birthday parade, Marius."

"It's my birthday. They should make a few exceptions." He sighed, and your hand instinctively lifted to his head, wanting to pet his hair.

You paused. His hair was done by a stylist just a few minutes prior, and you couldn't mess it up. Not even a single strand could be out of place or you would feel incredibly guilty.

Marius, on the other hand, seemed to have his own opinion. He pressed closer, as if trying to push his head into the curve of your palm.

It was a difficult fight, but you resisted. You pulled your hand away, giving him an admonishing look.

"I have to go for the parade, sit upright and look presentable, and you won't even pat my head." He shook his head dramatically, giving you an incredibly forlorn look. "Jiejie, this doesn't even feel like my birthday. Maybe a torture day."

You tried to think of something to cheer him up with, but came up short.

"You can do it," you said lightly, patting him on the back. "It'll be over in a flash!"

"Lies and slander, jiejie. Lies and slander."

You watched him fiddle around with his appearance a while longer. Then, out of nowhere, the thought hit you.

"Do you want my present now, then?" You asked, mouth moving faster than your mind. "Or do you want it at the end of the day?"

Marius froze. A series of emotions quickly flashed over his face, and you could barely hold back your laughter at how torn he looked. He opened his mouth after a while, as if determined and certain about his decision, then closed his mouth just as fast, thinking twice.

"I don't know," he muttered, pouting as he looked at you. "That decision's too hard to make. Can't you give me half now, and half later?"

You can't really split your present into half like that. But with the look that he was giving you--you thought it over, trying to see if you can somehow stretch it out.

"Okay," you said slowly, moving to the door. "I'll give you… the bigger half now. You can have the smaller half… tonight."

He blinked at you. "The bigger half…?"

Before he could ask anything, you dart into the corridor, rushing to the room where all the presents were kept. Yours was squirrelled away into a corner, sitting in an unobtrusive manner, away from the gigantic pyramid of carefully wrapped presents.

Yours… couldn't really be wrapped.

You hurry back with the larger present, hoping there was still enough buffer time before Marius had to show up in the main hall for his coronation ceremony. It would be fast--you just had to hand it over to Marius, wish him a hasty happy birthday as was the typical birthday procedure, and then he'd be off.

You stop in front of his door. With one free hand, you pat your cheek, trying to get rid of the flush that settled in on your way here. You can do this! A few simple steps and it would be over; you had to stay cool and calm, and not give Marius any ammunition! He'd never let you live it down if he saw you this red!

As you tried to give yourself a pep talk, the door flew open.

"Jiejie, you were just standing outside--"

He cut himself off, staring at you with wide eyes.

"Here," you said roughly, shoving the bouquet at him while pointedly looking elsewhere. "For you. Happy birthday, Marius.”

He didn't take the bouquet so much as it fell into his arms. Marius held it gingerly, eyes huge from shock as he looked it over, carefully peering at every handcrafted rose.

"Did you make this?"

You're tempted to say something sarcastic, like lying that you bought it off the blacksmith, but then you see the glimmer of affection in his eyes and the urge to pass it off as a joke dies in your chest. You swallow, gathering all the courage you have left in your gut.

"I made it. With help, of course, from Kiki's friend."

Marius looked at you with a childlike wonder in his eyes, lips curving in a brilliant smile. "For me?"

You huff, turning your head to the side. "Who else?"

He held the bouquet up, admiring it in the light. The roses were crafted from metal, fine wire twisted into the shape of a rose. The very first rose took you over five hours to make, and you managed to shave your time down into a flat two hours after the twentieth rose.

"I love it," he said quietly. "Thank you."

"I thought you would like something handmade--handcrafted, because I know you like creating. This isn't, well, you can get better quality ones if you commissioned it and paid extravagantly, and I know I messed up a little here, right there on this rose, and--"

Marius leaned in, eyes soft as he cupped your cheek. He was close, close enough that you feel the way his breath felt across your lips, and you felt the urge to look away but his gaze was simply too captivating. He drew you in, holding you in place, and you stood there dumbly.

"I love it," he repeated, voice barely a whisper. "It's the most thoughtful thing anyone's ever given me. Thank you, princess."

"I'm not a princess," you said, the words coming out of your mouth in a dazed breath, instinct pushing the familiar retort from your chest.

Marius gave you a smile, one of those cheeky ones that meant he knew something you didn't, and then--

Before you could resist, he pressed his lips to yours lightly, just a brief brush that made your nerves spark, and then he pulled back.

"Cherry lipstick," Marius said, brows lifting. "I can't say I'm against it."

#rin writes tot #marius fanfic #marius x reader #marius von hagen #Tears of Themis #tears of themis marius #tot #tot fanfic #marius x mc #lu jinghe #lu jinghe x reader #lu jinghe x mc #lu jinge fanfic #hbd from jiejie #happy birthday from jiejie #marius birthday

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chorusfm · 2 months

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Sasha Alex Sloan Announces New Album

Sasha Alex Sloan will release Me Again on May 17th. Today she’s shared the title track. Sasha Alex Sloan has today announced her forthcoming album Me Again and shares the painstakingly beautiful title track. Written and recorded in Nashville, where she now lives with her husband and their many pets, Sloan’s third album, Me Again is a portrait of an artist in a state of unrest. With a career built on cheeky, at times irreverent, pop-inflected songs that directly pointed to her embattled emotional health, Me Again is Sloan fully realized. “With this album, I wanted to be more honest, because I was fucking sad,” she unveils. On the heart-stopping title track, Sloan inhabits an earlier version of herself. Written a few years ago, Sloan had initially filed the song away, but rediscovering “Me Again” ignited a spark that would define the essence of this album. It’s a reminder that the past is ever present, but despite this, we keep moving forward, waving to the ghosts in the rearview. She assures herself on “Me Again” that life’s only promise is impermanence. “The perspective reflects how I felt writing this whole record,” she adds. “Kind of confused, hopeless, knowing there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, but now knowing how things are gonna play out or how I’m gonna get there.” Born and raised in the Boston area, Sasha Sloan started writing songs as a teenager and was accepted to the prestigious Berklee College of Music. Her schooling was cut short when, at 19, she signed a publishing deal and moved to Los Angeles. RCA released Sloan’s first EPs, Sad Girl, Loser, and Self-Portrait in quick succession, followed by her first two albums, Only Childand I Blame the World. Prolific output established Sloan as a wunderkind songwriter to watch, and she amassed songwriting and feature credits with artists as disparate as Juice WRLD, Idina Menzel, Charlie Puth, Kygo, and Sam Hunt. As her star rose, she played to late night audiences, amassed over five billion global streams, grew an audience of nine million monthly Spotify listeners, and went gold and platinum before turning thirty. Despite all of this, she was struggling. Last year, a month after she played Coachella, Sloan announced she was going independent, news that would surprise anyone observing her from the outside, thinking she’d really made it. “Suddenly the thing that made me happy, that made me who I was, gave me crippling anxiety,” Sloan said. “My whole life has been about music. I needed to slow down, to figure out who I was outside of that.” Going independent forced Sloan to take responsibility for every aspect of the writing process: “It’s freeing but equally terrifying. I can’t hide behind anything. I made all of these choices.” To craft Me Again, Sloan had to act like no one would ever hear it. Aside from a few collaborative sessions with choice songwriters she trusted, like Joy Williams (the Civil Wars) and Ruston Kelly, Sloan wrote the entire album with her husband, King Henry, picking up a guitar or scribbling down a lyric as they went about their life as a couple. Sloan was determined that the instrumentation not distract from the plainspoken admissions in her lyrics, making the album feel like a conversation between intimates. “Me Again had to be simple and organic, like you can listen to it and imagine four people on the stage performing these songs.” --- Please consider becoming a member so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/news/sasha-alex-sloan-announces-new-album/

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wandaromanova · 3 years

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Can you do a fluffy wanda one (with a little angst because of course) where reader and wanda are best friends, reader wants more, but thinks wanda is interested in vision so she doesnt say anything. And then one day a mission goes wrong, and reader gets into an accident that results in her getting powers, and it makes wanda wake up and confess her feelings?

Requited Love

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, injury, that’s all!

A/N: hello! i hope you enjoy what i’ve created out of your request, anon! sorry i couldn’t think about how i could incorporate the powers part of the request! not proofread, so i apologize for any grammatical errors! join my taglist here <3

Summary: Wanda Maximoff and Y/N L/N are your typical best friends who refuse to admit their feelings for each other.

Word Count: 3.3K (had a lil too much fun with this)

(gif is not mine)

You and your best friend, Wanda, had been friends practically since the moment she had joined the team. Being the youngest Avenger, you were so excited that there would finally be another member that was close to your age. Despite the events of Sokovia, you didn’t fear the woman. If anything, it only made the urge to get closer to her stronger.

Her powers absolutely mesmerized you. From the color of her powers to the different ways she could use them to her advantage; it was mind blowing how much power she had literally at her fingertips. As time went on, you and Wanda became very close. You’d always have movie nights together in your room, which eventually led to the Sokovian woman peacefully sleeping next to you in your bed.

Not only was Wanda drop dead gorgeous, but she was genuine and humble. She had confided in you about the many different traumas she had been through and expressed how the surreal amount of grief constantly consumed her. It broke your heart to know that such an amazing person was put through so much.

Her past could’ve easily turned her into a villain, but she decided to go the opposite direction. She came to the conclusion that her powers could help others and that’s what she had chosen to do in Sokovia and up to now. It was why she had agreed to join the Avengers in the first place. Wanda knew how awful the world could be and she wanted to be there for people the way that her family had been before they passed. The amount of respect you had for Wanda was immeasurable.

Over the span of two years, you and Wanda became joined to the hip. Wanda didn’t even sleep in her own bed anymore. Before, she would just accidentally fall asleep in your room or sneak into your room in the late hours of the night to sleep with you. But now, she just barged into your room every night and slept there. She said that you kept the nightmares she had at bay and you were more than happy to be there for her if it meant she got a full night’s rest.

You both jumped at any opportunity you guys could to be on the same mission as the other. You not only wanted to spend time with her, but you wanted to protect her. Lord knows that Wanda of all people could handle herself, but it kept you at peace when you were with her; knowing that she had you to back her up. Naturally, you fell in love with your best friend.

At first, you thought you were just confusing your special platonic friendship with Wanda for romantic feelings. But sometimes you caught yourself wanting to kiss Wanda. You knew damn well that friends don’t daydream about making out with each other. So, yeah, you definitely had feelings for Wanda, but there was one thing standing in your way; Vision.

Vision basically joined the team at the same time Wanda did. He was created during the Ultron situation and has been an Avenger since then. Wanda and Vision were very close. They weren’t as close as you and Wanda were, but he was a close second. They had a bond over the mind stone that you couldn’t ever compete with. This fact discouraged you and forced you to keep your mouth shut. You’d rather keep your feelings to yourself and suffer in private than risk your friendship with Wanda.

I mean, you didn’t even know if Wanda was into girls! She could be as straight as a wooden ruler and you would most definitely embarrass yourself if you told her. Vision wasn’t exactly a man by any means, he was a robot. If Wanda were to like Vision that must mean you had a chance right? Not to be an ass, but he’s literally a hunk of metal. Regardless of all these thoughts, you knew at the end of the day that you would have to hide your feelings for the sake of maintaining the relationship you currently have with the Sokovian.

You did pretty good at hiding your feelings for awhile. You acted as if everything was normal and not like you were emotionally crying out inside every time you saw Wanda with Vision. It began to get too much when you had caught sight of the pair cooking Paprikash in the communal kitchen. Cooking was something you and Wanda used to do together. It was kind of your thing. It may seem silly, but watching her do something with Vision that used to be sacred to you both hurt.

You began to distance yourself the closer Wanda and Vision got together. What sucked even more was that Wanda didn’t even acknowledge your sudden distance. She no longer slept in your room, opting to spend her nights with Vision. You were dying inside and Wanda didn’t even care to notice.

You had a mission to get to today. Usually, Wanda would be down in the hangar whenever you were going on a mission without her, but she wasn’t there today. She was probably off somewhere with Vision, again. It stung that Wanda didn’t even want to see you off. She was so preoccupied with Vision that she didn’t even give you a second thought. A toaster was stealing your best friend who you just so happened to be madly in love with away from you. And you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

So, you reluctantly got onto the Quinjet with Steve who was accompanying you on the mission. Fury only sent you two in for this mission because it was a simple one. It didn’t require the entire team to complete. You both were to capture and detain the scientist responsible for the latest human experimentations at the hands of Hydra. From the intel gathered by S.H.I.E.L.D, their security wasn’t that bad so it would be a walk in the park for you and Steve. You had just left and you already desperately wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity in the comfort of your bed.

But first, you had to get this mission over with. The Quinjet landed a little far away from the small Hydra base. You and Steve made your way out of the jet and began to trudge your way toward the building. As you guys got closer, Steve stopped abruptly.

“No matter what, we stick together okay? Just because this should be an easy mission, doesn’t mean we should let our guard down. Understand?” He lectured you sternly as he stared at you intensely.

“Yeah. I got it, Cap.” You replied to him dismissively as you continued to make your way toward the building. You took note of the five guards that were guarding the entrance and gave Steve a nod before you both sprung into action.

After you guys had taken down the entrance guards, you both sneakily made your way into the building. It was pretty easy to find your target, seeing that the building was the size of a house. You and Steve barged into the room, the scientist whipping around quickly and freezing in shock at the sight of you both.

Steve quickly charged at the man and placed him into handcuffs. As Steve pulled the man up by the collar, forcing him to his feet, a thought crossed your mind. This is too easy. Only five guards and the professor was just conveniently in here? This had to be a setup.

Before you could voice your concerns to Steve, you felt a sharp pain rip through your shoulder as Hydra agents flooded into the room. You fell to your knees in pain as Steve threw the target to the ground. He quickly began to fight as many agents as he could. You stood up as you tried to temporarily forget the pain. You began to take on agents yourself. Despite being injured, you kicked their asses with ease.

You were down to the last agent while Steve was pulling the scientist back up to his feet, much more aggressively this time. For some reason, your thoughts went to Wanda. How would she react to your injury? Would she even bother to visit you to make sure you were okay?

Unfortunately, you had chosen the wrong time to become distracted by your thoughts of Wanda. While your thoughts were racing, you failed to notice the glint of a knife in the agent’s left hand. As you blocked one of his punches, he quickly stabbed you right in the stomach. At this, Steve jumped in to help you and made quick work of knocking out the man who stabbed you.

You fully fell to the floor this time, gasping for air. Not only were you shot, but now you got stabbed. Seriously? Did god decide you weren’t already having a shitty enough time? Steve quickly picked you up in his arms in a panic. He carried you to the Quinjet while making sure the scientist was following behind you both. Steve placed your body onto the medical table that was in the Quinjet, handcuffed the man to a railing, and sped off to the compound. He took note of how much blood you lost; it was a lot to say the least. If he didn’t get to the compound soon, he feared you wouldn’t make it; and that wasn’t an option.

The 30 minute trip to the compound turned into a 15 minute ride. Steve quickly rushed you into the medical wing of the compound and placed you into the care of Doctor Helen Cho. He knew he had to tell the team about what happened. The Avengers were a family, and you being the youngest meant you were like a child to them, well besides Wanda obviously.

Steve hurriedly made his way into the living room of the Avenger’s living quarters and made sure Jarvis informed everyone that it was an emergency. As Steve entered, everyone turned to face him with worry present on each of their faces.

“What’s wrong, Rogers? Is everything okay?” Natasha asked as she looked over his body. There was an insane amount of blood all over his star-spangled suit. “It’s Y/N.”

At Steve’s words, everyone in the room stood in shock as their jaws dropped. But no one’s feelings could compare to Wanda’s. She abruptly stood up from the couch and made her way towards Steve.

“What about her? What happened to her?” Wanda began to get angry as hints of her powers made their way to her eyes. Steve took a step back and looked at Wanda before returning his gaze back to the other people in the room. You could hear a pin drop in the silence of the room.

“We went on a mission together. It was supposed to be an easy in and out thing. But we were setup. She got shot in the shoulder and stabbed in the abdomen. She’s in the medical wing right now.” Steve spoke strongly, attempting to remain calm for the sake of the team, but he was terrified inside. Your state refused to leave his mind. Your limp body in his arms as your warm blood covered his hands.

Wanda didn’t say another word as she ran towards the elevator and impatiently hit the button to the medical wing. She didn’t bother to wait for anyone else. Nothing mattered right now except you.

Wanda had feelings for you. Ever since she met you, you were this light in the darkness that was her life. You could cheer her up when no one else could. You knew her better than she knew herself. You were not only her best friend, but you were the woman she was irrevocably in love with. She was terrified to tell you how she felt. She thought she would lose you if she had confessed how she truly felt for you. So, she remained quiet and tried to forget about her feelings for you by hanging out with Vision more. She wasn’t using Vision by any means, she genuinely did enjoy his company. But he wasn’t you.

Wanda didn’t even wait for the elevator doors to fully open as she squeezed herself through the small gap and made her way towards the medical bay doors. Before Wanda could open the door, Steve abruptly grabbed her hand, stopping her from going any further. He must’ve taken the stairs. Damn his super soldier abilities.

“Wanda. Stop. I know you’re worried about Y/N, we all are. But barging in there won’t be any help. You need to let Cho and her nurses focus on helping her.” Steve desperately tried to talk some sense into Wanda; it worked. Wanda’s shoulders slumped as she made her way towards the seating area that was right outside the doors. All she could do was sit, wait, and pray to whatever god there was that you would be okay.

Wanda didn’t even know you were going on a mission today. If she did, she would’ve went to the hangar and hugged you before she left, like she always did. Oh fuck, she didn’t even get to see you off and now look at your state. Now that she thought about it, she had been neglecting you for some time now. She let her fear of her feelings consume her. She spent more time with Vision than with you, and now she wasn’t sure if she would get the opportunity to be with you again. The thought of not being able to tell you how in love with you she was mortified her. This was the wake up call she needed.

——————————————————————————

2 hours later

After two agonizingly slow hours, Doctor Cho made her way towards the anxious group of heroes. Wanda shot up from her seat and approached Helen.

“How is she? Please, tell me she’s okay.” Wanda asks as she nervously chews on her bottom lip. “Y/N is fine. Luckily, the knife didn’t hit any major arteries. She won’t be able to make any sudden movements for the next few weeks which means no missions until I give her clearance.” At Cho’s words, the entire team was struck with relief. Wanda’s eyes lit up at the good news. You were okay. You were still here.

“Can we see her?” Steve asked from behind Wanda as he made his way to stand beside her. “Yes, shes awkward, but only one person can go in at a time. She’s very sensitive right now from the anesthesia.” Helen gave the team a smile before walking off.

Everyone looked at Wanda as she gave them a nod. Of course she had to go in first. You and Wanda may have been oblivious to each other’s feelings, but the team wasn’t. It was almost annoying how unaware you two were of how the other person felt.

Wanda quietly made her way into your room and almost let out a sigh of relief as she saw you laying on the table awake. You were trying to reach for a glass of water beside your bed, but the pain in your side made the small task a burden. Wanda quickly made her way to the table and handed you the glass of water. You were startled since you didn’t even hear her enter the room. You took the water from her hands and took a long sip before handing it back to her.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked coldly as you glared at the Sokovian woman. She was shocked at your animosity. You were never like this with her before. “I needed to make sure you were okay. I was worried sick.” Wanda frowned as she pulled a chair up to your bedside and sat in it.

“Oh. Now you suddenly remember I exist? It only took me nearly dying for you to notice me again.” You knew you weren’t being fair. You guys were just best friends and she was entitled to hang out and be with whoever she wanted. But the part of you that loved her and longed for more took over.

“Y/N. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as often. I got caught up hanging out with Vision when I should’ve been there for you.” Wanda’s eyes softened as she stared at your face. She missed you so much. She may have seen you around the compound, but she hasn’t been this close to you in what felt like decades.

“Yeah. You got caught up with Vision. Why don’t you just go back to him now. I’m fine.” You stubbornly spoke as you tore your eyes away from Wanda and stared out the window in front of your bed.

Wanda made a ballsy move and grabbed your hand in here. Thankfully, you didn’t move it away. “Y/N. I don’t care about Vision, I care about you. I love you and I mean that in more than a friendly way.” At Wanda’s words, your head snapped back to her as you looked over her features for any indication of a lie; you didn’t find any.

“I was spending time with Vision to try and forget my feelings for you. That obviously backfired and only solidified what I already knew I felt. I’m sorry it took such a terrible situation for me to finally grow the balls to tell you this. I love you Y/N.” Wanda squeezed your hand tightly as she stared at you full of love and adoration.

You were speechless. As cliche as it sounds, this was what you’ve wanted since the moment you laid eyes on her. She said the three words you’ve been longing to hear spill from her mouth. She loved you too.

“I love you too, Wanda. I’m sorry. I thought you had a thing for Vision and I let jealousy and insecurity get the better of me.” You looked down in shame as you tried to pull your hand out of Wanda’s hold, but she only gripped it tighter.

“Don’t be sorry. I completely understand. I’m so glad your okay and I’m so unbelievably happy that you feel the same way.” Wanda smiled brightly at you as you smiled right back. You guys must’ve looked like maniacs with your big, cheesy smiles, but you didn’t care.

Wanda began to slowly lean towards you. You attempted to meet her in the middle, but only ended up wincing in pain as you were reminded of your impressive stab wound. Wanda let out a laugh.

“Let me handle it, moya lyubov (my love).” Wanda said before closing the gap between you both and giving you a heated, desperate kiss. All the pent up emotions that you both had been withholding from each other were coming to light through this kiss. You guys were interrupted by the door swinging open abruptly and the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You both jumped apart as you cringed at the sting of your injuries. You turned to the door and caught sight of the team standing at the door with shit eating grins on their face.

“Sorry to interrupt you, lovebirds. But we wanted to check on Y/N too. Cho gave us the clear to come in now.” Natasha smirked at yours and Wanda’s flustered states.

“Pay up, Barnes.” Sam said as he held his hand out to Bucky, who groaned before placing 50 dollars in his hand. You and Wanda stared at the two confused, Bucky took notice of this and decided to fill you both in.

“We made a bet on when you two would get together. I said in the next two months, he said in the next two weeks. He won.” Bucky gave you both a shy, almost embarrassed smile.

Everyone in the room laughed, making you and Wanda turn even more red than before. You didn’t care about the inevitable, endless teasing you would have to endure after today. You would deal with the comments forever as long as it meant Wanda was by your side. You once thought that she didn’t feel the same, and you were so glad you were proven wrong. Sometimes, love can be requited after all.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #avengers #scarlet witch #request

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

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MC’s half Demon, and they look AWFULLY familiar...

‘Kay guys, I got a different kind of stupid Headcanon to throw at you. Get ready!

Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Part 2.5 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

*ahem* picture if you will, it’s the day the exchange program is set to start. The student council (nix Mr. Kill All Humans, Weeb-supreme, and our Scummy Sweetheart) have assembled to welcome the new human student. All is going according to schedule, the portal opens up at eight am sharp, they hear the pitiful screams of the selected human who was not given a heads up about the whole thing, and the poor little human falls straight onto the marble floor.

There’s something a tad... off about this human don’t you think? After they’ve peeled their sorry ass off the floor they observed the assembled student council with an air of sophistication and self importance that no one expected. Their posture was perfect, their eyes sharp and calculating... they bared a striking resemblance to-

“Lucifer,” Diavolo looked to his right hand man, then back to the human. “The human kind of looks like you!”

And out popped four pitch black wings from the human’s back and two small horns out of the sides of their head, one horn was a bit bigger than the other. They even still had some of their down feathers! How cute!

((Content warning: Swearing (I have a potty mouth, forgive me), but that’s it.))

Luci-dad

So, the MC is Lucifer’s kid! Of course Mr. Prideypants immediately tries to recall exactly what little romp in the human world uh... spawned this half-human half-demon child of his. Good thing MC’s got the other parent on speed-dial.

“Please note, MC,” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose upon hearing Asmo take even more pictures of his newly discovered hellspawn. “I was not aware of your existence, if I was I’d-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset.”

Lucifer blinked a few times in surprise. “P...pardon? You aren’t upset?”

“No, my parent told me that my father was a high ranking demon, and they bare no ill will against you. Though, I am looking forward to this whole... exchange program thing.”

Oh wow, that was easier than Lucifer thought. Damn. Well, he was a father... (let’s be real, he’s been parenting his brothers for thousands of years, and a good chunk of you sinners call him daddy)

MC is probably the most protected student at RAD, despite the fact that they have no visible security detail whatsoever. They didn’t want to be seen as... weak and pathetic.

Something about this human just... set the lesser demons on edge. Any talk of eating them was stamped out on the first day when they walked by. It’s like Lucifer himself was staring at them, daring the demons to try and bother the human. MC’s powerful presence kept them protected and feared.

...at least until dear uncle Asmo decided to do their hair one morning. All those ribbons may have looked adorable but they kind of ruined the intimidation factor.

MC loved to mess with the other students, keeping their lineage a secret for the first little while just made it so much funnier when the other demons tried to scramble out of MC’s way without looking like they were running from the ‘weak little human exchange student’.

Oh wow, what a sadist. Like father like child

Flying lessons are a must. Poor MC isn’t terribly good at controlling their wings, and their horns are still growing in so when they pop into their demon form the first thing they get is a sore skull. Ow... it sucks that Lucifer isn’t outwardly very sympathetic.

“Ow!” MC crashed face first into the grass in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. “Father! My wings are cramping! Can’t we practice this tomorrow?”

The sight of seeing his dear child crash face first into the ground had lost its hilarity after the first three times. Lucifer slowly lowered himself to the ground and crossed his arms as he stood over his incredibly grass-stained kid.

“MC, we’ve been ‘practicing this tomorrow’ for the past month. If you want to learn to fly you’re going to have to actually manage to stay in the air for more than three minutes.”

MC shot Lucifer a withering glare that only preteens were capable of, Lucifer matched it with his own much more sophisticated glare.

“You’ve been flying for over a thousand years! Don’t you have any tips that can actually help other than ‘don’t panic, you’ll look ridiculous’?”

Lucifer dragged a gloved hand down his face and looked around, the two were alone as far as he could see.

“MC,” Lucifer began. “When I was a young angel, I needed to learn how to fly with someone else.”

MC perked up. “Who?”

“Michael. The smug bastard picked up flying quicker than I did.”

“What’d you do?!”

Lucifer smiled at his child’s intense investment. “I practiced flying every day for five extra hours until I could do everything that Michael could do, just better.”

MC’s starry eyed interest died almost instantly upon hearing about the extra five hours of practice. “Humph, I bet I could outfly younger you and Michael with only two hours of practice a day.”

“Really now?”

“Yes! Watch!” MC shook off their wings and took off in a running start before shakily making it into the air. Their form was decent enough, and they weren’t shaking as much as the previous attempts. “SEE?!”

“Yes MC,” Lucifer smiled. “I can see.”

You know what else Lucifer could see? MC crashing right into a tree.

“Ouch...”

Okay... maybe they could halt practice a little early and order a treat from Madame Scream’s. A little sugar to refuel is needed when the end goal is crushing a mutual rival beneath their heels. Just some good old fashioned father/child bonding time!

MC has a smaller seat right next to Lucifer’s seat in the Assembly Hall. I will not compromise on this one.

For all your fluff needs, I give you: Lucifer teaching MC how to play the piano. He has a proud little smile on his face when his kid finally starts getting it. That’s all. Enjoy the image.

That one Uncle who gives you Alcohol at Family Gatherings (Mammon)

Yeah, when Mammon burst in late to the party and whining about everyone’s spamming him with texts to haul his scummy ass to the Assembly Hall, the last thing he expected was to see a mini-Lucifer.

“What the fuck am I lookin’ at?!”

The glare the two Lucifers gave the poor Avatar of Greed was enough to make him want to turn tail (uh, wing) and book it down the hall.

“Mammon, this is MC. They’re my child.”

“Hello.”

“...whaaaa..?” Mammon looked between the two, same glare, same intimidating aura, same annoyingly good posture.

Mammon scratched the back of his neck and looked over at his older brother. “Do I uh... still gotta babysit em’ if they’re not human?”

“The lake of Cocytus will melt the day I let you babysit without supervision.” Lucifer grumbled.

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

Despite Lucifer’s initial denial, Mammon and MC ended up spending a lot of time hanging out when Lucifer was busy with paperwork. Of course Mammon’s first thought was ‘how do I profit off this situation?’

MC is now Mammon’s designated babysitter after they caught him picking up their feathers that had fallen off with the intention of painting them white and claiming they were Lucifer’s from back in the Celestial Realm.

Mammon does end up spoiling MC a little. Just a smidge. They’re the kid of his totally not his favourite brother after all! How could he not? Whether or not these gifts are obtained legally or are legal at all is subject to scrutiny.

“Mammon, I can’t drink this!” MC placed the bottle of Demonus back on the counter of the kitchen.

“Why not? That’s a bottle of the good stuff! We gotta celebrate you gettin’ an A on that test somehow!”

“I’m underage! Incredibly underage. I’m not legally allowed to drink.”

Mammon wordlessly plopped a silly straw into the bottle. “...does that help?”

“No.” MC then inclined their head to the bottle. “And I don’t want to get hung from the ceiling, that bottle was in my father’s study yesterday, I’m above theft.”

“How old are you s’posed to be anyway? Never mind... uh...” Mammon wracked his brain for something else he could do for MC that didn’t cost anything (don’t judge him, the poor bastard was flat broke!). “I could... teach you to drive!”

“Driving?”

“Yeah! Drivin’ is awesome! We can take my car!”

The bills for the damages done to the car and the Devildom were mailed to Lucifer the next day, and MC and Mammon got to keep each other company as they hung from the ceiling. Ah well! At least MC wasn’t upside down!

Mammon wasn’t that good of a flight teacher either, he also crashed into a tree (the same tree MC crashed into, actually) when he was cheering for MC. They were finally able to do a loopdy loop! He was proud and distracted! Okay?! Lucifer! Stop smirkin’ at him! It’s not that funny!

At least the vantage point from the tree was decent and the branches didn’t scratch him up too badly. Oh hey... that person walking by was wearing a very nice watch... he’d be right back-

That Uncle That is Always Absent From Family Gatherings and When He is Present He Leaves Early (Levi)

He missed everything. That is not an exaggeration. He was in the middle of an online raid battle and couldn’t look at his phone! No Lucifer he can’t pause an online game! That’s not how it works!

Okay, the human exchange student is half demon? WOAH! THAT’S JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME- W A I T. THE LITTLE NORMIE IS LUCIFER’S KID?!

Okie doke, he was fully convinced that MC just had to be an anime protagonist.

They binged every series that Levi compared them to. Sure MC might have missed a few assignments because of late night anime binges, but they were too good for this school crap anyway, right?

Nope. Lucifer put a ban on the two watching anime until both their grades improved. Surviving that hell brought the two together.

“Ugh!”

The sound of a pencil case being haphazardly thrown across the room made Levi peek out of his bed-tub. If his figurines got knocked over so HELP HIM-

“This is stupid!!I shouldn’t have to catch up with this!” MC crossed their arms and gave their Demonology textbook their best disapproving glare.

Lucifer Lite (tm) was having a hell of a time trying to claw through their missed work, and Levi sympathized, he really did, it’s just... he was playing Animal Crossing-

Levi paused the game to placate his anime-buddy when their wings popped out and he feared for his rare merch’s safety.

“H-hey, MC? Do you need help?” Levi’s offer was met with a bone chilling glare that lived rent free in his nightmares ever since. He had pulled a Mammon and forgotten he was talking to Lucifer’s child. Lucifer’s allergy to help must have passed down to MC.

“No! I don’t! It’s just... dumb!” MC hissed, she turned and looked over at the fish tank. “Right Henry 2.0?”

Henry 2.0 did not respond.

“MC, you need to finish your homework or we can’t watch anything together,” Levi sighed, he had finished his work over an hour earlier. He had mastered the art of all night anime binges and managing to do most of his work in the fifteen minutes between the time he woke up and the time school was supposed to begin. “We haven’t even binged all of volume 4 of TSL yet!”

“Mmm...” MC grumbled. “Fine...”

MC picked up their pencil case and began continued their work. Levi breathed a sigh of relief and went back to Animal Crossing.

The tiny normie did in fact finish their work, only after they caved and asked Levi for help. Swore him to secrecy, they did... very intimidating, they were.

Just saying, he most definitely sent that one Keanu Reeves meme with big Keanu and little Keanu but with Lucifer and MC to the wrong group chat. Poor bastard.

Flying lessons? No. Levi hadn’t flown since his time in the Celestial Realm, he had no advice to give other than: “Flap your wings!”

“THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING YOU-”

MC didn’t get to finish that thought, they lost their balance and fell right into RAD’s fountain. Ah well, Levi had a head start on running for his life that he squandered by laughing at MC. RIP.

The Uncle/brother/whatever the fuck that Starts a Fight With Your Dad at the Family Reunion. (Satan)

Oh... another Lucifer? Eugh. Gross.

Satan gave the kid a wide berth when they first met. Everything the kid said or did ticked him off. “Tsk. Look at MC. Making an omelette. So annoying.” “Oh wow, MC vacuumed? Roll out the red carpet, we need to celebrate their existence!” “Look at them. Breathing. Disgusting.”

MC’s pride wouldn’t ever let them admit it but... they knew Satan didn’t like them, and it hurt their feelings.

“Shhhh,” Satan whispered into his backpack.

“Meow.” The backpack replied.

“I said shhhhh.”

The backpack did not reply after that, which was a good thing considering the little princet of the HOL was nearby.

“Satan?” They asked. “Who are you talking to?”

Satan coldly brushed past them as he made his way to his room. “No one you need to concern yourself with.”

When the little calico kitten was safe in his room, Satan quickly realized a mistake in his foolproof ‘sneak a cat into the house’ plan. He didn’t have any toys for the kitten, and he didn’t want his books getting scratched...

It was alright, he’d just rush out to the a store that sold cat things and rush back! Five minute trip tops!

Well when Satan got back the cat was no longer in the room. Oh dear. He discreetly tore apart the house looking for the poor little thing until he ended up finding it in the library, happily chasing around a loose feather being held up by MC.

“Oh, hello Satan.” MC chirped as the kitten batted it’s adorable little paws at the feather.

“My... my door was closed. Did you let the cat out?”

MC shrugged. “I heard meowing.”

Satan ran a hand through his hair and grumbled. Stupid smaller Lucifer. Stupid original Lucifer. Everyone sucked.

“Let me guess, you’re going to run to Lucifer and tell him all about the meowing and the rule breaking.”

MC shook their head and glared at Satan. “Of course not. I’ve already gotten way too attached to this little guy anyway. We’re co-parenting this kitten like mature adults.”

With some coaxing, Satan did sit down and play with the kitten, maybe MC wasn’t... so terrible.

The two watch Unsolved Mysteries together, that’s their show. “This guy did it.” “Satan, we’re two minutes into the episode-” “Trust me.”

Thirty minutes later.

“He did it.” “See MC, what’d I tell you?”

Lucifer did find out about the cat, but with enough pleading, MC and Satan managed to warm up the cold spot in Lucifer’s chest where his heart should have been. The cat’s name is Detective Toe Beans (or just Bean).

Satan can’t fly, he has a tail, but he did read up on wing anatomy and how flight actually works in demons, his advice would be good in theory, but it’s full of so much technical jargon that MC can’t understand it.

At least MC didn’t crash into something, they barrel rolled through one of the HOL’s windows. Good thing it was the window to their room. The broken arm still hurt like hell.

The Best Dressed Bitch Who Brings The Booze to The Reunion. (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Lucifer’s kid was SO CUTE! A thousand pictures commemorating that adorable moment needed to be taken! Wait- Lucifer- GIVE BACK THE PHONE-

Asmo, surprise surprise, absolutely adores little MC! So cute! So small! He was just so excited to announce to all his Devilgram followers that Lucifer was finally a certified DILF.

That post disappeared five minutes after it was made but the damage had already been done.

Asmo made sure MC looked their best at all times, if they needed help talking to anyone? Asmo’s got their back!

Sure, maybe he’s a little pushy, but pushy’s a good thing sometimes, right?

“Asmodeus-”

“No, these shoes wouldn’t fit you...”

“Asmo-”

“No, not these ones either...”

“ASMODEUS.”

Asmo squeaked and jumped upwards, Geez Louise... little MC’s voice could sure be scary when they wanted it to be...

“I don’t need any fancy new shoes.” MC huffed, sitting up straighter in one of the chairs in Asmo’s room. “I thought this was supposed to be a sleepover.”

“Hmmm...” Asmo pouted. “Makeovers are an essential part of sleepovers... what’d you do with your human friends up in the human world that could possibly be better than a make-over?!”

MC began to list things off. “Ordered junk food, talked about people we hated, watched movies,”

“Greasy food is so bad for your skin...” Asmo cringed and shook his head violently. “But I’m totally down to watch a movie and bitch about people I hate!”

“Ah yes, human sleepovers, a tradition I never quite had the chance to enjoy.” Solomon said from Asmo’s bed. “Who are we bitching about?”

“Remind me what Solomon is doing here.” MC muttered as they sat down in front of Asmo’s TV.

“Because, I wanted to hang out with my two favourite humans.” Asmo cooed, reaching over and trying to pinch MC’s cheek, which they awkwardly dodged.

“Can we watch The Exorcist?” Solomon asked, propping his head up with his hands.

“Ew, no.” Asmo made a face at him. “That scene with the vomit? Hell NO.”

“Mm.” MC mumbled. Asmo turned to look at them.

“MC? Are you doing okay? You don’t look like you’re having any fun...”

“I’m fine.” MC grumbled.

Asmo pursed his lips, as much as it made his little narcissistic heart break, he nudged MC. “Why don’t you pick the movie, sweetie. I’m sure Solomon and I will like anything you pick!”

MC noticeably brightened. “Let’s watch Scream!”

The strangled noise that came from Asmo was... concerning, but to his credit, The Avatar of Lust held his tongue about his distaste for the movie, and the three slumber-party goers had quite the lovely time.

After the movie ended, MC went back to their room, sure it was a sleepover but their bed was right down the hall.

Good for Asmo and Solomon. Horny fuckers. We stan.

Asmo just claps and tries to cheer MC on when it comes to their flying lessons. (The idea that Asmo came up with to wear his cheerleader costume from the previous Halloween was immediately shot down by Lucifer)

“You’re doing wonderful, MC- WATCH OUT FOR THE POWER LINE!”

MC didn’t hit the power line, but Asmo’s scream of terror caused them to fall butt-first into a dumpster. Their injured tailbone served as a tragic memory of the incident.

Oh well, good thing Asmo had nice smelling soap to give that could mask dumpster-stink.

The Uncle that eats everything and tells you to eat your veggies while you angrily pick at your broccoli at the kid’s table. (Beel)

Lucifer... has a kid?! Beel choked on the cheetos he had snuck into the Assembly Hall when the kid’s wings popped out.

Oh wow, that’s nice :) maybe they can eat together. Belphie would probably like them.

Wait what is the gender neutral term for Niece or Nephew?

...Nibling? Uh... let’s not say that around Beel. We don’t need him to get hungrier and begin associating MC with nibbling on things.

The Underground Tomb incident probably went a little differently, but after all that nonsense, the two are closer than two peas in a pod!

Mmm... peas...

“Beel?” MC stepped into the Avatar of Gluttony’s room.

“Hi MC.” Beel was doing push-ups in the middle of the room, on the ground right beneath his head was a massive bowl of spaghetti that he bit into every time he completed a push-up. “Can you come stand on my back? I need the extra weight.”

“On your back?” MC padded closer. “Are you sure? It’s not going to hurt?”

“No, it’ll be okay.” Beel assured them. “Belphie and I did this all the time. Except Belphie is normally asleep.”

MC tentatively stepped onto Beel’s back. It was a balancing act to say the least, they eventually gave up on standing and ended up sitting cross legged between Beel’s shoulder blades.

“You did this with Belphegor?” MC asked.

“Yeah,” Beel sighed. “He was always too tired to exercise, but he’d let me bench press him sometimes...”

MC frowned and hugged their knees to their chest. Knowing full well that Beel’s twin wasn’t in the human world like Lucifer said was absolutely ripping them apart from the inside. Guilt felt just as rotten as their pride did when they were being belittled...

“Maybe you’ll see him again sometime soon.” MC whispered. “Maybe my father’ll come to his senses and let him come back down to the Devildom.”

Beel paused his push-ups for a brief moment, then nodded and went back to his eating exercising combo. “I hope so. He’ll like you, MC. I’m sure of it.”

MC nodded. “I... hope so.”

Beel’s a pretty decent flight teacher, but his wings are just so different from MC’s that it renders any tips he had next to useless.

“MC, maybe your wings aren’t flapping fast enough.”

“Beel, I appreciate the thought, but I’m not a hummingbird. Or a fly. I don’t need to flap my wings a million times a minute to stay afloat.”

Ah well, MC tried to take some of Beel’s advice, but their lower right wing cramped up and they ended up flying in circles until Beel was able to catch them. Ah well, better than the dumpster incident the previous week.

The Uncle That Passes Out in The Basement and You’re Not Allowed to Wake Him Up Even Though All Your Toys and Video Games Are Down There. He Also Picks a Fight With Your Dad’s New S/O Before He Passes Out. (Belphie)

Sitting in the attic was quite a drag, and this supposedly weak little human was quite the annoyance to try and call out to. It took a lot longer than expected, but when he heard little footsteps coming towards his prison, Belphegor nearly jumped with joy.

Oh... it... looked like Lucifer. Smelled like Lucifer. Stood like Lucifer. Quacked like Lucifer. Or... trilled..? Whatever sound a peacock made, this brat sounded an awful lot like Lucifer.

A... half-demon. Hmph. Belphie honestly thought Lucifer had actual standards. Not anymore, he guessed.

(Man I could fill a whole-ass fic with the Belphie betrayal thing, but for now let’s skip to post attic nonsense)

Okay so maybe MC wasn’t disgusting. They made a good nap buddy. It was cute when their wings came out when they were sleeping sometimes. Well... it was cute when they didn’t hit him in the face and make him wake up with his mouth full of feathers.

What Beel said had been true, Belphie made a good substitute when weights weren’t available, but Beel didn’t want MC to feel left out, so Belphie and MC ended up sitting on his back while he did push ups. MC once got bored and started playing Go Fish with Belphie on Beel’s back while he exercised.

Yes. MC is still a member of the Formerly-Anti-Lucifer League.

“Are you sure he’s not going to be too mad at us?” MC asked for the dozenth time that day. Detective Toe Beans was wrapped around their neck like a scarf (he had gotten so big!!!) while MC nervously sat in one of the Library chairs.

“Positive.” Belphie said with a toothy grin. “Besides, he’s like putty when it comes to you. Just give him your best puppy eyes and we’re not guilty on all charges.”

Putty..? Really..? Lucifer..? How strict was he before MC got there... they wondered.

“Sh! He’s coming!” Satan stuck his nose into a random book, it was the Oxford English Dictionary... and it was upside down.

Belphie pretended to pass out and MC decided that the best course of action was to stare deeply into their cat’s eyes. Yeah... that looked casual and not weird.

“Satan, MC, Belphie.” Lucifer nodded to the three of them as he walked towards the entrance to his study.

“Lucifer.”

“Afternoon, father.”

Belphie let out a cartoonishly loud fake snore that nearly caused both MC and Satan to break cover and start laughing.

Side note, Bean had adorable widdle eyes! That cute little face was just to die for-

“You three..!”

Belphie, Satan, and MC peeked their heads into Lucifer’s study, their handiwork was perfect. Everything was covered in red post it notes. Perfectly not harmful, but SO inconvenient!

“You’re all cleaning this up or so help me-”

“GO!” Belphie and Satan each grabbed one of MC’s arms (Satan also grabbed Bean) and sprinted out of the House of Lamentation. Maybe they’d move back there in twenty years... they hoped that Solomon and The Angels would let them crash at Purgatory Hall...

Belphie had used up his physical energy supply for the next four years. He passed out the moment they stepped into sanctuary. Time for a nap...

Flight practice? Ha. Belphie’s napping. Though, he was suspiciously awake and filming whenever MC did something stupid.

“Try not to suck so bad.”

“GO TO HELL BELPHIE!”

“I’m already there. Hell is every second I’m stuck here watching you fail.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO GET IT FOR THAT!”

Well... MC mastered the dive bomb that day. Lucifer bought them a cake.

Bonus! Your Dad’s New Husband! That Has Managed to Somehow Make Everyone Hate Him Despite the Fact That He’s A Cinnamon Roll. (Diavolo)

A mini Lucifer? A mini Lucifer!

Diavolo dotes on MC like he’d dote on his own kid. MC wants a crown? They’re getting a crown! A damn nice one too! MC wants a title? Here! MC is now... idk Ruler of the area between Majolish and Hell’s Kitchen.

Poor Uncle Mammon’s got some financial insecurity, he’s still the cool uncle... right?!

He is very much that ‘how do you do fellow kids?’ Meme.

He tries to do stereotypical ‘dad’ things but he’s not very good at them. Once he tried to host a barbecue...

Barbatos saved the day, but Mammon’s hair was still singed, Solomon’s cooking still gave Beel food poisoning (SOLOMON EATS TOXIC WASTE I SWEAR-), Luke still got hit in the face with a frisbee, and Simeon got an unhealthy dose of DAD NERVES and got so stressed everyone was almost blinded by the holy light he suddenly started blasting. We do not mention the water guns.

(Seriously whose bright idea was it to give Belphie and Satan water guns while they were in Lucifer’s presence?)

Praise Barbie. He’s too good for them.

“Um...” MC awkwardly held up the baseball, trying to look at it from all angles like it was a completely alien object. “Lord Diavolo... are you sure you want to play catch?”

Diavolo clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Yes! It’s a thing human fathers do with their children, correct? We must make up for lost time between you and Lucifer, right?”

Lucifer massaged his temples and nodded. “If you two would like to play catch...” Lucifer grimaced. “I will too.”

“Okay! MC, throw the ball to Lucifer!” Diavolo instructed.

Lucifer half heartedly held up his baseball glove as MC tossed him the ball. He caught it, and looked over at Diavolo, who was applauding like he just witnessed the greatest feat in sports history.

“Okay! Throw it to me!” Diavolo waved his glove in the air, Lucifer rolled his eyes and smiled. He threw the ball at Diavolo with... a lot of force. Enough force to probably dent steel... Diavolo caught it like it was nothing.

MC suddenly feared for their safety.

“Okay MC, catch!”

Diavolo threw the ball with enough force to break the god damn sound barrier. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the ball sailed way over MC’s head and crashed right through a window.

“Oh my...” Diavolo put a hand on his hip and surveyed the damage to the window. “This isn’t so bad, I believe in human world TV shows this happens quite often. Look! The glass broke in a perfect circle!”

“Yay... property damage...” MC murmured.

Lucifer sighed and pulled out his DDD. “I’ll phone someone to replace the win-”

“Lucifer no! Now according to human world customs we must,” Diavolo took a deep breath, rushed forward, grabbed both Lucifer and MC’s hands and started sprinting away from the Demon Lord’s Castle. “RUN FOR IT!”

“Di- Diavolo!” Lucifer gasped.

“Who are we running from?! That’s your castle!” MC squeaked.

“I don’t know! Just run! That’s what the human TV show says to do!”

Weirdly enough, Diavolo was the best flight instructor. MC’s ability to fly increased tenfold after Diavolo found out that MC was learning to fly.

“You’re doing amazing MC! That was a perfect turn!”

“Thanks Lord Diavolo, I’m surprised I haven’t crashed into anyone or fallen yet!”

“Well, I highly doubt you’ll be crashing into anyone anymore, your flying is practically perfect now!”

Mammon proceeded to fly past them holding what looked like Lucifer’s wallet.

“M-mammon?!”

“Oh... I wonder what he’s doing. Look, MC! It’s Lucifer! Hello Lucifer dea-”

Lucifer ended up colliding with the two of them and sending them all crashing to the floor.

That was the last time MC fell during flying practice.

(We currently have a Go Fund Me set up for Mammon to get the funds necessary to flee the Devildom after that incident. Please donate to save- oh shit hi Lucifer-)

937 notes · View notes

moxfirefly · 3 years

Note

How about #25: can you help me with the zipper? And #35 spanking with our favorite purple genius?? Spice things up lol

👁👄👁 I am-

Y’all heathens, I’m more than happy to.

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Stepping into the Lair you took in the serene and quiet atmosphere. It was late, very late to be honest but work parties can get pretty crazy after all. Regardless it had been fun, tiresome but fun.

Originally you were going to go home and crawl under the duvet for about ten years if possible.

But you missed Donatello.

You couldn’t drag him anywhere and while sometimes you wish you could it wasn’t best to dwell on it. Heels in hand you patted through the living room area and into his lab where you could hear him speaking. Judging by the time you figured he was doing his part time job. He had picked up the thing out of pure boredom and to actually have some income for future supplies. It was child’s play for him, with nothing too above his skill set. Usually you sat and listened to the colorful array of clients and had a good laugh while doing so.

Most times you liked just hearing him giving the step by steps of things, or how he remotely accessed the person’s computer to fix the issue himself. His distaste over viruses and worms while he angrily typed away. So what? You were hella in love, the mutant terrapin had slithered his way into your heart.

But you kinda wanted him to slide in your pants, or well dress.

You entered his room with sly smile, Donnie was bouncing a little ball while he spoke in his best ‘customer service voice’ as you liked to joke about. He gave you a tired smile, bouncing the ball towards you which you caught. “Well sir, if you in the near future receive an email stating some prince from Asia is trying to protect his rubies it’s adviced that you don’t give out your social security number” He briefly muted the microphone. “Hey beautiful” He greeted you as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“That ruby scam is honestly my favorite of this week” Came your muffled words, Donnie chuckled and rubbed your back. “He’s called me every name under the sun, brb” He clicked a button on his headset and kept up his polite tone. Reluctantly you let go of him and placed the little bouncy ball on his desk. “Can you help me with the zipper?” You whispered at him to which he happily obliged.

Giving a set of easy to follow steps to the nasty customer, Donnie gripped the delicate zipper and gently pulled it down. His gaze followed each patch of soft skin being reveleaed to him, which he couldn’t help himself but touch. You felt the palm of his hand on the middle of your back, the sweet gentle caress made you roll your neck until it popped a few times. As he continued his argument with the customer he let both hands wander, kneading the flesh presented to him, much to your delight.

“I’m more than happy to remove those viruses but the rest has to be solved with your bank, in the mean time I’ll email you a forum to fill out about the incident while I work on this” Donnie’s voice could be described as a verbal version of an eye roll, so much sass he possessed. Again he muted the microphone and sighed. “Men truly are stupid,” He gripped the straps of your dress and pushed them aside and down your body they slid. “I’m glad that even as a large mutant man you can accept that” The two of you chuckled.

You felt his lips on your exposed back and caught the small inhale he took of your scent. “Where’s your bra?” He peaked over your shoulder and made a soft surprise sound. “The lines ruin the dress so I put these nifty little cups on” You grabbed his mug of coffee and took a generous sip.

Then you felt him tap your rear.

“You gotta learn to share your coffee, babe” You smirked at his disapproving noise, he could be quite greedy with his caffeinated beverages. “I share, but I’ve seen you chug my coffee before” He sat back down on his swivel chair and shamelessly ogled you.

Donnie’s hand landed on your rear, palm caressing the left cleft of your cheek. “Shifts would be a lot more exciting if this is what I had to look at all night” He gripped the flesh, enjoying the silky material of your underwear. Looking over your shoulder you raised an eyebrow at him, not minding in the very least his ministrations.

Not even when he let go only to smack your bottom with a little more force, enough to make you grip the table for support. “Jerk, you get handsy when you’re running on three hours of sleep” You placed your palms on the table, leaning a somewhat forward and giving him a better view of your bottom. “Five actually, managed a nap” He pulled your underwear down to your surprise and leaned in to give the reddened flesh a soft kiss.

Then he gave a series of much harder taps, nothing to brash for it to be loud but enough to make you bite your lip. “You haven’t clocked out, you know?” You wiggled your rear to tease him, enjoying the happy content sigh that escaped him. “I’m supposedly fixing the mess this guy has on his computer,” He gave your rear two more hits before gripping the burning flesh. “But this is way more exciting” The outline of his hand on your bottom made him smile, job well done in his mind.

He pulled you back onto his lap, back to his plastron and used his own legs to keep yours spread. That delightfully merciless hand of his gripped your core, the warmth making him hungrier with anticipation. “Don,” You sighed his name enjoying the lazy outline he mapped out around your core.

Then he switched the mic back on, your eyes widened. He greeted a new customer with the usual name of the company and his name just as he spread your lips. “I’m sorry to hear you’re having difficulties with your new system ma’am” You wiggled in his grasp trying to glare at him but could only muffle your sounds when said digit dipped inside. Your back arched as he thrusted indolently, enjoying each squirm and quiet gasp. “I’m goin to walk you through some basic steps if it’s alright with you” He spoke dangerously close to your ear, tongue sneaking out to lick the shell of your ear.

You almost moaned right next to the mic of his headset.

It was torturous.

The call was reaching the half hour mark from what you could see on his computer and by now he was fully rubbing your clit. You prayed the wet noises couldn’t be heard through the call. Each swipe made your toes curl, sweat had already broken out on your skin and you had bitten down on the inside of your cheek with enough force for it to throb with pain. You knew you wouldn’t last long, and the feeling of Donnie’s hard on against your rear was driving you crazy. You smacked his thigh signaling him you weren’t going to make it.

“Ma’am Im going to be placing you on a brief hold, thank you and my apologies” He muted the mic quickly and grinned when your body went stiff. “OhFUCK!” You gave a loud and lengthy shakey moan as Donnie continued to rub you through your orgasm. He pressed his lips against your cheek, tapping your sensitive nub, clearly entertained with each tremble you gave. “I think you’re the happiest customer I’ve ever had while working” You chuckled breathless, smacking his leg again.

“God you’re such a jerk! They could’ve heard me” Your cheeks flushed embarrassed. “Half the fun if you ask me” He whispered it across your skin as you felt him shove his sweats away then lift you by your thighs. Your eyes nearly bugged out, he couldn’t possibly...?

He entered you, the position making it a tight fit and causing the two of you to moan.

“Can’t make a peep, darling” He thrusted lazily upwards. “Don- theresOH- don’t switch back to the ca-“ You covered your mouth when he unmuted the call.

“Sorry for the delay ma’am, as I was explaining” He cleared his throat, feeling the effects but recuperating quickly. His hips moved lazily, hands gripping the backs of your knees firmly. You caught a glimpse of his blissed out face through the monitor, god you bit down on your bottom lip and moved with him.

You were in for a long shift.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt donatello x female reader #donnie tmnt #donatello tmnt #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #donatello x reader #donnie x reader #Donatello #Donnie #smut prompt #ask #scholastic dragon #ns*w

769 notes · View notes

homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: epilogue (reader)

Summary: An early morning, a doctor’s appointment, a new beginning.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: pregnancy (including like… probably incorrect math and science but my degree was in English and this is fanfiction okay)

Word count: 2.7k

a/n: I’m actually so emotional don’t look at me thanks ♥️

Series Masterlist

———

The sound of Spencer’s ringtone pierced through the early morning quiet, shrill and disconsolate. Y/N hummed against his chest, shifting as he clumsily reached across to the bedside table to answer it.

“Hey,” he croaked, voice still smothered in sleep. “Mm... When?” He paused, and she could almost make out the answer on the other end. “Got it. Yeah.”

He carefully set the phone back on the bedside table, and then his arms came around her shoulders. He let out a long sigh, the one she’d gotten quite used to over the last year and a half— the one that meant he had to go. She squeezed him around the middle and let out her own sigh. “Case?”

“Yeah.” He ran light fingers down her arm. “Jet’s taking off in ninety minutes.”

She glanced at the bedside table to the alarm clock that read 4:57am. They both knew he needed to leave within the next half hour if he was going to make it on time, but neither one made any effort to move. Instead, they breathed together in the pre-dawn stillness— a single moment of peace before the world and all its ugliness could crash through the fortress they’d constructed around their space and around each other.

“I don’t wanna go,” he whispered.

“I know.” She pressed a kiss over his heart through his t-shirt. “I know.”

“I’m gonna miss everything,” he lamented. “Appointments, and milestones, and firsts, and I— I’m gonna miss all of it.”

She lifted her head at the tears in his voice. “Hey.” She shifted in the circle of his arms to prop herself up on his chest. “You’re not gonna miss all of it. You’ll miss this one appointment. And it’s— it’s not even an important one,” she assured, gentle fingers swiping away the lone tear that had managed to escape over his lash line.

“Yes, it is.” He shook his head. “They're all important.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile, leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips before sitting up and deciding to reassure him in the only way she knew how. “Okay, doctor. Eleven weeks. Tell me what we’re gonna find out today.”

She pulled him up out of bed, interlacing their fingers and pressing their shoulders together. As she led him to the bathroom, he explained, “Dr. Layton will do the first ultrasound, and Baby will look more like a baby now. At around ten weeks they made the transition from embryo to fetus. They’ll be about two inches long.”

She handed him his toothbrush and turned to grab his toiletry go-back from the linen closet, stifling a yawn. “Mmhm. What else?”

“Did you know they’re breathing now?” he asked, and she smiled at the way the excitement crept into his voice. “Between weeks ten and eleven, the fetus starts to inhale and exhale small amounts of amniotic fluid, which aids in the development of their lungs. It’s kind of like they’re breathing underwater.”

“I didn’t know that,” she admitted, turning back to set the bag on the counter. “That’s pretty amazing. What about the heartbeat?”

He nodded vigorously as he applied toothpaste to the bristles of his brush. “We should be able to hear it, although sometimes it’s too early— depending on the accuracy of the estimated date of conception.”

He ran the water over the toothbrush before popping it into his mouth. She kissed his shoulder and then moved back into the bedroom, shuffling into their closet for his go bag. She checked it over on her way back to the bathroom, ensuring it had been fully repacked after the last case. She set it on the counter and placed his toiletry bag inside, leaving it open for him to pack his toothbrush and then sitting on the closed toilet lid.

He rinsed his mouth and put his travel cap over the head of his toothbrush, gesturing with it and then dropping it into the bag. “They’ll do some routine lab work to test for things like gestational diabetes, and we can also choose to do additional screeners for chromosomal abnormalities and possible complications.” He looked at her then, and she saw the despondence creeping back in. “I should really be there, just— just in case.”

“Honey.” She stood and held out her hand to him, smiling a little when he accepted it with a squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He let out a breath and pulled her into his arms, and they held each other in the silence, the soft light from the vanity washing over them. His phone buzzed with an incoming message, and she knew he needed to get on the road. Still, she held him for a second longer, and then they shuffled through the door and into the bedroom together.

Y/N made her way back to bed, scooting down under the duvet to preserve the last remaining notes of his body warmth. She watched as he dressed silently, pulling on trousers, socks, a button up and cardigan. He skipped the tie in favor of coming to sit on the bed, bringing his hand to rest lightly over top of her belly over the covers.

She covered his hand with her own and laced their fingers together. “Maybe you could ask Luke if you can FaceTime with his phone. You can probably take twenty minutes, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He rubbed a tired hand over his face. “Maybe I should just upgrade my own phone.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I see how it is. Couldn’t upgrade for me, but once a baby comes along you’re ready for an iPhone.”

“That’s not— you— you shouldn’t have to do all of this alone,” he huffed, and she realized her joke didn’t land when his voice cracked at the end.

“Spence, I’m— I’m just teasing.” She lifted her hands to his face, pulling him closer and meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry; you’re upset, and that wasn’t nice.”

She leaned up to kiss his forehead, letting her lips linger and breathing him in. “But I’m not alone. With you, I feel— the opposite of alone.”

“Irritated?” he offered.

“No,” she laughed. “Supported, and cared for, and loved,” she corrected with a smile. “You’ve been all of that since day one. And I know that’s not going to change, whether you’re physically present in that doctor's office or not. Right?”

When he nodded, she continued, “I love you. The most. And you are easily the best baby daddy on planet earth. Okay?”

The term of endearment dragged a smile from him, as it always did. “Okay.”

She leaned forward to press her lips to his, both sets upturned and a little dry from sleep. “Now, you need to go, or you’re gonna be late.”

“I know.” He kissed her again, long and slow, and then pulled back to lean their foreheads together. He hesitated for another ten seconds before standing to grab his bag from the bathroom.

When he re-emerged, she reminded him, “Ask Luke about the FaceTime thing. I’m sure he won’t mind, and we can trust him to keep the secret. The appointment technically starts at 1:00, but I probably won’t be seen until at least 1:30.”

He crossed to give her another kiss. “I love you.” He crouched to press a kiss to her tummy. “And you.”

“We love you, too,” she smiled, fingers tangling in his curls. “And we’ll talk to you in a few hours.”

She kissed him one more time— couldn’t help herself. And then his warmth was gone from the bed, and the house was suddenly much too quiet. She snuggled back down under the duvet, her head on his pillow and the scent of his shampoo shrouding her senses and easing her mind.

Spencer really was supportive— endlessly so. Not overbearing, but interested and involved in every moment: reading all the newest research, bringing home her favorite treats, writing out a color-coded timeline of all the appointments and milestones. She wasn’t lying when she called him the best baby daddy. He was always there for her. So much so that the apprehension she’d had at the beginning of this surprise journey was nowhere to be found.

As she drifted back into sleep, there he was again— she could almost hear the jangling of his keys in the bowl in the entryway, his feet on the stairs, the rustling of his pants and sweater being discarded onto the floor of their bedroom.

And then she felt the warmth of his palm low over her tummy, coming to rest over the barely-there bump. She felt his lips on her shoulder and his chest pressed against her back. When she went to cover his hand with her own, her exhausted brain registered that it wasn’t a dream at all.

She turned her head, blinking her eyes open to see him smiling at her and drew her brows together. “What’s going on?”

He pressed another kiss to her shoulder, snuggling even closer and rubbing his thumb along her belly. “I’m, um— I told Emily I’m gonna consult from home on this one.”

…

“Okay, Mom, this’ll just be a little bit cold.”

Dr. Layton smoothed the gel over Y/N’s lower abdomen, and Spencer moved to thread their fingers together, shifting to stand even closer to the examination table. The ultrasound machine gave off a low hum as the doctor adjusted the wand over her tummy. She felt Spencer press a kiss to her temple and turned to smile brightly at him before turning back to the black and white screen.

At her first appointment five weeks ago, she’d been by herself— alone and uncertain and terrified— and she’d declined the option of the ultrasound. It felt wrong to see the baby before Spencer even knew about them. Now, together with him, with her soon-to-be husband— she was more than ready to see their baby for the first time. And she could practically feel Spencer’s excitement next to her, his body nearly vibrating with it.

“Ah, here they are. Hello, Baby Reid.” Dr. Layton pointed to a small, white figure on the screen. “Okay, right here, you can see their big ol’ head— perfectly normal size for this stage of development,” she assured, eyes deftly scanning the image in front of her. “Everything looks great! Now, I’m just trying to find…”

She adjusted the wand over Y/N’s tummy, and suddenly a wub wub wub came over the tinny speaker of the machine. “There we are,” Dr. Layton smiled. “Very strong heartbeat.”

Spencer squeezed Y/N’s hand, and she felt the drop of a tear on her shoulder. She brought her other hand over to cover their tangled fingers, rubbing her thumb along the skin of his wrist and kissing his arm.

Dr. Layton made a slightly perplexed humming sound, moving the wand again and losing the sound of the heartbeat, only to pick it up again— this time slightly faster. Y/N’s own heart stuttered a little as the doctor moved the wand again twice more, and then cleared her throat. “Is something— is everything okay?”

She turned to Y/N with a kind smile. “Yes, yes,” she confirmed, and then she raised her eyebrows. “Just— do you hear the difference?”

Spencer tilted his head in consideration, drawing his brows together and straining to hear. The doctor shifted the wand once more, allowing them to hear the two distinct patterns.

Two distinct patterns, Y/N realized.

Dr. Layton pressed the wand a little more firmly into her abdomen, moved it just slightly. “Those are two different heartbeats.” She pointed to the screen. “And those are two different babies. There’s a matching set of Baby Reids in there.”

Y/N couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping. “Is there—” She turned to Spencer incredulously. “Do twins run in your family?”

He shook his head silently, eyes wide. “Yours?”

“Nope,” she squeaked.

“This obviously changes things slightly,” Dr. Layton explained, cleaning up the residual gel. “I’d like to see you every three weeks rather than every four. Then at twenty eight weeks, we’ll see how we feel, okay?”

She smiled gently as Y/N and Spencer nodded dumbly. She removed her gloves and stood. “I’m going to give you two a few minutes. I’ll be back with your photos in a bit, and we can talk about any questions you might have.”

The door closed behind her, and the room was bathed in silence. Y/N sat up carefully and swung her legs over the side of the examination table. She looked down at her tiny, unassuming bump and felt a tear slip over her lashes.

“Are you— are you okay?” Spencer whispered.

She brought her gaze to his, found them teeming with barely restrained joy and yet the ever-present worry. “Well,” she started. “I, um— I always imagined two kids.” She brought her hands up to her sweaty cheeks and held her own face between her palms. “I guess this is— you know— just a quicker way to get there.”

Spencer immediately wrapped her in a hug, pressing kisses over her hair, her forehead, her shocked mouth. “Two babies. We’re having two babies.”

“Twins, Spence,” she breathed. “Twins.”

He replaced her hands with his own, cradling her face and kissing her sweetly, sighing all of his joy and adoration into her mouth. “I love you. So much. The most.” He lowered himself to press his lips to her belly. “All of you.”

She used gentle hands in his hair to tilt his face up, meeting his smile with a watery one of her own. “We love you, too, baby daddy.”

She could see the gears turning as he stood, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “About that.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Do you, um— how difficult do you think it would be to get everyone together this weekend?”

She paused. “You wanna get married this weekend?”

“Yeah, that’s probably too soon, huh?” He huffed out a sigh, then his eyebrows shot up. “Oh, what about next weekend?”

“That’s just as soon!” she laughed.

He furrowed his brow. “No, it’s not. There's a seven day difference.”

“You’re really in a rush, huh?” she teased.

“Well. I just— I figure you should really be on my insurance anyway,” he reasoned. “Especially now that it’s— now that it’s twins.”

“Mm, yes, I’m sure that’s the reason,” she grinned.

He let out a long breath, and she watched his eyes journey over her face— memorizing every curve and angle, every new wrinkle, every last inch of her. And she knew the reason.

“I know it’s just a piece of paper,” he murmured. “It doesn’t really change anything, but…” He used gentle fingers to brush her hair back from her face. “I just… really want to be your husband.”

She took her own minute to memorize the way he looked in this moment: her fiancé, the father of her children, the best man she’d ever known, the absolute love of her life. And she knew her own reason.

“The paper might not change anything,” she agreed. “But— you’ve changed everything.”

He squeezed her hips. “In a good way I hope.”

“The best way.” She brought her hands to his face, rubbing her thumbs along his cheeks. “The best way.”

He closed the distance between them to kiss her with all the honey and magic and reverence he always did. He broke away to lean his forehead against hers with all the warmth and devotion and love he always did. She sighed, and it was all joy and vulnerability and contentment like it always was. And she knew their reasons.

She kissed him again, and then murmured against his lips, “You know I’m still gonna refer to you as baby daddy, right?”

The laugh erupted from his chest and wrapped itself around her heart, tying tight and secure— a shield, and a haven, and a refuge— keeping her safe from every terrible thing.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

…

O no! Love is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

- William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

———

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293 notes · View notes

sarcastich · 3 years

Text

Crown Made Of Barbwire

Everyone got their wings, sooner or later.

Feathers of every color, size, variation.

They start as two little bumps on your back, itching like a growing tooth, around the same time you hit puberty. A bit earlier for girls, a bit later for boys. They grow over the course of your teenage years, and stop once all their feathers have reached their full size.

Some people could fly with their wings, some couldn’t. Most people’s wings were two meters on each side when they were outstretched.

Peter’s wings had only taken two years to grow fully, and were beautiful, pure-white angel wings.

He’d never seen anyone with wings like his. All the other white wings were more like snow owls, speckled with browns and grays, or had underlying colors that gave the top feathers a tint.

He couldn’t quite fly with them, but they were perfect for gliding. He’d scale the tallest buildings in his area, and get a running jump off of them, plummeting for a moment before he got pulled up and flew around the neighborhood until his wings got tired. Of course, you couldn’t just fly anywhere whenever you wanted to. You needed permits, licenses, there were laws to uphold. Most people preferred staying on the ground, anyway.

But not everyone got to keep their feathered wings.

Peter had always heard stories of the burnt ones.

His aunt used it as a reason for him to be good, or when his friends were yelling about seeing criminals they’d allegedly seen out ‘n about.

“-Eat your greens or your wings will burn right off, Pete”

“-I’m telling you, man! His wings were all black and torn up, I’m not kidding!”

They were the result of corruption, evil, immorality, and sin. Once soft feathers scorched, charred, and turned into soot. They blackened and burned away, turning into a shadow of their past wonder, skeletal and black.

Peter had never imagined that one day he’d be standing at the Four Seasons, shooting photos for The Bugle, trying to get a good shot of the Tony Stark.

Peter was among the crowd of journalists and other photographers, rapidly clicking away, aiming his camera lens at Stark. Reporters were yelling out questions, waving wired microphones and recorders over the barrier between them and the walkway Tony Stark was walking down.

There was something about his wings that set them apart from a normal burnt set. Most CEOs, businessmen or just rich, successful, famous people had burnt wings.

But Tony Stark’s weren’t just burnt.

They had horns cascading from the tips to the forearms. The burning away of the pure white feathers had revealed bat-like structures. Stark had no idea why, or how. That was just how they were. Or so he’d told the public.

Peter’s breath caught in his throat when Stark focused on him, looking into his camera and flashing a well-practiced smile. Peter fumbled for a moment before he looked through the viewfinder and took several photos.

And again, he’d never imagined that he’d get a personal request for a photoshoot, by the Tony Stark.

He packed his camera bag with shaky hands, taking extra drives and lenses.

His boss had pulled him aside earlier that morning, and told him that Stark had reached out and asked for Mr. Parker to be the one present and in charge of the interview’s photos. Peter, of course, had accepted in a second. He’d be an idiot to decline. Tony Stark’s picture on his portfolio? What kind of artist would he be if he said no?

Peter stepped out of the glass lobby of The Bugle offices half an hour later and looked up from his phone, his camera bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a deep red sweater over a white collared shirt, the front tucked into his soft beige dress pants. He hoped his outfit wasn’t too casual for the occasion, but he didn’t really have time to change anyway.

Just as he looked away from the screen, a sleek black car pulled up in front of him. The driver’s window rolled down.

“Peter Parker?” the driver, a roundish man, asked.

“Y-yeah- yes!”

The man jerked his head towards the back seat door.

“Get in, kid.”

Peter did as told, nervously sliding into the car, barely moving when he sat on the leather seat, hugging his bag.

“Wh- Where’re we going-?” His voice came out a lot squeakier than he’d meant for it to.

“Stark Industries Tower, where else?”

Almost an hour later, the car stopped in front of the blue, glass building. The driver got out and opened Peter’s door. He hadn’t moved since he’d gotten in.

Getting out of the car and almost forgetting his bag, he mumbled, most of his attention drawn by the tall tower.

“Thank you- uh, mister- um-”

“Hogan. Happy Hogan.”

“Yes! Thanks!”

With a nod, he closed the car door and got back in, driving off. Peter took a deep breath, held his bag properly again and started towards the building.

After a short chat with one of the three receptionists, he was led to an elevator a bit farther away from the general area of the entry. He and a shorter woman entered the lift. Judging from her formal attire, Peter guessed she was an assistant. Her wings were far smaller than his own, made up of light blue feathers with streaks of royal blue. He kept his own wings contracted to offer her enough room in the small space.

“Friday, take us to the penthouse, and please let Mr. Stark know that Mr. Parker will be arriving shortly.”

Peter looked at her, confused until a soft tone went off and the elevator started its ascent.

She smiled at him before he let out a soft “Oh-” and averted his gaze.

With another soft tone, the lift stopped and she gestured for him to step out.

“Thanks-”, he started to say, but the elevator door was already closing behind him.

The elevator had opened to something like a living room area. Two sleek, white sofas were facing the rounded glass walls, with an ornate sculpture between them that looked like five giant bowls stacked on top of each other. Everything Peter could see was modern and minimal, with a white-gray aesthetic throughout the penthouse.

He looked around nervously, holding on to his bag by the shorter strap.

“Mr. Parker, welcome.”

Peter gasped and turned around with a jump, startled.

“M-Mr. Stark! Y-yes, hi, I’m Peter Parker, I-I’m here for the Bugle interview shoot?” He inwardly cringed at how he sounded, stuttering, his voice a lot higher than it usually was, clutching his bag for dear life.

Stark smirked at him. “I know, kid, calm down.” He gestured towards the sofas. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Peter stuttered out a thank you, and sat down at the far end of one. He kept his wings close to his body, feeling like he was taking up too much space, still hugging his bag to his chest. He looked up shyly, taking Stark in properly. His wings were relaxed as he walked to the sofa facing Peter, sitting down comfortably.

“Are you afraid of me, Mr. Parker?”

“N-No sir. I mean, you’ve obviously done s-some- uh-.. Not so great things- but uhm- You’re an icon, people admire you-”

“Would you like anything to drink?” Stark cut him off, motioning to the minibar that had very literally risen from the ground.

Peter stuttered out, “Oh- N-No, thank you, I can’t drink on the job-”

Stark poured himself two fingers of whiskey in a lowball glass, without ice, and gently pushed down the top of the minibar, and it reclined back into the floor, looking like another dark grey ceramic tile.

He took a sip, eyes trained on Peter.

Peter cleared his throat, relaxing a bit. “So, where d’you think would be best for the uhm- the shots-?”

They talked about light placement, the conversation somehow dragging over to technology and science, Peter engaging a lot more, and forgetting his nervousness eventually.

After about an hour, they got up, Peter set up his camera, and took his photos.

A behind-shot of Tony Stark with his hands tucked into his pants pockets, wings stretched out behind him. A side profile, while buttoning his suit, and various other shots.

Peter was on his knees, getting a photo of one of Tony Stark’s iconic shades on a small table, the city line stretching out behind it.

Stark had excused himself to take a call, and told Peter to take photos of anything that he wanted. Peter didn’t hear him step back into the room, too focused on trying to set his camera’s shutter speed. Stark quietly took long strides to him, stepping in front of the table.

“Oh, Mr. Stark-! I just wanted to take a shot of the glasses, they’re-”

He stammered into silence as Mr. Stark softly ran the back of his finger along his cheek. He held it under Peter’s chin, tilting his head up. Peter was blushing furiously, but couldn't make himself look away.

“Let me see your wings, angel.”

Three months later, Peter’s life had changed drastically.

He was decked out in the latest designer clothes, a skinny white Etro strap top to match his wings, baby blue Dolce & Gabbana shaded glasses perched on this nose, sitting by a marbled kitchen counter, a Valentino white leather clutch bag resting on it, and inspecting his manicured nails.

A man in an obsidian black suit entered the room, buttoning his jacket and running a hand through his hair, smirking.

“Ready, angel?”

Peter looked up, a cheeky smile on his lips. Wings fluttering, he slid off his high stool and made his way to him. He straightened Tony’s tie and pecked his nose.

“Yes, daddy.”

He leaned away, but Tony let out a growl, grabbing Peter by his waist and pulling him flush against his body.

Peter gasped, “You’ll ruin my outfit!”

“Angel, I bought it.”

Peter pouted, “Well yeah, but you gave it to me”

“I’ll buy you a new one, you spoilt brat.”

Peter giggled and cupped Tony’s face, looking into his eyes and leaning into his touch. “Y’know I love you, Tones.”

They kissed softly, Tony not letting go of his vice grip on Peter’s waist.

“Tony, we’re gonna be late... I want you to check the set up one last time-”

“Angel, I had you set things up. I trust you.”

Earlier that day, Peter had gone to the hotel’s restaurant on the top floor, under a different name and reservation. He’d checked the entire place for wires, mics, or anything that could put them in any sort of bad situation. He checked exit points, weak spots, and all the cameras. He’d been thorough.

He had taped a Glock 9 mm handgun underneath their side of the table, checking repeatedly to make sure it was fully loaded and had its safety off.

Peter grumbled a bit, before letting go of Tony, dramatically sighing, rolling his eyes and picking up his handbag from the counter.

“Well, we should get going anyway.”

Tony shot him a wolfish grin before grabbing his wrist and pulling him back.

“You missed something, i mio angelo.”

He tilted his head to the counter, a navy blue felt box sitting on it now. Peter was surprised. He knew it was a jewelry box, but he hadn’t asked for anything, and even though Tony loved showering him with gifts, there was usually some silly occasion he used as an excuse for it.

He curiously looked at the box, wondering what it was. Something beautiful, no doubt.

“Go on then, Angel, it’s yours.”

Peter stepped back up to the counter and set down his bag on the nearest stool. He pulled the box closer to himself before glancing at Tony, who was smirking at him, arms crossed against his chest.

He slowly opened it, keeping his eyes on Tony until the lid was completely vertical.

His eyes flicked down to the box, and he took in a sharp gasp, hands flying to cover his mouth. “Tony, you didn’t!”

Tony’s smirk grew into a full grin again as Peter rushed around the counter to kiss him, cradling the box in his arms, even though he could easily just hold it in one hand.

“Of course I did, mia carissimo.”

Tony took the box from Peter’s hands, setting it down on the counter. He pulled out the choker he’d gotten for his princess, with Round Brilliant cut, D rate diamonds in the center of Cushion cut diamonds arranged like figure eights.

Peter lightly grazed his own neck with his fingertips, already feeling the weight on his neck, even though he hadn’t touched the jewels yet. Tony held up the necklace.

“May I have the honor?”

Peter silently turned his back to Tony, holding his head high. Tony pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s bare neck and gently ran his hand through Peter’s feathers, making him shudder before placing the necklace on his neck and fastening the tiny clasp. It didn’t have a chain at the end, it had a specific size. Peter’s size.

Half an hour later, Tony held the passenger door of his Audi R8 Spyder open and led Peter out, Peter giving him his hand like a princess, to the entry of the hotel. There was no swarming press, just the coming and going of guests of the hotel.

Handing his keys over to a valet, Tony pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s hand.

“Relax, angel.”

They walked into the lobby hand in hand, people stopping to stare at them every few feet. Even if they didn’t know who Tony Stark was, they’d stop to look at the man with the bat wings and the boy who looked like an angel.

They didn’t stop at the reception, they walked straight to the private elevator that led to the restaurant, Tony’s security detail already armed and ready at the top. Once they got there and had been patted down and checked for weapons by Osborn’s security, Tony walked them over to their table.

It overlooked the city skyline, winking lights dotting the land underneath them. He pulled out a chair for Peter, getting a soft smile in return. Sitting in the chair next to him, he held his hand again. Peter shot him a worried look.

Peter kept his voice low, “I thought you said he’d be here on time?”

“Princess, he’s only five minutes late. His detail’s here, he’ll be here, too.”

Peter toyed with the table’s centerpiece while they waited. After about ten minutes, Tony abruptly got up, rebuttoning his suit.

“C’mon bambino, we’re leaving.”

Before Peter could get up, there was a short yell and a loud muffled thump from the elevator.

The glass wall beside their table shattered, rapid shots taking out most of the security team. Tony yanked Peter down by his suit collar, looking out at the building in front to try and see the snipes. The elevator doors ominously opened, a man in black armour stepping out. His wings were plated with metal.

It all happened in the span of two seconds.

He shot the remaining guards before training his gun on Tony. Before he could get a word out, Peter pulled the gun he’d hidden earlier. In an instant, he cocked it and aimed for the man’s head.

The assassin had been a split second too late in aiming at Peter.

Peter fired.

The shooter fell to the floor, dead.

Peter dropped the gun, falling to his knees, a sudden hiss sounding behind him.

His wings had burst into flames.

He yelled out, pain blooming in his wings and along his back. Tears sprung from his eyes and ran down his face, ash falling around him, smoke rising behind him as Tony rushed to his knees beside him, holding him as he cried into Tony’s shoulder, his agonized screams muffled.

In the matter of minutes, his angelic wings were gone.

#starker #starker fic #starker moodboard #wings au #hope yall like it #gonna go cry now #reposting bc im a bit of an idiot

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stardustincarnate · 3 years

Text

DANCING IN THE DARK // Light Yagami x Reader

word count : 4992 genre : fluff, crack summary : it’s your birthday, and the yagami siblings have prepared some tricks up their sleeve.

a/n : made this for my birthday last year because why shouldn’t i and honestly light is my comfort character. also i keep on saying this but the internet needs more light fluff fics :) and for anyone reading this on their birthday, may you have a wonderful day! <333

"Happy birthday [Y/N]! Thanks for inviting us!"

"Oh Sayu, behave yourself!" Sachiko scolded her daughter who was running in circles around you before hugging you. You shook your head, implying that it's alright. You were close with her anyway. "Happy birthday [Y/N]. We hope you'll like these small presents we got you."

"Thank you! But you shouldn't have.. Really." You blushed. They only clicked their tongues friskily. "Hah! Though that's nothing compared to what Light got you!"

"Oh, where are your parents dear?"

"They're in the kitchen preparing and.. stuffs. Come on in you two before it starts—" You barely even summoned the rain, but there it went, an immediate, hostile rain invaded the city just as you had expected. They quickly stepped inside and before closing the door, you checked it there was anyone—someone in particular— who'd come running to your doorstep. But there wasn't.

"Mr. Yagami's still at work?" Sachiko nodded. "He'd be here by dinner time. I told him to go straight here."

"I understand." You replied meekly and shifted your gaze to the window. "How about Light? Where is he? Is he coming?"

"Of course dear! Why even ask? That boy wouldn't miss it for the world. He should be here in some minutes. He said he was gonna pass somewhere before heading here."

Before you could reply, as if summoned at the mention of his name, came Light casually barging in the front door. You thought he looked more like a thief rather than a prince coming to see his damsel who's not really in distress.

A thief drenched in the rain, that is, holding a bouquet of roses and nicely wrapped boxes of different sizes. He sure got you a lot of presents.

"Light! What did I tell you about bringing a raincoat?" Sayu huffed.

"Haha I said I'd be quick though— and it's fine.. Hello there [Y/N]. Good evening." He ran to you, handing you the presents and bouquet before hugging you tightly, the rainwater on his clothes permeating on yours. Of course you couldn't properly hug him back since your hands were occupied. You merely gave his cheek a peck and he whispered, "Happy birthday [Y/N]," before pulling away with a grin.

"Thank you Light! Although I really appreciate your gifts, what I don't is this." You pointed to your clothes with your lips, looking at them. His grin widened. He anticipated this to happen. "You are soaking wet."

"Yeah. I'll go change clothes. Be right back!"

"It's raining cats and dogs! You're gonna get even more drenched!"

"I already am so that won't matter when I enter the house."

You watched the siblings continue to quarrel. You sighed fondly and handed Light an umbrella. "There ya go. Though you really should've brought an umbrella or raincoat first."

"I'm sorry then, Ma'am." He chuckled. "You should go and change too." And with that, he headed back to his house, three blocks away from yours. Sayu snorted. "I thought he was incapable of being a dummy. Guess that can't be helped."

"I heard that!"

You giggled and put down the presents before going upstairs to change clothes.

Surprisingly when you went down he was already there. Guess you took too long to change. He seemed to be having that kind of conversation with your father. On the other hand, your moms were talking and laughing to themselves. You had no plan of interrupting either of their conversations so you went to Sayu who was idly playing with her hair, sitting on the carpet. As expected, she was full of topics—mostly just about girly stuffs which you didn't really mind— especially her continuously fangirling to that TV actor, Hideki Ryuga. And, well, you actually were too. It wouldn't kill you to fangirl sometimes, right? It went on like that for about some minutes.

A hand being suddenly placed on your shoulder was enough to startle you. You turned around, gazing up to see Light whose brow was raised.

"Oi oi Sayu. Don't brainwash her into joining you and your addiction to that TV star."

"I'm not brainwashing her! I mean, who wouldn't fall for Hideki Ryuga? Right [Y/N]?" She squealed.

"Precisely!" You winked. Light heaved a sigh dramatically as he sat beside you. "Psh. I am more handsome than him, and [Y/N] can attest to that."

"Who says I can?"

"I— whatever. Can't believe you'd choose that actor over me." He huffed and looked at you with disdain.

"Of course I will! Any girl will dump her boyfriend for Ryuga—"

"Hmm. Are you really older now? Or just a thirteen-year-old trapped in that body?"

"Hey! What makes you say that?"

"Nevermind me. Go and join Sayu in her silly fangirling and keep your childish mode activated." He rolled his eyes and was about to stand up, but you clung to his arm and began to act like a cat by playfully rubbing your head against his cheek— which was odd to say the least. He gave you a dubious and irritated glance.

"Oh! Is my Light jelly? My my, you look like a girl on her period, which is kinda adorable."

"Cut it out! Do you mean to say, you on your period?"

You slapped his arm. "I don't act like that during my red days! I certainly don't!"

"Oh yeah because you act way worse than that."

"Augh. You're just jealous! Come onn saaay it! My babyboy is jelly~"

"Good Lord, would you mind cutting it out? If admitting it is gonna make you stop then yes, I am jealous."

He was internally dead. Seeing his reaction made you laugh maniacally (c̶o̶u̶g̶h̶s̶ ̶k̶i̶r̶a̶ ̶l̶a̶u̶g̶h̶), even getting your parents' attentions.

"Talk about being childish, hah! Babyboy got jealous over an actor~ Ah, you are so adorable that I might even squeeze you to death!"

"Shut up. You're no fun."

"Oh, but you're enjoying this, aren't you babyboy?"

"One more of that ridiculous nickname and I swear I'll kill you."

"BABYBOOOOY~~"

"Shut up, or I'll shut you up!"

"I dare you babyboy!"

He looked severely annoyed when he glared at you and leaned his face closer to yours. He looked like he was going to eat your face rather than kiss you, but then—

"EHEM!"

There went Sayu, whose presence was completely forgotten by the both of you.

"Oh. Would you mind leaving us alone? We need privacy. Kids aren't supposed to see what's next."

"No way! You're taking her all to yourself Light! That's no fair."

"Fair enough since I'm her boyfriend."

"And I'm her bestfriend?!?! You're just her boyfriend. Bestfriends come first before boyfriends!"

Sayu rebuked, clinging to your other arm and pulling you away from Light. He had no rebuttals and only clung to your other arm, keeping you away from Sayu who was also determined to get you away from him. You already knew where this was going.

'Good Lord' you mentally sighed. And yup, there they went, playing tug of war, with you as the rope.

"I came first, so get your ass away from us, Light!"

"You get your ass away from us!"

"No you!"

"HOW ABOUT YOU TWO STICK YOUR DAMN ASSES TOGETHER AND GET THEM AWAY FROM ME?? For the love of heaven, stop!"

"..Err...Sorry." The two Yagamis murmured and let go of you. You three soon heard a chuckle coming from behind. It was your mom.

"While you guys wait for the food, why don't you try out the karaoke? I'm sure you are great singers. Hmm my [Y/N] may be an exception though."

You whined at your mom's comment. You stood up and Light grabbed your arm before Sayu could, giving her a sharp glare. "She's gonna stay with me, got it?"

"Hmph. Fine then. Enjoy it while it lasts, big brother."

She pointed her fingers from her eyes to his before playfully winking at you. You grinned and shook your head as you made your way to the sofa. You had no idea that their exchanged glares had a double meaning to it.

After they finished picking song numbers and it was your turn, Light secretly handed Sayu two eggs, telling her to be careful in handling those.

Yup, he had five eggs—no not including his own and certainly NOT the number of his own—hidden inside his jacket's pockets the whole time.

You three had made it clear that you were the first one to sing even though you were all fully aware that you suck at that. They innocently looked at you when you glanced at them. You eventually entered the numbers and just as you were about to murder your first notes you heard a loud CRACK! You thought something fell somewhere in the kitchen, but then the second CRACK! came. It felt like something fell on top of your head. And you were right.

But you were already too late when you saw egg shells falling down your hair. And they weren't the only thing—

"What in the nine circles of hell is this?! Oi—" CRACK! CRACK! and CRACK!

The last one missed but by the time you were already a mixture of skin and eggs. The worst part was that one yolk was dripping on the right side of your face, and your mouth was opened due to shock at the same time so some of it got inside your mouth. You absolutely hated the smell and worse— you were sticky! You looked at the siblings who then burst out laughing. The adults were too.

"Now that's what I wanna have for breakfast." Light quipped.

"SHUDDAP! Were you guys all on this?!"

They didn't respond. You walked towards the siblings who were now slowly backing away. You scowled and raised your hands, about to touch them, but they scurried away, with Sayu using her brother as a shield.

"I am so gonna get you two! Sayu, why must you betray me?"

"It was Light's idea!"

"Hey no—" The three of you continuously ran in circles in the living room, with them (mostly just Sayu) screeching and frantically flailing every now and then the closer you got.

They were terrified of the egg monster that you were.

"Don't be mad [Y/N]. Did you know that eggs will do wonders for your hair? At least you don't need to go to the salon now."

"I know but it wasn't only my hair! I am so gonna get you, Light, you little ass!"

"Welp there you go [Y/N]! He's all yours!"

Sayu halted and tripped not only her brother but you too since you were accelerating too fast. Light fell on his chest, and you fell on his back, the gooey substance dropping to his jacket. And to make it worse, you nuzzled his hair with your yolk-covered one. He squirmed, panted, and whined ridiculously.

When he regained his strength he immediately wiggled you away from him. He stood up and removed his jacket, but the smell still lingered since his hair and nape were also covered with yolks and egg whites.

"This wasn't part of the plan.. Sayu..."

"Hehehe."

You dramatically threw your hands up and wheezed to get their attention.

"This is very unfair. I just changed clothes and now I definitely need to take a shower to get rid of this yucky smell."

"I may have to as well."

"Are you implying that we'll shower together?"

"Of course not! Unless you want to— but on second thought, no way! I'll go back home and return—"

"Nope, you're not going anywhere. I had it worse than you! You can easily wipe it away."

"But the smell—"

"You'll have to live with that until the party's over, mister."

You glared at him and walked upstairs to straight-up take a shower that took about thirty minutes. Even though you used as many shampoos as you could, there was still a slight smell left. You honestly weren't anticipating that.

As you languidly made your way downstairs you heard the clicking of metals, indicating that they had already started eating without you, the fucking birthday girl. Mr. Yagami had also arrived. Guess you really took too long and missed some tea— if there ever was.

Light glanced at you and gave a smile of mischief. You raised your middle finger but quickly hid it when your mom glanced your way.

No other choice but to sit beside your stinking boyfriend since it was the only vacant seat left. And you couldn't help but laugh when you saw the egg remains there.

"Let's properly start dinner then." Your dad announced. "Huh? I thought you guys had already started."

"We did. But it wasn't official. Of course we won't officially start without the birthday princess~"

"What difference does it make? And really, dad?"

After the prayer you eventually started eating. Just looking at the food already made you feel full and you were sure that you'd soon look like a pregnant woman after eating all those. Of course, there also had to be some entertainment otherwise it wouldn't be a normal dinner for you.

"Few visitors, huh?" Light elbowed you. "Obviously."

"Why didn't you invite the other neighbors?"

"Do I look like I'm close with those vivacious people?"

"Of course not." His grin somehow irritated you. He's doing this on purpose.

You puffed your cheeks. It was true though— you only had limited visitors this year, specifically the Yagami household. Let's just say that they're the only benevolent family in the neighborhood. You weren't really acquainted or interested in befriending your other neighbors and their kids since first of all, they're literally kids. And even though some of them were at the same age as you and Light, you couldn't really vibe with them. You had lots of friends though, but their houses were too far from yours. You could've had invited them too but it was raining cats and dogs. They might get stranded and you weren't really a fan of sleepovers. They did greet you via text earlier. Although, it was still rather saddening.

Both your parents shifted the topic to your university lives, the rankings and all that stuffs, including reminiscing old times, but they weren't comparing. It was all good to them.

"As expected! Your son is number one as always." Your mom smiled to Sachiko. Your dad then butted in, "Oho, I heard [Y/N] once swearing to beat him. Would you let that happen Light?"

"No way." He chuckled. You shook your head. "Watch me do it."

"I've been doing that for years."

"Tch. I was always first but then you stole the spotlight. Be thankful I don't hold a grudge on you." You jested. Him and your parents chuckled in unison.

"The spotlight isn't the only thing I stole from you though."

"Wow, you are capable of being cheesy too?" You coughed to apparently hide your smile and avoided your parents' sly looks. "Yes yes, you stole my heart too Mr. Know-It-All. You were supposed to be my rival but you cursed me."

"Did not. My charms were only being effective."

"Tsk."

"Wow, you two might be the smartest couple I've ever seen! But you know my teacher once told me if two smart people were to collide then it'd be chaotic." Sayu butted in.

"Why is that?"

"Because they'd keep on contradicting each other with their own beliefs and when they get into arguments it'd be super long but very logical. She also said it's not good because there's no contrast between them. They're already perfect and too much perfection isn't good."

They may be some truth to what she said. You and Light exchanged glances, mentally communicating.

"There's a bit of rivalry. Sometimes. And it's rather fun." He replied. You nodded in agreement. "Besides, we're not entirely perfect. Look at your brother, he's very meticulous in mapping out scenarios and good at speculating probabilities. He's the school prodigy. But that school prodigy has a secret. Wanna know what? He dances like a withered vegetable being shaken up in someone's hands." You, except for him, all giggled. But he had a comeback of course.

"I can dance, excuse me. Hiphop just isn't my style. And you know what? Not only does [Y/N] destroy a song's purity, she can never be a match for any sports for me."

You harshly stepped on his foot, earning a loud groan from him.

Dinner went smoothly. You felt like you didn't need to eat for at least three days, however there were still some desserts to eat. The conversation regarding each families' personal matters continued with you being quite invested in it. Then eventually, the 'most' awaited part arrived—they actually saved it for last—wherein they sang you a happy birthday as you made your wish. Who knows what it was? Only you know the answer to that. You blew your candle and they clapped happily. It made you feel like a kid but it was fun. And then you continued to eat. Cake, ice cream—and there were a lot more. For some reason you also requested a bag of potato chips.

And you already felt bad for the horrors your toilet was about to see.

It was the karaoke's time to steal the spotlight, again. You only watched them sing, although a bit out of tune they were clearer better than you completely murdering those notes. You tried ushering Light to sing but he irritatedly responded a no to you for the nth time. There were only two times you heard his singing voice— and damn, he really is a talented man. But it wasn't exactly his main forte so he refused to do it again.

"Let's get drunk too!" You jested, looking at your parents who were now acting like drunk and cheesy teenagers. Welp they had some drinks.

"[Y/N], you know I don't drink." Light shook his head and sighed, sensing an incoming annoyance at the way you were acting.

"Oh? If that's the case then mind you explaining to me why you're still alive because-not-drinking-would-lead-to-dehydration-which-apparently-leads-to-your-death-if-not—"

"You know that's not what—"

"Let's get high on caffeeeeeine insteaaad!! One cup of bullshit and the other crappuccino!"

Your parents glared at you. Your boyfriend was beginning to get highly concerned. "Why is she like this?"

"Perhaps too much coffee is really unhealthy, that's why, son."

"Whaddaya mean coffee? She didn't even drink any! All she drank was milk! Eight glasses every other day! Blame the milk!"

'What did I do to deserve this?'

He thought, and there you went again with your maniacal laughter. If Light and you hadn't known each other he'd definitely think you're a complete psychopath.

"Oh dear! Did I just say that? God, why did I do that? Liiiiiight..." You shook him. "If I ever start acting like that again please stop me."

"You are acting lke that right now. That's not cute. You're not even drunk."

"Quit being a killjoy, I'm enjoying my 'drunk' state. This is an experiment."

"What the hell? You are sober yet you're doing things worse than people who aren't do."

"But it's honestly fun."

"I can't blame you for being so irritatingly childish since it's your birthday, but it's time to stop that. Stop it. Get some help."

"Stop me then. You're the good guy here."

"How can I stop someone so crazy?"

"They say a kiss on the forehead can stop someone doing crazy stuffs.."

"You're only making that up."

"So what if I am? I speak facts. So, go on, please."

He pressed his lips together and thought about it. It was barely visible but you were sure that he's blushing.

"HAHAHAHA! I forgot my babyboy can't kiss without feeling so yucky about it."

"Hush."

"Psh, don't bite on me mate! I'll do the honor then." You were already kissing his forehead the moment he thought about running away. You weren't able to hold back a smirk as you did. He was grimacing the whole time, but he was actually enjoying it. But of course, he'd never let it show.

To 'annoy' him more, you butterfly pecked your way to the tip of his nose. You pulled back at least an inch or two from his face. And to your surprise, he pecked your lips.

It was so light that you thought it felt like hair on your skin. Thankfully your parents and Sayu—or maybe not Sayu—were too busy to give a damn about it.

You wordlessly sank back, face the reddest it could ever get.

"You stay still now."

"Heh... How about one mor—"

"Absolutely not. That's a kiss worth for three months. We had a deal back then, didn't we?"

"I'm starting to regret that deal."

"It was your idea."

"Let's disregard that deal."

"Nope. I gave my word. You did too."

"Oh come on!"

"'Kissing is a waste of time,' you say."

"I take it back!"

"You don't." He chuckled. You elbowed him and groaned.

You then were idly eating more of the chips as you watched your parents dance shamelessly. They began to coax you and Light to do the same because it was your special day after all. You and Light had different opinions about it. And, he was in.

"Why not? Afraid of your true skills being exposed?"

"Why should I be afraid to expose talent? Heck it's just not my liking. Besides, didn't we already dance?"

"Yeah but that was last year on your 18th birthday. You danced with other guys too. So maybe, maybe— just maybe, I only want to solo you right now."

"Wha— pfahahahaha! Did you just say that? Say that again!"

"Ah? No. Nevermind. Forget it."

"Awe sorry. It's just rare to see that side of yours. Hmm, how can I refuse now?" You pressed your lips in order not to laugh at the way he looked, as if he was regretting everything he did in his life. You stood up and offered him your hand, in which he refused to accept since it was his job to do in the first place.

"Oh! But I don't wanna dance here. Let's go to my room. I have an idea." He merely nodded. "Mom, dad, we're just going to go upstairs! In case you'll wonder why we suddenly disappeared."

"Can I come with you? I don't really want to dance or sing with them." Sayu jumped at you. You shook your head and Light spoke on your behalf. "Kids aren't allowed. Let us have our privacy this time."

"—Sorry but he's right. I do have some games you can play for you to pass the time. Or books, over there if that piques your interest. Don't worry, we'll be back quick to make sure you won't be lonely."

"Alright! Thank you!"

"Ah but why not join us here?" Your mom frowned.

"We have some business to do in my room—" That came out vague, but it was too late. Your mildly drunk dad had already replied, "Don't forget the protection, okay?" Leaving you, Light, his parents, and your mom to have that 'What the fuck?' look on your faces.

You two raced to your room nonetheless, quickly locking it. He was surprised to see how much of a mess it was. Mostly just the bed and the heap of completely random things on top of your cabinet. If he's a neat genius, you're the untidy one.

"Do you ever seriously clean?"

"Why clean it when it'll just eventually turn into a mess again? I can work perfectly fine in this state."

He shook his head and picked up a pillow and the bedsheet lying on the floor, but you stopped him before he could lay his hands on your one-hell-of-a-mess bed.

If you two ever do get married someday, the marriage would certainly include a lot of chaotic things and arguments about the chaos you've bestowed upon your damned house.

"I didn't bring you here to be my personal cleaner. Stop that."

"I'm actually doing you a favor???"

"We have other business. Cleaning is uninteresting. As your girlfriend, it's my duty to stop you investing yourself in such a boring activity."

"You're not really much of a good influence, are you? Fine. But I'm gonna do it once we finish anyway."

You snorted and opened the curtains to add a slightly relaxing view to the scene.

The rain hadn't stopped, still hostile and loud. You were lucky your room had a nice view of the streetlight. Though it would've looked better at dusk— more romantic to a lovers' liking when they dance as the sun sets, coating the sky in a mixture of lively, serene colors, with the streetlight slowly coming to life and they wouldn't realize it because they're lost in their own world.

You smiled at the thought. You wanted to do that with Light even though you knew you would never say it out loud— or who knows?

While your boyfriend was looking at the window, you turned on your lamp and the purple LED lights you had hanging on the walls and turned off the ceiling light. The room was then turned to a dull purple one. But it looked better than before—if you were to ignore the tangled mess on your bed of course, in which case was thankfully barely visible now— and at least to set a specific mood.

"Outdoing ourselves, aren't we?"

"Yes, well.. doesn't it look more.. romantiiiiiic to you?"

"Maybe. All that's missing now is the music. And maybe roses too, hmm? But it's alright. I have the prettiest rose here already."

"Oh my God. Are you really Light Yagami, or just a spirit who had taken over?"

"Shut up. I thought the word romantic was never in your dictionary."

"Ah, but I have a lot of words in my dictionary, so you'll never know, my dear." You winked and took one rose out of the bouquet he had given you. You handed it to him. "There goes your rose."

He cringed, but he was smiling too. He tucked your hair behind your ears and placed the rose on top of it. Now all that was left to do was to play the music.

"Hey Light. We're gonna regret being this overly romantic one day, aren't we?"

"Probably. And all that cheesy stuff. But who knows? We may or may not end up like our parents and continue whatever this saga is."

"Yep. But I also think we'd regret it more if we don't grab the chance to do it."

"Well said, [Y/N]."

You grinned and went on to play the music on your vintage gramophone. Needless to say you were quite the quaint one. And Light knew well of this.

"Shall I have this dance, my lady?"

"Why, I thought you'd never ask."

You hid a smile as well as he. You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands were on your waist and you two slow danced, the rest of the world falling away. You thought whenever someone would say it, they're just exaggerating. But you were wrong. It really did feel like it that it might have been the closest to heaven you'd get.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you...

His eyes were locked on yours. This time, he wasn't holding back anymore. He was feeling the moment just as you were. And who cares if your movements weren't completely in sync with the music that was barely audible due to the rain?

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin?

If I can't help falling in love with you...

The smile you were hiding broke out when he pulled you closer. It was definitely a rare event so you had to savor it. Slow dancing in the dark, just like old lovers.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be...

You might've had already ran out of steps halfway to the song. You two stood still, bodies pressed with you looking up at him. He rested his forehead against yours. Your faces were so close that you swore you could already feel his lips against yours.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you...

And at that moment you really felt that you wanted him to take your whole life. You couldn't dream a world without your Light anymore.

To your surprise, he cupped your face and kissed your forehead, his lips lingering there for a while as your bodies merely swayed to the rhythm of the song.

You love this man. He's not entirely perfect, but he's the best for you. He's your match. He's your lover. He's your rival. You were his, too.

"Psst, Light. I love you.." You whispered, pecking his cheek.

He stared at you with amusement, his adorable smile growing wider.

"I love you too."

"Even if you smell like shit right now..."

"You too. But did I complain?"

"Oh shush." You laughed. His arms tightly embraced you, and you rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and smiling to yourself as you two continued to lightly sway your bodies. He as well closed his eyes, leaning his cheeks against your head.

He considered this moment to be one of the bests where he's genuinely happy.

And outside, unbeknownst to you, stood a lonesome fellow under the streetlamp, drenched in the rain, a wistful smile on their face as they looked up to witness a moment like that from you two, wishing that one day they'll get to do that with someone too.

#light x reader #light yagami x reader #death note x reader #death note x you #light yagami x you #death note imagines #death note fluff #character x you #my comfort fic lol #sayu yagami

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debbiebeary · 3 years

Text

Disgust and Ecstasy

“God, Dillon, your butt is so damn perfect!” crooned Brian between mouthfuls of his sweet, young starfish. Dillon whipped his legs around in ecstasy on the bed where, occasionally, Brian and his husband (presently at work) would sleep in together. The room was tight, but cozy inside the charming 1920’s-era character home. The last shimmers of dusk shone blue through the window and the amber glow of a lamp on the other side of the room bounced off a far wall, flooding the two writhing men in its honeyed light. “Thanks big daddy!” the handsome young cub replied, his tongue flopped out of his mouth in bliss as his heavy set daddy friend slurped between his fit little asscheeks.

Dillon was attending university in the Pacific Northwest in the Willamette valley, just over the cascades was the town of Alder Glade, where Brian worked on the school district board and was also a producer at the local theatre.

The two were drawn to one another initially through mutual attraction. Dillon was a chubby chaser. Always had been, always would be, and from the moment he set his eyes on the Nordic beefcake he was sold. Eyes sparkling blue like a glacial lake, a full greying beard unsuccessfully covering a thick neck, double chin and perky chubby cheeks. Down lower Brian had a healthy portion of fur covering his meaty chest and round pot belly.

A belly that was almost always sucked in, much to Dillon’s lament.

Brian may have been a chubby daddy, but he was what some people may call a ‘sad chub’, an ‘accidental bear’ (as opposed to an on purpose bear), a ‘reluctant fat boy’. He may have enjoyed the attention from younger men his status gave him, but if things were up to him he would have been a lean muscle bear with not an ounce of fat on him.

Dillon, though enjoying the romps with the larger daddy, (as presently he was twisted around with his back against the sheets, the big daddy bear lunging towards his erect, throbbing member, sinking down all the way to his brown bush), he couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing.

In the last year since university he had put on thirty pounds, going from roughly one hundred and thirty pounds to one hundred and sixty, if he had it his way he'd add at least another hundred pounds on top of where he was, too. He felt sexier than ever, yet as he guided his daddies hand to his softening stomach, he felt Brian scoff through his fellatio, reluctantly giving his cubby a rather passionless belly rub. He couldnt help but feel a little bit deflated in response, but he tried hard to stay hard. Turns out it was hard work.

Dillon rolled his eyes and tried his best to enjoy the blowjob. Imagining his friend stating ‘oh my, look at this belly you’re growing, fattening up nicely aren’t we, boy?’ or ‘looks like my little butterball is going to be a bear soon’ while giving his growing tummy a healthy slap. He could tell, however, this would never be the case. Brian liked him because he had just enough meat on his bones he wasn’t skinny anymore, but too much more meat would be more than the older bear could stomach. He loved his fur, his skin, his hazel eyes and mischievous smirk. He did not like his gaining fetish.

“C’mon big daddy. Rub my big belly!” said Dillon in a husky voice.

“You’re still just an otter, boy.” The daddy growled as his face was buried in his crotch between his budding fupa and thickening thigh. Dillon hated it when his daddy friend downplayed his weight gain. Total boner killer.

Dillon sighed.

“Alright Brian, time for me to fuck that fat ass.” Dillon chirped excitedly, trying to keep things interesting, especially after that intentionally disruptive comment of Brians.

Which brings us to the second issue between the two, Brian was a reluctant bottom, only taking the position so he could get his hands on Dillon’s 'still perfect' body. He wasn’t, however, particularly enthusiastic about the whole setup and sighed deeply before taking the position.

“Alright boy,” he said, sticking his chubby ass up into the air, at two hundred eighty pounds and a height of six foot three, it gave Dillon quite the mountain to climb for his prize. But as usual, that wasn’t the position Dillon wanted to take Brian. He stared and smirked in response,

"C'mon boy, I don't have all night, Ken will be home at 11."

“Naw big bear, not like that. On your back. I wanna see your big sexy belly!” Brian failed to fully hide a grimace as he flipped onto his back, his tummy wobbling slightly as he did so, only slightly, however because Brian’s abdomen was still tensed in vain, always to Dillon’s chagrin.

“Oooh fuck that’s so hot Brian!”

“Well at least someone likes it!”

“Oh god yeah I do,” Dillon said, guiding his lubed up dick towards Brian’s hole between his fluffy buns, “fuck yes I dooo!” he moaned as his cock sunk into Brian’s hole.

“fuck…” Dillon moaned as he began to rock on his knees against Brian’s chubby rear. Brian’s cheeks were red and sweat began seeping out onto his bald forehead as he was beginning to get pounded, Dillon often started slow but often reached a fever pitch. Brian's cheeks and chin began to wobble with every thrust, but those weren't the only features jiggling.

As Dillon found his rhythm he looked down at Brian’s gut, when he was being pounded in missionary there was no attempt to suck in, showing, at last, the tubby extent of Brian’s grey furred belly. The faster and harder Dillon pumped his dick into Brian the more Brian’s chunky belly began to ripple, his shallow but wide belly button beckoned him and Dillon began to finger and massage it,

“Such a sexy belly, daddy.”

“Thanks…” Brian croaked dubiously.

Dillon leaned forward and clamped his mouth around Brian’s fat moob, sucking hard on his nipple.

“Ohhhh, boy, that feels so good!” moaned Brian despite himself.

“Fuck I love nursing your fat tiddies daddy!”

As Dillon got closer and closer to his climax he released Brian’s legs and grabbed his soft, wobbling gut with both his hands, shaking it with all his might, rippling his fat as he began to pound Brian’s rear as hard as he could,

“So. Fucking. Fat!” Dillon cried out as he flooded Brian’s guts with cum.

Dillon rolled off Brian panting and Brian finished himself off quickly with his right hand and a few flicks of his wrist, snuggling up to Dillon after getting off.

Dillon had news but he wasn’t even sure he wanted to say it out loud.

“In a few weeks I’m going to Vancouver to see a feeder.” He said simply

“Dillon,” Brian responded in a concerned tone, “I’m getting worried about this fetish of yours.”

Dillon sighed and rolled his eyes reading Brian’s text after sending him a dick pic.

Brian: you better watch that belly, son, I don’t want it to get too big and cover your cock and your bush.

Dillon wanted more than anything for it to cover his cock and his bush. Comments like this weren’t rare either, they were getting more common, especially after his lecture about abdominal weight being bad for the heart the last time they were both together before his trip up to Vancouver.

‘Yadda yadda. Like I haven’t had that catastrophizing, clean eating, healthy heart shit crammed down my throat all my life,’ Dillon would always think when confronted with such obtuse sermonizing.

Sermonizing that was becoming more and more common in recent times and not without a cause either.

It had been three months since the feeding in Vancouver B.C., which occurred late November. The trip was a hedonistic foray with a handsome blonde bear named Hayden, who sat at a rotund two hundred eighty five pounds and had a thick slab of an overhang tantalizing Dillon between every mouthful of sea-salted chocolate caramel ice cream (lactose free). His deep, mostly smooth but only very lightly blonde-furred belly and golden skin, only interrupted by the odd mole (which Dillon thought was sexy anyhow) and dopey, thick bearded face drove Dillon to the heights of ecstasy.

Since that meeting something clicked in Dillon’s brain. Mainly his appetite. The consequence? A lot had changed. Particularly Dillon’s waistline. Brian was right to cringe. Dillon had blossomed from one hundred and sixty pounds to one hundred eighty five. The twenty five pound gain hardly went unnoticed. Classmates made fun of his double chin. He bought an entire new wardrobe. His parents were concerned. His sister across in Baltimore laughed at his chubby face over Zoom. All in all he was feeling rather pleased with himself.

He looked in the mirror and stretched his arms above his head until the shirt he was wearing rode up all the way past his bellybutton.

“Finally outgrown mediums!” He exclaimed to himself cheerfully. Cupping the belly with both hands, he lifted it from underneath, pooching it up, making the bellybutton appear deeper. He stuck his finger in. With the belly smooshed up the way it was his finger was already as far in as it would go as it did when he put it in Brian’s. He imagined himself fatter.

Brian: it’s going to be fun playing with that dick this weekend, boy.

Dillon paused. Fiendishly, he propped his phone against a cup and a shampoo bottle in front of his dorm mirror and angled his phone until it framed his belly perfectly. He took a video of himself jiggling his new soft belly, fur abound, some of it getting sucked into the black hole of his belly button. After a few jiggles get gave his little growing gut a few meaty slaps and ended the recording. He then sent it to Brian.

Brian: that’s an unfortunate look.

Dillon: how come?

Three dots scintillating in that monochromatic frosted blue inside the mellow primary blue bubble. Then they stopped. Dillon face twisted with mischief.

Dillon: is it because my belly is getting big?

Three dots. This time a response followed.

Brian: Dillon. You’re getting too fat.

Dillon’s dick sprang to attention.

Brian: You need to start hitting the gym before you get any bigger.

Dillon’s dick throbbed so hard he felt like he would faint. Through his wicked, lust-fuelled haze a seed of a scheme germinated and burst through the damp soil of his mind, a season full of conniving growth passed in an instant.

‘I wonder how much fatter I can get before I see him again?’

Dillon: how fat is too fat?

Brian: when you have the same BMI as I do.

Dillon quickly added things up, Brian’s BMI had recently gone up due to him gaining back a bunch of weight, now sitting at three hundred twenty pounds. To which he couldn’t even coax a belly pic from Brian (well, he managed to get one, but Brian was standing with ‘good posture’ and sucking in his gut so hard it made his face look constipated).

‘6’3, 320 lbs.’

‘5’11, 185…’

He played with the numbers on the BMI converter on his phone until they showed him what he needed to know.

He needed to gain one hundred pounds.

‘So be it then’

Quickly, he thought up a lie, a delicious one, and concocted a plan in his head immediately.

Dillon: oh man! I’m sorry daddy! My sister is coming over from Baltimore, haven’t seen her in a while. We’ll have to reschedule!

Brian: aww, that’s too bad cub. Have fun with your family though!

Dillon: sure thing!

Three more months of classes. He’d been sitting on his lazy ass eating cafeteria food, fast food and tonnes of soda, milk everything. It’s what caused his weight to go up so drastically in just three months. He calculated at least another twenty pounds.

‘185 + 20….’

Unable to contain himself, be brushed his growing pink nipples amongst a sea of fur after ripping his shirt off over his head in a swift motion.

‘…= 205lbs’

He had to take his hand off his dick so he didn’t cum.

He never thought he’d be over two hundred, and just in time for swimsuit season he calculated - a conservative estimate -that he would be at least five pounds over.

His next thoughts made his body operate as if on autopilot.

Dillon: hey Hayden, does your work still need an extra guy… uh, bearista? And are you still looking for a room mate? Maybe I could come up and fill both those positions. That is if they’re willing to pay an illegal American under the table.

The very thought of his plan working filled Dillon with such lust he looked in the mirror and thought about what he would look like at two-o-five.

Then he thought what it would look like at two eighty five.

He plunged his thumb into his belly button and wrapped his fingers down under his belly, he stood hunched so he gave himself an overhang to grab onto. Dropping his phone into the empty sink, he twisted his nipple with his other hand.

“Yeah, fuckin piggy. We,” he jiggled his belly to let it know he was addressing it, “we got a lot of growing to do in Canada, don’t we piggy? Yeah, I’m gonna get so fuckin fat, I’m gonna get so big it’ll give Brian a fuckin stroke!” He said, his voice getting whiny and lustful “Brian? Uh, fuck. Brian, why are you looking at me like that?”

And he mimicked Brian’s voice,

“Good-god boy! What the fuck have you done to yourself!?” a vividly imagined expression popped into Dillon’s head of a dismayed Brian looking down at an obese Dillon splayed out on his bed, fat rolls cascading down his furry body.

At that, wheezing and panting, clearly on his way to becoming out of shape, he threw his head back, stumbling backwards against the wall, and sprayed his load all over his chunky reflection in front of him.

“Oh fuck yea!”

After he cleaned up he remembered the text that sent him on his horned out fantasy. Grabbing his phone, he noticed two texts that made him want to do it all over again.

Brian: don’t eat too much with your family! You’re getting too chubby! Maybe hit the gym instead.

He’d lay into that last comment for sure. As a lie. Then he read the next one.

Hayden: yeah bud! We’d love to have you up here! I’m over 330 now and only getting bigger, maybe I’ll rub off on you a bit!

“Rub off on me? That’s the idea baby!”

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jamespotterthefirst · 4 years

Text

Five Birthdays (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.4K Warning: Implied adult situations Premise: Ethan’s birthdays with her in the next five years.

Author’s Note: A birthday fic that I wrote a while ago and wanted to post on my birthday. Dedicated to @perriewinklenerdie , @scorpiochick8 , and all the beautiful Scorpios out there. November babies, this is for you too! Thank you @aestheticartsx for reading through this mess! Hope you like it.

Year One

A soft knock pulled Ethan away from his latest patient chart. Interruptions were always a source of irritation but tonight he almost welcomed it. His body ached with exhaustion and his eyelids were heavy after the sixteen hour day.

The door opened to reveal Dr. Allende, looking uncharacteristically bashful as she entered, hands behind her back.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, his attention falling quickly to the chart. This he only did as an excuse to glance away because she was biting her bottom lip the way she did when nervous. It was a quirk that always drove him to distraction.

She said nothing as she approached, and Ethan could see in his peripheral that she did so cautiously. After a small pause, she set a tall to-go cup of coffee on the desk in front of him, successfully getting his attention.

“I brought you coffee,” she said by way of explanation. She opened her mouth to say more, but closed it immediately, looking uncharacteristically flustered and even a little anxious. She tried again, “The Vienna. From the coffee house you took me to a few weeks ago.”

Ethan removed his spectacles, staring at the cup. “I can see that. Though I commend you on the choice, I am still uncertain why you went through the trouble.”

The pretty intern flushed, looking prettier still, much to Ethan's frustration.

“I didn't know what else you liked. And I wanted to get you something.”

Ethan's confusion lasted only a second before realization sunk in. His stomach dropped and he all but groaned. For some reason, this seemed to ease some of her tension. She even looked a tad bit amused.

“Who told you?”

“Dr. Banerji,” she responded, not surprising Ethan in the least. “He let it slip while I was drawing blood for that full work up you ordered.”

Ethan huffed, sincerely doubting the old man had let the detail slip accidentally.

“Happy birthday,” she added and this time, the amusement was undeniable in her voice.

“You can't tell anyone,” he implored, feeling his face grow hotter by the second. He shuddered to think of the fuss people in the hospital would make if they knew, particularly the nursing staff. “I've worked too hard these past years to keep that a secret. Trust me, it's not an easy feat when Marlene is in charge of the birthday board.”

Lilac laughed, the sound so pleasant he almost forgot to be mortified. “Imagine the parties they'd throw in your honor, Dr. Ramsey. I don't think I can rob everyone of such a good time.”

“Lilac.”

More laughter. “I won't tell a soul,” she said solemnly. Ethan was still unconvinced and she rolled her eyes. “Just drink your coffee, Ron Swanson.”

___________________________________

Year Two

Lilac glanced around with interest, pressing her clipboard tightly against her chest. Ethan almost snorted at her feigned attempt to seem invested. There was nothing particularly interesting about the supply closet they both occupied.

“Interesting choice, Doctor,” she commented anyway, sounding thoroughly amused.

“I didn't think you'd mind meeting here,” he returned, feeling emboldened enough to flirt with the pretty young resident before him. He had already pulled her into a supply closet with the enthusiasm of an intern. Ethan might as well enjoy the full thrill of breaking the rules. “If you have moral qualms, however, just say the word and we can both go back to work.”

Lilac proved she had no complaints by closing the already small space between them and kissing him fully. The clipboard clattered to the floor as her hands slid up his shoulders and clung around his neck. Ethan responded in kind, his hands settling on the dip of her waist, his lips eagerly moving against hers.

She hissed a little as their kiss went from passionate to desperate, hands, lips, and teeth tugging at one another. These days, it only took a matter of seconds to reach that level, both growing needier by the day.

“I didn't take you for the type to make out in a supply closet,” she said breathlessly when they finally pulled apart.

“Honestly? The idea seemed juvenile until I started making out with you.” He gave her a half smile that made her eyes linger on his lips. “I've been thinking of nothing else ever since we broke into Mass Kenmore.”

Ever since that event, he'd had several detailed fantasies that included Lilac in a supply closet with him, but he decided not to disclose them as the majority were irrefutably not safe for work. Then again, the way she pressed her body flush against his, her rosy lips trailing kisses along his jaw, was anything but appropriate for the workplace.

“Whatever the birthday boy wants, the birthday boy gets.”

Ethan involuntarily shuddered at the word birthday, which in turn made her pull away in laughter.

“No one is going to hear us here. You picked the supply closet in a construction zone that no one is allowed to be in.”

She was taunting him but Ethan didn't mind. If anything, he concluded that two could play at the game. With a devilish, lopsided smile that caught her attention again he said in a dangerous, low whisper, “I just thought you'd want to scream my name without the whole hospital hearing you.”

The surprised look that turned lustful in seconds sent a thrill of satisfaction through Ethan. He claimed her lips again without restraint, successfully opening the buttons of her blouse before him. There was no time to admire the black lace that left little to the imagination, when his pager demanded his attention.

He groaned but fixed his clothes and hair at once. When he was presentable once again, Ethan paused to give her one last, longing look. A familiar, mournful feeling settled in his stomach as another clandestine encounter came to an end.

Her responding smile was understanding, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. At this point, he was certain that she did.

“Happy birthday,” she murmured, lifting herself to press a sweet, tender kiss to his cheek.

Not for the first time, he wished for nothing more than to be able to kiss her whenever, however he wanted, no matter who saw.

___________________________________

Year Three

Ethan pressed her against the wall, escalating their usual goodbye kiss after a long day at the hospital. Though a little surprised at first, Lilac quickly recovered and kissed him back just as eagerly. When they broke the kiss for breath, she raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

Ethan shrugged, the pad of his thumb trailing the faint freckles on her cheeks. The truth was now that he could finally kiss her without needing a reason to and without caring who was around, he couldn't seem to stop.

In this particular instance, it was Naveen who entered the office, clearing his throat meaningfully. They didn't spring apart from one another as they used to, pretending (rather poorly) that they were only colleagues. Instead, they remained in each other's arms as they looked at the Chief. The older man did not seem to mind one bit for he watched them with a warm, proud smile.

“Ready for our meeting with the Board, Ethan?”

“No.”

Naveen chuckled good-naturedly. “It'll be a short one. I'll make sure of it lest Dr. Allende hates me for making her finance work late on his birthday.”

It did not go unnoticed by everyone that Ethan didn't exactly have a visceral reaction to the word, unlike the past years. Naveen shot him a fatherly smile and Lilac pressed a loving, chaste kiss on his cheek.

“I'll wait for you at home.” She waited until the Chief was out of the room to whisper in Ethan's ear, “I have a surprise for you.”

The heady promise stole his attention for the rest of the evening, which was a good thing because the meeting was as useless as he had expected. An hour and a half later, he discovered he was right in rushing home to Lilac.

She was waiting for him in the living, perched on the backrest of the love seat and clad in the shortest silk robe he had ever seen. Her shapely legs were exposed for his viewing pleasure, save for the sheer, black stockings ending with lace at her thighs. The echo of her previous promise adorned everything from her coy smile to the scandalous patch of lace peeking from the neckline of her robe.

“Took you long enough,” she teased in a breathy sort of voice that had an instant effect on him.

She hopped off the sofa, walking toward the dining room, hips swaying with each step. On any regular day, the sight would have been enough inspiration to tease her until she begged him to take her on any given surface of their apartment. In her current attire, he wished to pin her against the wall with primal urgency in ten seconds or less.

“I ordered us food from—”

In one quick stride, he spun her around, his mouth devouring hers in a scorching kiss. Lilac matched his passion, her silk-clad body melting deliciously against his, her arms locking around his neck.

“Happy birthday,” she moaned as he ran his tongue down her neck and into the exposed valley of her breasts.

Ethan had never been happier.

Not only because he was currently peeling the flimsy robe off with his teeth, revealing a lacy black number underneath, but also because of the three words that left her lips, as natural and wondrous as the beautiful sunset through the window.

“I love you.”

He could never tire of hearing them.

___________________________________

Year Four

Ethan awoke to soft, lazy kisses and a curtain of dark hair enveloping them both. When she straightened with a tired smile, he missed the floral scent of her shampoo at once. He groaned in protest and pulled her body against his for another quick kiss, cutting the small shriek of surprise short.

“Good morning,” he greeted between slow, delicious sips of her mouth.

“Good morning indeed,” she sighed in return. At last, when they fully pulled apart, she picked up a tray from the nightstand and set it on his lap. “Happy birthday! I made you pancakes. ”

He took in the pretty array before him, complete with coffee and a small vase of red carnations. Ethan flashed her a grateful grin, not missing the dark circles under her eyes or the exhausted sigh that escaped her as her head sank into the pillows.

“Is that what was burning earlier?”

Lilac laughed dryly, eyes shut. “Laugh all you want, Ramsey, but at least I can actually make them.”

“Touché.”

He savored her offerings in silence, admiring how her cooking had improved dramatically in her years with him. Lilac continued to rest against the pillows, looking so blissful, he couldn't help but smile. Within minutes, her muscles relaxed and her breathing became more even as she drifted into sleep.

The crackle of the speaker on their bedside startled her awake. If that hadn't done it, then the wailing that soon followed would have done it. “He's awake,” she mumbled, already moving to sit up.

Ethan placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, easing her back into the pillows. “I'll go.”

His son's crying subsided as soon as Ethan scooped him up and swayed him gently. He grinned down at his three-month-old, unable to contain the warm pride expanding in his chest.

“Good morning. You're up early after keeping us up for most of the night,” he murmured, kissing his tiny forehead. Ethan would give up all his hours of sleep if it meant holding his perfect son in his arms.

By the time they returned to the bedroom, Lilac was sound asleep, face buried unceremoniously in the pillows. Ethan smiled fondly at his wife, making a mental note to lovingly tease her about the snoring later. Quietly, he settled in bed next to her, carefully setting Jonah facedown on his chest.

Lilac mumbled something incomprehensible, sleepily burrowing into his arm. Jonah, meanwhile, drifted off into an easy sleep against his father's chest. Ethan smiled broadly, the gesture coming much more naturally than in past years, as he enjoyed a quiet morning with his perfect little family.

___________________________________

Year Five

“Happy birthday!” his wife exclaimed. Ethan wasn't sure what his toddler son had shrieked out. All he knew was that he matched his mother's enthusiasm as they presented the small, thickly frosted cake on the counter.

Ethan raised his brows at the creation before him. “You two made this just for me?”

Lilac beamed. “Yep, just Jonah and I.”

The slight pitch in her voice made Ethan chuckle. “I find that hard to believe. One of you barely has the fine motor skills needed to operate in a kitchen.”

“Cachen!” Jonah exclaimed, claiming his father's attention. Ethan bent down and kissed the top of his head.

“And the other is a one year old toddler,” Ethan finished, earning him an adorable glare from his wife.

“You think you're so funny, Ramsey.”

“I know I am, Allende.”

“That’s Allende-Ramsey to you.” Without warning, she scooped up a dollop of frosting and smeared it on Ethan's mouth.

Unfazed, Ethan licked off the excess before pulling her into a kiss. Lilac laughed against his sugar coated lips while Jonah shrieked with happiness, forcing them to pull apart.

“Either way, thank you for making this for me,” he said, gesturing toward the now marred cake.

“Antsina!”

Ethan glanced at his son curiously. “What is he saying?”

Lilac, meanwhile, shook her head comically at their son.

“Ant sina!” the baby repeated, his short arms outstretched towards the cake.

“Aunt Sienna?” Ethan guessed with a small laugh, looking at his wife. “Sienna helped you with this, didn’t she?”

Lilac seemed abashed, looking as though she had half a mind to deny it. Her shoulders dropped in defeat, however, and with a small laugh she said, “I didn’t think my baby would give me away, but yes.” At her husband’s smug smile, she added, “But Jonah and I helped! Jonah tasted the frosting and I helped with the batter.”

Her smile turned sheepish as she thought of something and added, “Actually, your daughter may have helped with that too. This makes for the perfect bowl stand.” Her hands lovingly caressed her very pregnant belly.

Ethan leaned in to kiss it and Jonah, always mimicking his father, leaned in to do the same. Both parents laughed, kissing their son in turn.

“Make a wish,” Lilac instructed as she lit the candles.

A knot formed in his throat as Ethan considered there was no need for that. In the past five years, he had been fortunate enough to find everything he could ever want.

___________________________________

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! I love you all <3

Also, I have hit a major writer’s block when concerning Part 2 of the Miami chapter in the Picta series. Slowly but surely, I am getting there. Thank you for being so patient!

Finally, if you asked me to add you to the tag list and I haven’t, please message me. I am so disorganized and forgetful. I’m so sorry!

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tags: @openheart12 , @takeharryandgo , @trappedinfanfiction, @aestheticartsx, @aworldoffandoms, @paulfwesley, @myusualnerdyself, @rookie-ramsey, @ohchoices, @colossalpainintheass, @enmchoices, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker, @choicesfanaf, @openheartthot, @octobereighth, @nazarihoe, @utterlyinevitable, @kites-in-our-skies, @maurine07, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @doilooklikeiknow, @snesdudes, @kingliam2019, @perriewinklenerdie, @cinnamonspongecake, @choicesstan1, @queencarb, @ethxnrxmsey, @missmiimiie, @jens-diamondchoices, @adamsdumortain, @apphia12, @kalogh, @lucy-268, @binny1985, @queenbirbs, @honeyandsunfl0wers, @newcolonies, @lilyvalentine, @rigatonireid, @interobanginyourmom, @parkerattano, @custaroonie, @nikki-2406, @lilypills, @chasingrobbie, @nooruleman, @lonely-mxxnlight, @ruinedbypixels, @shadynaturehilariouscookie, @tsrookie, @mvalentine, @professorkingslay, @drakewalkerfantasy, @casey-v, @helloblueeyedcat, @mysticaurathings, @blossomanarchy, @thegreentwin, @togetherwearerapture, @rookieoh, @ramseysno1rookie, @rookiemarsswiftie, @natashajaniphil, @mysticalgalaxysstuff, @hatescapsicum, @choices-lurker, @kiara-36, @junehiratas, @danijimenezv, @macy-ray85, @adrex04, @canigetanawwjunk, @sanchita012, @overwhelminglyaquarius , @scorpiochick8, @skylarklyon, @starrystarrytrouble, @mercury84choices, @drariellevalentine, @ethanrcmsey, @lion-ess24, @aarisa-frost, @kaavyaethanramsey , @udishaman, @a-crepusculo, @quacksonlover,

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction

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extravaguk · 3 years

Text

santa&prada

part of my opposites attract! series.

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / kth / jjk

pairing: rich!jimin x reader

summary: Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

wordcount: 5k

genre: smut - angst(? - fluff (? idk u tell me

rated: m

warnings: a christmas fic in late november, cursing, a huge misunderstanding lmao, i call jimin ‘park jimin’ too many times bc i felt like it, car sex, oral (f recieving), some good ole spanking, (kinda) rough and unprotected sex, a lil of dirty talk, spit kink. thats about it. just an excuse to write jimin fucking you in a car. jimin is not as bad as oc thinks srsly.

The first time you meet Park Jimin is through mutual friends. On a firday night on December, with white, red and green lights decorating the streets of New York, filled with the typical hustle of the masses doing last minute Christmas shopping, the freezing weather impacting your body temperature, cursing yourself for choosing tights, a skirt and heeled boots that are too pretty but too uncomfortable to wear.

You had never considered yourself a particular enthusiast of Christmas festivities. You guess discovering Santa Claus was, actually, your parents before the rest of the kids in your class was one of the many reasons that made you grow up too soon and therefore, not allowing you to fully enjoy the month of December. Or maybe it had nothing to do with Santa, and more to do with your parents deciding to get a divorce a day before Christmas Eve. A traumatic event for seven year old you, but completely forgotten and overcome by twenty-four year old present you.

Growing up each Christmas suffering the consecuences of a shared custody would have probably had a disastrous effect on anybody else, but not you. Although the separation was a tough reality to accept at first, fortunately your parents were always capable of raising you in an environment full of love and affection, just like any other kid. And you prided yourself on having moved on from those circumstances a long time ago (even if your therapist disagreed and blamed many of your behaviors on it. Whatever.)

To put it simply, December was just not the month for you. It was just another month, like the remaining eleven of the year, except Mariah Carey's voice was heard every five minutes everywhere you'd go and people gave each other presents as if it was only during that time of the year when they remembered their loved ones.

The only thing you could thank Christmas for were the well deserved two weeks of holidays our work allowed until the new year's arrival. Fifteen days of rest, peace and baking those gingerbread cookies that Seokjin died for and that you sincerely denoted as nauseating.

You truly had no idea what exactly you did wrong that night. You don't know if it was something you said, or something you did, but what you did know was that Park Jimin pursued a silent and personal vendetta against you that continued nowadays.

"Here are your disgusting cookies, you filthy animal." it might have been that very first sentence you said when you entered the bar and reunited with your friends that didn't cause a good impression. "Shit, it's cold as fuck. My nipples are harder than my life." or maybe it was your selection of words while you waved every familiar face hello until you stopped to look at the only (pretty. too pretty, as well) one you had never seen before.

"_____, it's Chrismtas! Santa Clause will only bring you a lump of coal if you keep cursing like that!" Lisa laughed while she kissed your cheek and made space for you to sit next to her. "Oh, by the way, this is Jimin. A friend of Namjoon. He's a newbie!"

Park Jimin was stunning, you had no trouble admitting that. You weren't blind, you weren't stupid, and you could go as far as theorize that his dark eyes, his light and always immaculate styled hair, his sharp jawline and those plump lips as red as cherries must have been sculpted by Satan himself.

Fuck, you were even sure you'd be on your knees in front of Park Jimin in an alternative universe begging for his dick inside your mouth. But in the universe where you and the real Park Jimin reside, he would never come near you unless somebody was aiming a gun into his skull.

You're not precisely sure what it was, but a brief exchange of glances and an evasive and sligh shake of hands with Park Jimin was enough to make you feel ashamed and withdrawn for the rest of the night.

If Jimin wasn't even able to drop a polite "Nice to meet you", he sure as hell wasn't able to pretend you even existed.

Even the small talk you had tried to engaged with him about his shiny pair of shoes went terribly wrong.

"Oh, are those Dolce and Gabbana?"

"Dolce and Gabbana are homphobic, racist and sexist, so no" the grimace on his face should've been enough to make you regret speaking to him in the first place , but the snarky voice of his made you want to run away and hide from him until next Christmas.

In reality, you swore you didn't care. Seriously. Other's opinions were never something that could easily bother you or keep you awake at night. You had always turned a deaf ear to the cruel children that made fun of you due to your parent's divorce, you had always ignored the amount of men that never considered you "ladylike" enough (what the fuck did that even mean, anyway? what exactly made a lady and what didn't?), and you had always disregarded any envous comment surrounding you.

So, fuck Park Jimin! You had said to yourself. He's just a well mannered rich boy. Somebody who didn't resemble you in any aspect. A stupid, pretentious, spoiled boy who's had everything he's ever wanted in the palm of his hand, unlike you. Who the fuck cares what Park Jimin thinks?

But apparently, you did.

You would have never placed such importance to whatever it was that roamed inside Jimin's head if his appearances in your group of friends hadn't been so recurrent.

Because each time you were forced to see Jimin's face, you were also forced to experience a strange knot of discomfort and humilliation growing in your stomach in his mere presence. It's not like Jimin did anything specific to make you feel that way. He might not even do it on purpose, or his intentions might not be entirely evil. Maybe he simply didn't realize how he always avoided being by your side like the plague, or how his body immediately tensed and he balled his hands into fists everytime you were less than two feet away from him, or how he would look at you from the corner of his eye everytime you decided you speak, almost as if he was waiting for you to shut up to finally let out the air he was containing inside his lungs in relief.

Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

And with time, you couldn't help but attribute that disdain and hostility that Park Jimin always directed at you to the many undeniable differences that constituted each of you. Park Jimin, with his impeccable and always well ironed Prada shirts, his spotless trousers, jewelry that probably costed more than three of your annual salaries, and always emanating that Givenchy fragance that screamed "wealth!" every rare occasion you could experiment his presence next to you. Exactly two years after that first meeting with Park Jimin, you hadn't been able to avoid reciprocating that feeling of contempt towards him. Not when you were the only victim of his arrogance. Everybody loved Park Jimin, and Park Jimin loved everyone.

Except you.

Clinging to your glass of Don Pérignon and finishing the rest of the liquid in one go, you try to snap out of your own thoughts, reminding yourself to return to the conversation you're currently having with Taehyung about a pretty waitress that he's met during one of his art exhibitions (or at least that's what you think you caught him say) and forcing yourself by all means to stop observing the friendly and kind smiles that Park Jimin was shooting to those present from across the room and that you will never be able to achieve.

"_____? Are you even listening to me, darling?" Taehyung's voice is what makes you finally look away from the dumb blond standing on the opposite side of the room, blinking a few times before clearing your throat.

"Sorry, Tae." letting out a sigh, you try to brush back and put in place the strand of hair that escaped the intricate hairdo you had tried and so miserably failed to do yourself to try to fit in and hopefully impress such environment of preppy and privilaged people (ahem, Park Jimin) falling on your forehead as best as you can. "Just been really stressed this week and I'm on another planet. You know how I feel about Christmas. I think I need a new flute of . Or five."

Taehyung sends you a look full of empathy and places one of his hands in your shoulder, squeezing lightly in a comforting way. "I'll get you another one. I'll be right back." You quickly interrupt him though, to prevent him from standing up before you.

"No, really. I'll go. I need some fresh air anyways, if you don't mind." And of course Taehyung doesn't mind, so you get on your feet as graceously as your tipsy state allowed you to (who told you it was a good idea to drink three glasses in less than thirty minutes of the extremely expensive champagne Taehyung had brought to the Christmas party he had organized and why did it convince you it would appease your anxiey?) and make your way towards the table where the rest of the bottles are. A table dangerously close to the conversation Jimin and that friend of Lisa (whose name you don't remember) were having.

Both are with their backs turned and, honestly, you take a silent moment to thank God or whatever is up there because the last thing you need right now is yet another awkward interaction with Jimin, so you try as best as you can to refill your glass of champagne to get out of there as soon as possible, praying to make your exit going unnoticed.

But no. Because the stars and the universe loved to align to make you suffer! They love to play with your karma and they love making you damn that one day you didn't help that lady cross the street. They love making you regret buying those plastic straws. They love making you feel guilty for hacking your neighbour's Wifi when you run out of money to pay for yours. Because the moment you try to take a hold of the bottle in your hands, it slips out of your grasp, and you're watching in slow motion how the sparkling berverage ends up spilling all over the extremely expensive (or so you assume. Balenciaga maybe) suit pants Park Jimin decided to wear that night.

Everything is kind of blurry and you can't even hear anything. You can only watch as Park Jimin turns around, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, until his eyes find you, the bane of his existance and immediately recognizing the culprit of his now drenched piece of clothing. And you can watch as, once again, his gaze turns almost black and narrow lightly as to reprimend you for what you've caused. But of course he doesn't say a word. He has nothing to say. He doesn't even look surprised. No. Because obviously, Park Jimin knew that if there was somebody in this room willing to ruin his night, it would be you, and only you.

"Shit!" you're the first one to break the strained silence, but that only makes Jimin flinch. "Shit, shit, shit. I'm so fucking dumb! J-Jimin, I'm so sorry, let me just go grab a paper tow-"

"Don't." his voice cuts through you. Literally cuts through you. Because it's not often that Park Jimin decides to aim his words at you, but everytime he does it holds the same frigid tone. Like knives trying to painfully stab your being. "Just, don't."

In reality, you don't know a lot of things and you don't know what causes what happens next. You don't know if it's the specific time of the year, you don't know if it's your internal stress, or if it's Park Jimin, his voice, or the fact that he will never like you. But it's instant. They way something compresses your chest, and suddenly your eyes are not glaced by the alcohol but by something wet that threatens to flow. You would never admit to anyone they're tears.

So, shutting your mouth and swallowing the uncomfortable feeling of anguish in your throat, leaving your flute forgotten on the table and grabbing the bottle instead. Without saying a word, your feet start moving up the stairs of the ridiculously enourmous house Taehyung owns towards the first free and empty balcony you can find. Free of people and free of Park Jimin.

Closing the large window behind you, you allow yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath; the icy temperature outside immediately welcoming you. Although the hairs on your arm stand up and you know you're probably going to catch a cold (because the dress you've chosen for the dinner is not at all appropiate for such winter climate), at least the tension in your body seems to disappear while oxygen keeps that ugly feeling in your heart at bay from continuing to choke you.

With shaky hands, you take a big gulp straight from the champagne bottle. Fuck Park Jimin. No man will ever have the power to make you feel what you're feeling right now. Fuck Park Jimin. And fuck his beautiful face and his ability to make you tremble and fear looking like an idiot. Fuck his fancy clothes and his perfect manicured hands and his marvelous but frigthening presence.

Knock knock.

The sound makes you jump back from the window, hand grasping your chest while you turn around, coming face to face with the man in question. Your first instinct is to ignore him. But that thought is already out of the way when it's him the one who struggles with the window lock before opening and taking a step towards you. You step back as he steps in, raising your head up high and puffing your chest. Because your second instinct is to tell Park Jimin to go fuck himself.

"_____, I would like to-"

"You would like to what?" Jimin looks taken aback at your harshness. Alcohol has always been a weapon of mass destruction in your system, provoking words to flow too easily and without filter out of your mouth, more than they already do when you're sober. Especially when it's mixed with the frustration you've been harboring inside of you for two years. That's why when the words start to come out, they won't stop. "To make me feel like shit one more time? To look at me with that fucking conceited face trying to make me feel like you're better than me? Or would you like to ignore me once again as you always do everytime we're in the same fucking room to make sure I know you hate my mere existance, even if it's just the two of us right now?"

The steam leaving your lips due to the accelerated beat of your heart blurs his face for an instant while he looks at you dumbfounded. The silence and his expression makes you scoff, an acidic smile adorning your face while you take another sip of your drink because even with such a stupid face, he still looks delectable with his white shirt and ruined pants. You turn around, removing a tear that you hadn't even realized had fallen during your speech and that, frankly, you were hoping he hadn't either. You would blame it on the cold, anyway.

This time, a gust of wind running through you from head to toe, making you forget of Park Jimin's presence looming behind you, reminding you it's still December and the fabric of your dress is doing nothing to conceal you from the cold.

But before you can do anything about it and blame yourself for being dumb and not taking your coat with you before deciding to step into balcony, Park Jimin surprises you once again, this time by placing his navy blue blazer over the naked skin of your arms.

Your back straightens when you feel his warm breath caressing the back of your neck, at the same time that a voice you have never heard Park Jimin use with you echoes in your ears.

"I really don't hate you, _____. I..." Jimin wets his lips. His body trembles, but it's not due to lacking his own coat, while his brain hurriedly searches for words eloquent and adequate enough to explain voice his thoughts. "I like you very much, _____."

Scoffing again while you shake your head, you push down with all your inner strenght the incipent fluttering of butterflies in your stomach that Jimin has managed to cause in just a matter of seconds. It's probably the longest sentence you've heard from him in two years, and you don't exactly understand why your body is reacting the way it is. But you're also not willing to give Park Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that. He doesn't deserve it anyway. So with all the courage you can muster, you turn around with your hands clenching.

And even though being at such short distance from Jimin is a bit overwhelming and unexpected for you, the irritation still making your blood bubble is enough to not let a man as handsome as him derail you from your current circumstances.

"Well, fuck you Park Jimin. You certainly have a funny fucking way to sh-" his hands cradling your jaw that pull you closer to him and his lips that silent you roughly, but with surprising care. Only for a moment. A moment in which your body betrays you and make you melt into hir warmth. But his voice, low and sinfully husky, murmurs against your lips.

"God, that mouth of yours..." he goes back to attacking your own lips, this time more firm than before, snatching a sigh from you. The sound has his tongue asking for permission into your mouth, and with your body betraying you once again, you part your lips to allow him in. It's him who whimpers this time, while one of his hand moving until it reaches the bottle in your hand and letting it drop carelessly onto the floor, ignoring the sound of glass shattering and the future scolding you'll get from Taehyung. Instead, he sneaks that same hand on your waist, pulling your body flush against his, fingers digging onto your skin. "It's been driving me crazy for two years. Two years, _____."

He mumbles between kisses and swipes his tongue against yours, while he stars walking the both of you until your back meets the nearest concrete wall.

"Two years of having to hear the incessant filthy words that leave your mouth..." his own stop their movements and you catch yourself before begging him to reattaching his lips to yours, enjoying instead the path of wet kisses and bruises his lips traile from your chin to the pulse of your neck "...and trying my best to hide the painful boners I get whenever you're nearby."

With your eyes shut, your hands are back in motion, ignoring the voice in your head reminding you he's still an asshole and finding their way between Jimin's soft golden strands of hair. He hums in appreciation, sending goosebumps all over your body. "So, s-so why not do anything about it sooner?" you say, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe properly.

You feel Jimin's body tensing before you and he ceases the movement of his lips against your neck. Breaking away, your heart stops, afraid you might have ruined the moment. But Jimin's in search of your eyes, eyebrows very lighlty raised, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. You don't know for how long you stare at each other until Jimin comes out of the trance, eyes descending over your flushed cheeks, the very same color as your lips and the soft flesh of your neck until they reach your cleavage, the glimmering fabric encasing your breasts, taunting him the same way they had been doing all night long.

"You scare me so much..." and then, one of his hands repeats the same journey his eyes just did, until he touches your shoulder, right under his own blazer. "Everytime I look at you, all I can think of why the hell a girl as real as you like you would even glance my way." he slides the strap of your dress slowly tentatively, just enough for you to stop his advances if you chose so. You don't. "You're smart in ways I could never compare, so funny it makes me jealous, and so pretty it leaves me speechless. You're...You're everything I'm not."

His voice resonates in the atmosphere, and you would love to blame it on the cold again for how your body has reacted, but your body heat has increased so much since he started kissing you that it would be stupid not to admit that it's just the effect that Park Jimin has on you tonight. You're sure he would've had the same effect if it had happened before.

Your now uncovered breast doesn't even has to suffer the consequences of the icy wind, because one of Jimin's arms quickly comes around you to hold your body against his, lifting you ever so slighty until your erect nipple is at the same level as his mouth and his lips are enveloping it in their warmth. You gasp his name, and that encourages his teeth to tug softly before his tongue stars moving in circes.

"My God, you're so perfect." Your head spins while you hold onto his shoulders as tight as you can, the undeniable heat roaming all over your form, hips involuntarily rutting his incipent erection poking your abdomen. "Been thinking about this since that night we first met." Looking for relief, Jimin mirrors your movements without ceasing the administrations on your chest, as one of his hands lifts one of your thighs to wrap around his waist, closing the short gap remaining between the both of you.

"Ohmygod! F-fuck, Jimin," trying to form coherent phrases is almost impossible, not with Jimin finding a slow and tortuous rythm with his hips, his clothed cock rubbing against your core. Something shifts in the air, because Jimin stops abusing your nipple with a loud pop, and shuts you up by pressing his mouth onto yours in an urgent, dirty and desperate kiss. You could almost hear him swearing, while his hand keeps your jaw in place.

"S-stop talking like that, ______." his voice, inaudible, and his face now hiding in the crook of your neck, the thrusting of his hips speeding up, more and more frantic this time. The hand not holding your thigh against his hipbone reveals your other breast, hand covering it and giving it a light squeeze before tugging at your unattended nipple between his forefinger and his thumb while his tongue and teeth mark the skin on your neck.

"Hell, I've been dying to stuff your mouth with my cock to prevent you from such foul language," the soft whimpers leacving your mouth coax him into taking the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric until his fingers easily find the place in your body calling to him the most through the lace. It's immediate, how his fingers dampen at the first touch, surprising the both of you, and how your body jolts and an embarrassing sob escapes your throat. "How-how are you this wet? Holy hell, I could just slide right in..."

And as he says that, one of his fingers pull aside the fabric of your underwear and glide into you, so easy. You insides burning while he fingers you, another finger being added with his thumb rubbing circles on your nub. And fuck, you're not sure if you're just too horny and Park Jimin is a magician with his hands, or maybe it's the way he keeps mouthing at your chest and whispering how soaked you are, but you don't think you've ever been so close to cumming in such a short period of time.

"W-whats stopping you?" you manage with a voice that doesn't even resembles yours, but before your hands can even make work of the zipper of his trousers, he pulls his finger out from your center, causing you to whine in protest.

Jimin licks his lips, eyebrows framing the dark expression that his eyes ooze. Although the desire in his eyes is more than evident, it is also evident the faint hesitation in them. Because Park Jimin doesn't do things this way. Park Jimin was raised in a world of correct manners and conservationism. A world that has taught him when and how to act. And as badly as he is dying to fuck you against the wall of Taehyung's ridiculously inmense house, he also wants to do the right thing.

"Let me take you on a date."

Park Jimin has been spoiled his whole life. Being born in a well-off family has always provided him of everything he had ever wanted and more. From the innecessary number of toys Santa Claus left under his Christmas tree every year since he was a baby, to his fisrt extravagant sports car at the age of eighteen. Park Jimin has never been a greedy or needy man. How could he, when he's had everything he's ever wished in the palm of his hands. He has never missed anything in his entire life. Hasn't missed a roof over his head, warm food on his plate or brand new designers clothes each week.

It has taken him two years to control himself. He still remembers that night he first met you, just like he remembers every single time you both had coincided in the same place at the same time. He remembered your scent, had memorized your figure over your pieces of clothing and had tried as best as he could to keep a distance from you because he knew you would never give him the time of day. How could you? You probably despised everything he was because he was definitely nothing like you, and that thought intimidated the fuck out of him. He was a mess everytime you wear nearby. Never relied on his voice because he knew he would stutter if you ever spoke to him, could never trust his eyes because if he ever looked at you he was afraid he wouldn't be able to look away.

And everytime you spoke, shit, that voice of yours always cursing here and there left him wondering how would you sound in a different setting and if you would still be that badmouthed. More specifically, between his sheets. So he did everything he could to minimize your interactions as much as possible. He just never thought he would come across as such a jerk. It was never his intention to hurt you, and seeing you cry that night (although you denied you did, over and over again) seriously made him realize he wanted to make things right.

He was trying really, really hard to keep it in his pants, to be the same well composed and controled Park Jimin he had mastered himself to be.

But that damn dress.

After seeing that little black dress hugging your figure when you started taking off your coat at the restaurant, the brief flash of thigh tights that you accidentaly (or not so accidentally) had blessed him with by crossing a leg over the other, that exposed collarbone calling his name and those heeled sandals with straps wrapping around your ankles, reminding him of the snake tempting Eve, Park Jimin was sure he needed to dig into that apple more than anything he has ever needed before.

That's why he surprises you right after you both finish the second course meal by telling the waitress you won't be having desert, at which you look at him somewhat indignant. But the look he shoots you is enough to make you understand if somebody was going to have desert tonight, it would be him. In his Mercedes.

"I'm gonna-" you gasp, fingers tugging at the soft strands of his now ruined blond hair, his head between your thighs and your legs thrown over his shoulders. His hands have a grip of the meaty flesh of your ass, holding you firmly againt his mouth as it works wonders on your clit. You're sure it hasn't even been ten minutes since Jimin had opened your legs in the backseat of his car, not even bothering to take your underwear off, simply moving the fabric aside before diving in, and you already feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm.

"I know." voice vibrating right into your core, he slows down his administrations, tongue carefully and delicately lapping at your folds while he enjoys the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip and fondly brushing his hair back. You meet his eyes as he pushes a finger inside your core and your whole body twists in agony.

"N-no!"

Jimin stops immediately, lifting his head and focusing his concerned eyes on you. He's about to ask you if he's done anything wrong, but you're fast to roughly pull him up by his hair until his face is leveled with yours. You answer him by kissing him and he returns the kiss with the same eagerness, and now it's your hands that are looking for his cock, palming him through his pants.

"Your dick. Inside. Right Now." you punctuate each phrase with a kiss and he only stops kissing you to pout.

"But I wanted you to cum on my tongue." but still, he's putty in your hands when you undo the botton and the zipper. "Wouldn't you rather me fucking you in my bed, where we're more comfortable?" you notice the slight quivering of his voice when you slide his trousers and boxers down, just enough to pull him out.

"You can eat me and fuck me as many times as you want tonight, tomorrow and whenever you'd like, but right now..." none of you contain the moan in unision that leaves each of your mouths when just the head of his lenght comes in contact with your entrance. "I really can't wait anymore." brushing your lips over his, you lower your voice. "Wanna get on my hands and knees for you."

Park Jimin has tried to do things the right and appropiate way throughout all his life. He's been a professional from a very young age on how to be in charge of his emotions, his desires and his impulses. Always well mannered and well composed.

But it's in this moment that Jimin comes to the realization that the only thing that has ever made him lose his mind and self control, is you. Seeing you like this, ass up, grinding your drenched and still thong clad cunt all over his precum dripping lenght, he can't control the way his hand bunches the fabrick of that damn dress over your waist, then flies to your right cheek, a sharp sound of skin filling the air, tearing a gasp from your throat.

"God, I'm-I'm sorry. Couldn't help mys-"

"Do it again."

And he does, the palm of his hand now leaving a reddenning print on your flesh, making you jolt back involuntarily, aligning yourself to the head of his cock and like he had hoped, he slides right in. Not all the way, because Jimin is sure he would cream inside you too soon and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. He wets his lips, clenching his jaw and dropping his palm one more time, hand more steady and purposeful.

"You like it rough?" voice hoarse and a hand beside your head holding himself, your back to his chest, twitching beneath him as he soothes the sting with his free one.

"I like you rough." turning your head slowly to peer at him from the corner of your eye, your hips moving on their own accord trying to take him deeper. Your head is suddenly pulled back harshly, Jimin's fingers tangling in your hair as his own hips close the remaining gap between your bodys in an abrupt thurst. You squeal, Jimin's cock finally filling you up to the hilt just like you wanted him to be, the pleasure making your arms wobble and finding it harder to mantain your balance.

Jimin's breath fawns over your ear, his tongue darting out to suck on your skin sending chills down your spine. "You're such a dream." he groans, torturously sliding out of your core that's gripping around his shaft for dear life. A whine of protest escapes your lips and he tightens the hold on your hair in response, diving right back in. You fall forward, your arms' strenght betraying you as his thrusts find a new rhythm. With your eyes closed shut, you try to muffle the sound of your voice with the back of your hand as Jimin's lips place soft kisses to your exposed shoulder.

"Don't be quiet." he stands straight, the pull on your hair arching your back in such a enticing way it was Jimin look away for a second, cock buried inside of you and his hips faltering. "Been dying to have you like this for so long."

Another clap of his hand against your right cheek, and a particular stroke of his dick that has you mewling as your climax approached again. "S-so good, Jimin. Oh my god."

"You're gonna cum for me?" his fingertips leave bruises on your skin and the windows of his Mercedes are foggy, just like your mind. You can't concentrate on anything that's not Jimin's cock sliding in and out and how much you wished this had happened way sooner. "Gonna cum for me like a good slut?"

Park Jimin always takes his time. Always does things nice and slow to assure the best outcome possible.

But he can't contain the acceleration of his hips against yours as your walls clench impossibly tight around his cock, your orgasm finally taking over . Can't contain himself from falling forward again, hand twisting your head in his direction and his mouth searching for yours in a fiery and messy kiss. And he most definitely can't barely contain himself from cumming when your you ask him to spit in your mouth.

"You're gonna kill me." he breathes, removing himself off you and quickly maneuvering you on your back, his dick finding its way back inside you. Picking up right where he left off, skin slapping against skin in an obscene melody, he collects a considerate amount of saliva in his mouth before dropping it into your welcoming tongue, watching you swallow with a smile he hopes he'll be the only one to see in the future.

And that's what has the last bit of his self restraint slipping from his fingers. He somehow manages to rip the top of your dress down, fabric tearing until your tits are free and his mouth is attacking your nipples, white strings of his release panting your walls, some of it them oozing out that he fucks back right into you.

It's between ragged breaths, kisses and tender carresses that Jimin promises you more dates in the future and new dresses that he can't promise not to savage apart again.

#jimin #park jimin #jimin smut #park jimin smut #bts smut #bts #pjm #pjm smut #bad bunny is retiring like who the fuck does he think he is to decide when he gets to retire???#nah bb WE decide when you retire

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imaginesmai · 4 years

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Arvin Russell - Bad feeling

Requested by an anon, here it goes! I tried my best, hope you like ❤ Third time I post this, I swear I’m gonna burn Tumblr

Plot: Arvin is worried about Lenora, so he goes to you for advice. You don’t get too far before tragedy strikes the Russell house.

Warnings: SPOILERS OF TDATT, IF YOU DON’T THEM STOP READING THE WARNINGS AND THE FIC, that scene of Lenora’s death.

“So it’s just – throwing up? Nothing else?”

Arvin shook his head as he hid his hands in his denim jacket’s pockets. Looking around as if someone would suddenly pop out of the bushes, he confirmed that Lenora was just throwing up and complaining about feeling a bit bad at the stomach. You knew he hoped you could tell him the solution, even if you hadn’t seen the girl since she started feeling sick. No one had, because she had started feeling that way just before church, and Arvin had been the only one talking with her.

With the vague explanation he was giving you, you had a bunch of possibilities. Being the doctor’s daughter had its good things, like you could help as much as your father. You hadn’t gone to school, as your father had home-schooled you since you were four. So it was normal that Arvin had come to you about the problem with his step sister, who was his whole world and happiness.

“I don’t know, Arv. It could be a stomach bug, or maybe she’s coming down with the flu” you gave him a small smile, trying to cheer him up. “From what you’re saying it’s probably nothing, don’t worry”

“Nah, it’s somethin’. She’s been acting all strange lately, and she don’t wanna tell me bout it” Arvin scoffed.

“Maybe she found out what happened with those boys, and is processing it”

A laughing kid passed by running, followed by her older sister and his cousin. Arvin stood quiet until they were far away. He was trying to keep his voice down, because he didn’t want the whole town knowing about Lenora. The small graveyard before starting the Sunday’s mass wasn’t the best place to avoid it, but he couldn’t wait no longer.

“She already knows, it’s not that”

“Arvin” you placed a gentle hand on his chin, meeting his worried eyes. “I’m sure it’s just some teenage drama. Do you want me to visit her after the lecture?”

“Your daddy won’ mind?”

To erase his doubts, you briefly pressed your lips against his, and he finally relaxed. Everyone ran to the church a moment after, the preacher finally appearing. Grabbing his hand, you dragged him with you into the temple, choosing a bench in the end since the one his family had chosen was already full.

You didn’t have to look at him to know that he was over worrying things. Not only because he couldn’t stand the sight of the preacher because of what he did to his grandma, but because it didn’t matter how many times you assured him how Lenora was fine; he would still worry, that was who he was.

Arvin Russell and you met when you were just kids, kids who didn’t have many friends. You were well known for everyone, but couldn’t say a word without stuttering and only your father had enough patience to listen to what you had to say. Arvin was new to Knockemstiff, his parents dead. He was a shy boy too, who only talked with his step sister. After his grandma asked your father for help, he said the boy didn’t have anything wrong; just a huge trauma. So he gave you the task to talk to him and befriend the new boy, who turned out to be as patient as your father.

Since then, it was rare to see you without the other. You had started dating after he dropped out of highschool, and now you were saving for, when the right moment came, moving in together.

During the lecture, Arvin’s hand, trapped between yours, twitched uncomfortable. He shifted on his seat a few times, earning some glances from the surroundings. You tried to whisper him that he didn’t have to worry so much, but he didn’t listen to you; if anything, he seemed ready to run out of the church. He managed to wait until the preacher said you could leave in peace, and even let you say goodbye to your dad.

The good man just smiled at you and told you to be careful, asking if he was meeting you for lunch. Arvin, who was shaking on his feet, shook his head, so you told him you were grabbing something outside. Once in the car, Arvin drove past all the traffic signals in town.

“I hope they don’t have to scrape my body from the road” you chuckled nervously, and Arvin lowered the speed.

“Sorry darlin’. I’m just – ‘ave a bad feeling bout it”

“You know that she’ll grow up some day, right?” you moved from your seat, closer to him. “She’s gonna have kids, and a husband, and you’re gonna have to sit through family dinner without threats”

“Still a long way there”

“Oh, not so long” you tried to pry something from him that wasn’t worry. “Haven’t you seen the soft smile she has been carrying around? Bet she has someone in her head”

“She doesn’t – Lenora ain’t like that” he scoffed, finally driving in an acceptable speed. “She’s… uh, she’s Lenora. She doesn’t –“

“What? Get crushes and think about boys? You know that she’s turning fifteen in two months, right?”

“Not if I don’ think bout it”

The ghost of a smile appeared in Arvin’s face, and you high fived yourself. He always looked beautiful when he genuinely smiled, not in one of those usual frowns that he always carried around. To you, he looked younger and happier, and made a fuzzy feeling appear in the middle of your chest.

“You asked me out when I was fourteen, and one year later –“

“I’m fuckin’ throwin’ you out the road now” he cut you off, sneaking a glance at you. “Lenora is datin’ no boys”

“And does she know or are you planning on scare all of them away?”

“I work fine by scarin’ them ‘way from you”

“But I only have eyes for certain Russell boy. She’s going to be more difficult”

Arvin finally gave you a belly laugh, and the sun shined brighter. You still had a few minutes in the car, which you filled by useless talk. He was insistent in treating you lunch, since you never accepted money for taking care of him or his family. Lunch with Arvin meant he had to work extra harder the next week to recover from whatever it took, but saying no meant him carrying you like a sack of potatoes to the café. You wouldn’t mind not eating anything, just a stroll around the woods with him was enough payment.

The conversation ended when the Russell’s house came into view. You let loose your seatbelt to reach in the back seat for you bag. It had the basics; some aspirins, bandages, alcohol, meds for the headache and the stomach, syringes and a thermometer. Arvin parked while you searched into it for the last object, that seemed to be buried deep down.

“I think I forgot the thermometer. You still have the one from your grandma?”

“You can look for it, I haven’ seen it” Arvin told you as he moved the car around.

“Damn, I hope she isn’t too –“

You didn’t finish your sentence as suddenly the car came into a stop and you were pushed forwards, with the bad luck of having your seatbelt off and slamming your head against the front part of the car. It left a throbbing pain in the middle of your forehead, a nasty bruise and some swelling in a few hours. Because you were too busy with the bag, you didn’t notice what made Arvin stop the car so suddenly.

The barn had its door open, something unusual since there were a few bad people who didn’t have problem in stealing from the humble houses. It let Arvin see what was inside, that turned out to be a bucket upside down. For a moment, he was ready to tell you to stay in the car or run to call for someone, take the gun for his father and search for any intruders. Then, he saw a body hanging from the ceiling and recognized Lenora’s dress.

He ran out of the car before fully stopping it, leaving you cradling your head. Your eyes lost focus for a solid second, everything turning blurry around and a feeling as if you were underwater. It was Arvin’s desperate scream that had you blinking yourself into the present.

“Y/N!”

The pure anguish on his voice made you stumble out of the car, your knees scraping with the rough floor when you couldn’t hold your balance. You held onto the vehicle until you saw what Arvin was screaming about. He had tears running down his cheeks, horrible sobs racking his body, that was shaking under Lenora’s weight.

You managed to get to him without falling again, messing with the end of the rope until it came loose. Lenora came crashing down on Arvin, who fell to the ground as his knees gave out. His whole body was shaking as he tried to sit right, cradling her head.

“Please, please” he cried out. “Lenora, wake up! Lenora!”

Prying the rope from her neck, you already knew the answer. There was a sickening blue bruise around her neck, with hints or purple. She didn’t move when you shifted her head and checked for a pulse.

Your fingers fell on flat skin.

There weren’t a lot of people in the backyard, not even the preacher, who had left shortly after the ceremony. The Russell expected him to stay for a bit longer, seeing the relationship between the young girl and him. He had been the only person who she talked out of her family, and they had been sure he was fond of her too. That came down quickly when he threw into the lecture that suicide was a coward way to go. Uncle Earskell had held Arvin the whole time, preventing him from throwing fists with the preacher; even if the man himself looked close to doing so.

Everyone left eventually, even your father, who had a business to attend. You hadn’t talked with Arvin since his grandma found you with Lenora’s body in the barn, but once your father left and said goodbye to the boy, you were forced to do so. You were dying to go home and lay in bed, sleeping off the throbbing feeling of the gash of your head. But Arvin had giving you a side glance, shy and pleading, and you told your father you would be meeting him later.

While they lowered the coffin, you stayed by Arvin’s side, eventually working your arm through his elbow in an attempt to comfort him. His grandma broke down and his uncle was quick to gather her into his arms, walking away so she could cry in peace. It was then just Arvin and you.

“I’m sorry, Arv” you whispered, rubbing his upper arm.

When your father, who had ran to the barn after being notified by a neighbour, confirmed what you already knew, you felt a crushing guilt it you. Maybe, if you hadn’t been so insistent in comforting Arvin you could have prevented it. Arvin always had a sixth sense to know when something was wrong before it actually happened. And you had ignored it.

“How’s your head?” he asked. You had never heard him sound so small unsure.

“Just a nasty bump and a small concussion. It’ll be healed in a few days”

“I didn’ meant for you to hit your head” Arvin confessed. “I’m so –“

“Hey, I don’t blame you” you turned around and looked up to his eyes. “No one does. What happened wasn’t your fault”

When tears rushed to his eyes you knew he had understood what you meant by it. He trapped you in a bear hug the next second, his whole body hiding between your arms. You shushed him when the first sob appeared, and then they appeared one by another.

Since you had found her in the barn, Arvin hadn’t cried. He had carried his body to the funeral’s parlour, had chosen the coffin when his grandma couldn’t even sit straight, and had put on a stone face through the ceremony. It was hard always being the strong one, to be so weary about everyone and never breaking down. He was glad he had you, so glad it only made him cry harder.

Grandma and his uncle went back to their house just before the sun came down, but you didn’t release Arvin. It was hard to explain how much he loved his sister, because everything he did or thought about was for her security.

“Don’t leave me” Arvin suddenly said, making you go rigid with the express confession. “Please. Don’t – You’re the only thin’ I have left, and I can’t – I… I love you so much, that – “

“I love you too” you finished for him, the last sob breaking through. “And I’m not going anywhere. Not now or ever”

Arvin nodded against your shoulder a few times, interiorizing the words. The rational part of his brain that always worked before things happen, that was mildly drowned by the sorrow, was starting to understand that there was more about Lenora’s death to know that just a suicide. And he promised to himself, right there and then, that no one would ever take away another important person from him, not if he was around.

He wasn’t going to leave you either for as long as you had him.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Tom Holland and Peter Parker Taglist

@delicately-important-trash

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#arvin russell imagine #arvin russelll one shot #arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell fic #tdatt #tdatt imagine #the devil all the time imagine #the devil all the time one shot #the devil all the time fic #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #imaginesmai #imaginemai #request

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soliavenne · 3 years

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A Holiday Episode for The Sand Family: What Would Be Their Perfect Holiday Drink?

Alright ya’ll, this had been a running late holiday episode I was supposed to post a few days ago, but I just got to finish finalizing the recipes and the drawings the other day haha. Either way, here it goes!

Hope you enjoy! :)

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Temari starts off by finely chopping her pre-cooked, roasted and peeled chestnuts. She places the non-stick pan on medium low heat before pouring the chopped chestnuts in it, followed by the whole milk.

She then proceeds to chop the stick of vanilla bean into two pieces, takes 2/3 of it for the drink; with the remaining 1/3 of the stick to be set aside to flavor the whipped cream later. Temari splits the vanilla bean in half, lengthwise, and scrapes out the vanilla pulp inside and stirs it right into the simmering milk. The same step will be done later to the remaining vanilla bean. Temari prefers using vanilla bean instead of vanilla extract, as the vanilla extract contains unnecessary ingredients and tastes weaker compared to the vanilla bean itself.

Temari doesn’t like using ground cinnamon, as it doesn’t dissolve into the drink. To still have the cinnamon flavor, she throws in a small cinnamon stick into the milk.

Knowing from bad experience, Temari doesn’t leave the simmering milk unattended. She diligently scrapes the bottom of the pan every 1-2 minutes with a rubber spatula so it doesn’t form a film of milk solids that could burn if left neglected. She cracks up the heat a little to medium high to bring it to a boil. After so, Temari reduces the heat at the lowest setting to allow it to simmer, still stirring it occasionally for five minutes before taking it off the heat.

Temari likes using bittersweet chocolate instead of cocoa powder, as the butter content of chocolate allows for a richer taste. She chops the chocolate very finely to have it dissolve faster into the hot milk. Since bittersweet chocolate doesn’t taste as sweet, she adds two tablespoons of light brown sugar and stirs it to dissolve. After that, she takes out the cinnamon stick.

Temari prefers to blitz her hot chocolate in her high-speed blender as it allows her clean the counter and wash the utensils for the meantime as it blends. It leaves little to no trace of remaining chestnut pieces and usually results to a very smooth consistency.

After dividing the nutty, hot chocolate into her mugs and Shikamaru’s mug, she stirs in the Bourbon.

Temari prefers to whip her cold, heavy cream to a medium peak with a hand-held mixer alongside 2 tablespoons of confectioner’s sugar and the scraped vanilla bean from the left stick.

She tops off the drink with a healthy amount of sweetened, vanilla whipped cream, roughly chopped roasted walnuts (as expected), and a drizzle of her own chocolate sauce on to finish it off.

Bonus recipe:

Temari prefers homemade to store-bought if it doesn’t take much of her time to do it, one of the things she swaps for a homemade version is chocolate sauce, knowing it’s a one-pot no brainer recipe. So how does she do it?

Temari’s Homemade Chocolate Sauce

1) 1 ½ cups water

2) 1 ½ cups white sugar

3) 1 cup cocoa powder

4) 1 dash salt

5) 1 stick of vanilla bean.

Pour in the water, sugar, cocoa powder and salt into the pan and heat it over low heat. Stir the mixture constantly until it thickens up and comes to a simmer. Take it off the heat and then stir in the scraped vanilla bean. You can serve it warm, or make it in advance and store in a container into the fridge until ready to be served.

---

Kankuro gets cold easily, and he likes to be experimental at times with the food he eats. Hot chocolate with Tequila and a little kick of cayenne? Yep, you got him intrigued. He would certainly give it a shot.

Kankuro usually goes for whole milk, but he decides to go for full cream milk this time to balance off the taste of alcohol and spice perfectly. He does find it resulting to a thicker, decadent hot chocolate, which is something he’s not shy to indulge himself upon.

He prefers to use both parts of milk chocolate and semisweet chocolate. There are times where he opts to not add sugar at all due to the sugars present in his chosen types of chocolate, but if he’s feeling a little kick of a sweet tooth, he would use light brown sugar.

He starts off by finely chopping his chocolates and placing them onto the bowl. Last year, he thought he could chop it at the same time as he allows the milk to boil, but he ended up losing his concentration as he found joy in the sound of chocolate being chopped by his freshly-sharpened knife. The milk boiled over, and the panic had him throwing the chocolate into the scalded milk; with the weight of the chopping board tipping over the pot and resulting to a hot chocolate-less night. Never again. He knew better now. He learns the best after his own mistakes.

To make his favorite hot chocolate, pour in the milk, sugar, salt, ground cinnamon and cayenne pepper into the pot and heat it over medium low. As he only makes this once a year, specifically for the holiday as a sort of little tradition for himself as he dons his holiday sweater, Kankuro is extra mindful to scrape the bottom of the pot until it reaches a gentle boil. He reduces the heat to the lowest setting before pouring in his finely chopped chocolate from his fancy little glass bowl. After stirring it to dissolve, he removes it off the heat and then uses a ladle for extra precaution to transfer it to the mugs.

Stirs in the tequila into the hot chocolate.

Kankuro likes to top it off with a thin layer of store-bought whipped cream. He then sprinkles a small amount of roughly chopped milk chocolate to sweeten the cream, and pinch of cayenne for an interesting contrast.

Note: I forgot to add 1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon powder into the recipe image, but the recipe does call for it! I’m sorry for the error!

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Gaara is not very keen on overly-indulgent, sweet drinks. Already thinking that chocolate is very rich itself, Gaara chooses to use low-fat milk. The lessened percentage of fat from his preferred type of milk is complemented by the butter content that the semisweet chocolate offers. The unsweetened cocoa powder packs in a deep, flavor of strong cocoa minus the fat content. This combination results to a less thicker form of hot chocolate, which Gaara prefers the most. To balance off the bitterness and the acidity, he adds a teaspoon of light brown sugar.

Same old step, Gaara combines the simple, yet the highest of quality products in his non-stick pan. Highest of quality meaning having it exposed less to commercialized practices, as Gaara opts to buy his commodities from Suna’s own, proud farmers as a form of his utmost support. Suna had propositioned to buy additional farmlands from Konohagakure, and their own agriculture business is now thriving for the better.

There are times where he visits the farmers himself, and they are more than happy to welcome their beloved Kazekage with an enormous feast of the freshest of their harvest. Gaara vowed to bring Shinki, Araya, and Yodo next time to introduce this practice he upholds in hopes of passing on the economical and moral importance of supporting their own people and own products to the next generation.

Since it is the holidays after all, he lets himself slide off a just a bit by topping his drink off with his own recipe of espresso whipped cream. It’s fairly simple, he whips the cold heavy whipping cream alongisde a small amount of vanilla bean and a teaspoon of instant espresso powder. It may come off as a surprise that he adds another shot of sugar into this as he wasn’t a person with a sweet tooth at all, but he does find that the molasses flavor of the brown sugar balances the concentrated caffeine flavor of the espresso perfectly.

He then proceeds to counter the sweetness from the brown sugar with a healthy sprinkle of sea salt on top, which Chojuro gave as a gift from the previous Five Kage meeting in hopes advertising it as an international product considering they were the ones who discovered it due to Kirikagure’s being surrounded by large bodies of seawater. It was still a new business, the Mizukage said with a chuckle, but the Kages, including Gaara himself, were intrigued and happy to try it.

---

Shikamaru loves coffee. It was what kept him going from the long, dragged afternoons spent in the office doing paperwork ever since he started working for the Sixth Hokage up to the Seventh Hokage. The holidays doesn’t faze him to try something entirely new, it’s got to have a punch of caffeine in it, no ifs, no buts. Alcohol and chocolate? Sounds great to indulge himself in once in a while, but the taste of coffee needs to roll familiarity in his tongue for him to enjoy it fully; so an alcohol-spiked mocha is the perfect stroke to tickle his spots.

It’s nothing too fancy, set up a kettle to boil water for the coffee later as he heats up the milk for the hot chocolate to a gentle boil on a very low heat so it’s less of a risk to burn in case he forgets to stir it now and then. Once it does, he tosses in the semisweet chocolate chips, as the whole chopping business thing was something he didn’t want to trouble himself with. Once fully melted and combined, he takes it off the heat.

Shikamaru then proceeds to dissolve the instant coffee powder and the light brown in the boiling hot cup of water.

The ratio he goes for is to fill the first 1/3 of the cup with hot chocolate, then other third of it with the fresh cup of hot coffee. He then stirs in the amaretto, and a tops it off with a thin layer of store-bought whipped cream or Temari’s leftover whipped cream if he runs out of the previous choice. A little dusting of sweetened cocoa powder for the taste and the aesthetic.

Enjoys his second round of Amaretto-spiked Mocha the best when Shikadai is already asleep upstairs, leaving him and Temari alone to accompany each other as they sit together in the couch, cuddled and laughing under the warm blanket as they savor the cold holiday night in Konohagakure together.

---

Shikadai would rather have a freezing milkshake than a hot chocolate because he doesn’t like waiting for the hot beverage to cool down as his mother and father had already gulped half of what they’re having.

Cookies and Cream milkshake was one of the specials that they only offered for the special milkshake month in Thunder Burger Restaurant during September. Since there was no way he could order it by the time the holidays arrive, he asked for Chocho and Inojin’s help to devise his own favorite milkshake recipe. Soon enough, he was able to perfect it; as approved by his own teammates, and Temari’s own highest standards.

Shikadai’s prefers to use skim milk, as he had discovered that the presence of egg yolks in his favorite french vanilla ice cream is what makes it creamier and richer than the usual vanilla ice cream. The lack of fat content in skim milk would balance off the french vanilla ice cream’s richness to prevent it from tasting too indulgent.

Shikadai allows the ice cream to soften up a bit to room temperature where it’s just a little melty. After that, he combines the ice cream, cold skim milk, half amount of the scraped vanilla bean, powdered sugar and chopped, seven pieces of oreo cookies into a high speed blender. He turns it off once he sees it is fully-blended.

He likes to drizzle the homemade chocolate sauce that his mother makes onto the milkshake glass, both for taste and aesthetic as a genetic nod to Shikamaru’s mentioned choice with the dusting of cocoa powder. One of his favorite parts in drinking this milkshake is whenever he uses his straw to scoop up the chocolate sauce that dribbled down onto the bottom of the glass.

Prefers to buy store-bought whipped cream to ease his job and just add the remaining half of the scraped vanilla bean to flavor it. He then proceeds to roughly crush 2 oreo cookies and mix it in with the vanilla-flavored whipped cream. After topping his milkshake with it, he likes to garnish it on top with a whole piece of oreo cookie.

---

Shinki’s disciplined behavior renders him uneasy in consuming so many indulgent foods in one night, considering every holiday within the Kazekage’s household had always been a feast. Braised stew and gizzard? Fine, everyone has their weakness, and he might find himself slipping up a little, but with his chosen drink, he would like to tone it down a bit.

Shinki’s health consciousness encourages him to try different healthier alternatives of the popular foods they consume on a daily basis. His latest endeavor was focused on the swelling trend of plant-based milks in the market. He studied the differences between a plant-based milk and regular milk, and he found notable information that he once shared with Gaara over dinner. Gaara smiled at Shinki’s interesting thought, and was now intrigued as well to try it, urging Shinki furthermore to give it a shot.

He went home once, paperbags filled with different cartons of different types of milk. He poured each one of it into small glasses for a taste test. Apart from the difference in the tastes, he also discovered that there were certain milks he thought would pair the best with a specific function. He liked oat milk the best if they are paired with cereal, and the notable creaminess and less nuttier taste of cashew milk paired well with coffee.

Coconut milk was better off for dishes where you naturally expect it to have a “coconutty” taste, since it was distinctly overpowering. Soy milk on the other hand… was an acquired taste for Shinki.

Now that he has the background information as to how it is supposed to taste like, he knew that he would increase its chances of being entirely healthy by making it himself. He wasn’t sure about it at first though, as he would opt to buy it if the recipe calls for professional skills and labor, but once he discovered how easy it was to make by the time he read the recipes Gaara printed for him, he was undeniably excited despite how stoic he looks like on the outside. If you look in close enough, you would see a curt, small smile on his lips.

Out of all the attempts of making almond, oat and cashew milk at home, Shinki found himself favoring cashew milk than the other two. Almond milk required straining it with a nut bag, and tasted prevalently nuttier, oat milk on the other hand ended rather a little slimy. Cashew milk was the easiest, as he didn’t need to do the extra job of straining it, and it resulted to a perfectly creamy milk with with a subtle, nutty note that goes well with his usual go-to drinks, such as coffee and tea. It was his perfect choice.

He might not make it as often as he wants to, but on the holidays, he makes it a day in advance prior to making his reverse whipped coffee.

Shinki pours in the overnight-soaked, softened raw cashews into the high-speed blender, alongside water, Gaara’s favorite sea salt, and the vanilla bean. Shinki likes to use preserved, pitted dates as a sweetener as it also offers another depth of flavor into the milk. He then starts it off by blending in low speed, and then cracking it up to a higher setting until it is fully smooth.

Shinki has his own labeled jar for his homemade cashew milk. To give it another depth of flavor, Shinki likes to throw in two small pieces of cinnamon sticks into the empty jar prior to filling it in with the cashew milk, allowing it to steep the spice’s flavor slowly as it stores in the fridge.

The next night, Shinki starts off by putting in the instant coffee powder, sugar, and hot water into a medium sized bowl. Shinki used to do it on the coffee mug itself, but the found out that it took longer to thicken up due to the lack of air circulation within the small area of the mug. He scrapes the bowl clean using a rubber spatula as he transfers the whipped coffee into his mug.

He then proceeds to heat up his cashew-milk to a gentle boil alongside one piece of cinnamon stick. Shinki leaves the other to steep in further into the left cashew milk. Shinki uses a fine mesh sieve to strain some small pieces of cinnamon from the stick as he would prefer the coffee to be thoroughly smooth.

The aeriated, whipped coffee adds a natural foam on top of the coffee. Shinki doesn’t like to add further garnishes.

Likes to keep it bitter and less sweet because he’s secretly eyeing the dark chocolate cake Gaara only buys during the holidays for later consumption.

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Bonus recipes to try from Araya and Yodo!

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A happy, happy holidays to all of you lovely people! :)

#temari #kankuro #gaara #sand siblings #shikamaru #shikadai #shinki #shikatema #gaara of the desert #suna no gaara #araya #yodo #team shinki

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years

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Chapter 8 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“Oh, hello there Sakura.”

She almost lost her balance when she saw her next customers. Standing beside Kakashi with her arm entangled in his was a brunette, a spitting image of Dr. Aki Nohara, a giveaway that this was her sister. Sakura’s surroundings dimmed out of focus, and her hearing became muffled as if she was submerged underwater.

“Couldn’t mistake that green eyes for anyone,” Kakashi continued. “I’ll have a caramel butterscotch with extra whipped cream – make it super heavy – and Rin –“

“That’s supposed to be my order, you dummy,” the woman replied beside him. He chuckled in fascination and tightened his hold on her arm. “Besides, you don’t like sweets.”

“You’re still on a specialized diet so allow me to eat and drink whatever you want while you stick with – “ Kakashi glanced at Sakura, and she immediately mustered a tight-lipped smile. “One iced americano in your smallest size please. Thanks, Sakura.”

She took in a deep breath, suddenly aware that she wasn’t able to acknowledge her teacher and his companion, but so many things have been running through her head – like how did he know it was her? Why was he with Rin? Did he propose already? She hasn’t even confessed yet.

Somehow, in the dragging silence in her ears, she heard Sasuke cleared his throat. That was enough to break her from the spell, and she put on her bravest mask. “Hi Kakashi-sensei. Nice of you to drop by! I’ll have your order ready in a jiffy.”

Kakashi turned around and waved lazily at Sasuke. “One of my students is here too. Are you on a red eye advance study?”

“Can’t sleep so might as well have caffeine.”

“You’re too young to have this energy.”

Rin jokingly slapped Kakashi on the arm. “You talk as if you’re old already.”

“But aren’t I?” The pair slowly drifted away to find a table, but Sakura noticed the flash of recognition when Rin took a long good look at Sasuke, but her friend stared at them like he was throwing sharp draggers.

“He looks happy,” Sakura noted as she fixed their drinks.

“I want your favorite coffee,” Sasuke quipped out of nowhere.

“There’s a thing called palpitations. It’s caramel macchiato.”

“Might do me some good while I wait for you to finish your shift.”

Sakura sighed, feeling the tiredness come upon her all of a sudden so she relented. “Just take it to-go. I want to get out of here.”

She quickly asked permission from the manager, saying she felt sick and fatigued, and with her clocking overtime in the past few weeks, her request was immediately approved without deductions. The mixed winter and spring air hit her lungs as soon as she stepped outside. Sasuke waited for her across the street, a gesture that implied she could go to him or separate ways right now. As she vied for time to decide, she took one last look through the window.

It was a foreign sight. She has never seen Kakashi’s attention torn apart from his books. Even if he was talking, there would be an open page on his side, stealing glances on passages when the conversations got boring, yet there he was, fully attuned to whatever Rin was saying with no book around him…like she was his favorite book and he enjoyed reading every letter of her.

And Sakura realized she could never be the story he would even want to pick up.

She felt the tears coming so she started her pace on the same road. Across from her, Sasuke got the signal and went the other way.

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

The last term of their second year came like a bazooka. Sakura threw herself on her pet project as a sort of coping mechanism. The announcement was done during the general assembly which did not generate the intended buzz or reaction. After all, it was a tricky topic to handle and many facets of which were still stigmatized when talked openly in public. Naruto, ever the people magnet, broke the agitated atmosphere in the auditorium with a slow clap and was soon joined by many others.

The council created a Google form which allowed students to anonymously register, and they get assigned a schedule on the day their contracted psychiatrist comes to visit. All they had to do was provide their designated client number. The council further complemented this with short programs that serve as mental health breaks for the student body. Sometimes, this would be as light as a block screening of a coming-of-age film or heavy like a conference with faculty and teachers and questions and concerns are remotely flashed.

Then came Valentines’ Day, and the council organized this some kind of literary showcase that presented the opportunity to mingle woes of personal sadness and griefs with confessions that would have been left unsaid. Naruto and Sasuke both helped in constructing the makeshift stage in the middle of the soccer field that would be used later that afternoon.

“Cookie points for my crush,” Naruto grinned as he hammered away. “Thanks for picking the poem I will be reciting tonight, grumpy. Didn’t know you were into literature.” He jokingly elbowed the raven-haired beside him, and he got a death glare in return.

“Do it properly. Look at that nail sticking out like your porcupine hair,” Sasuke grumbled. “And yes, I’m not as uncultured as you are.”

“But I still don’t understand it though.”

“Ugh, just use the internet to search its meaning, idiot.”

“Meanie!”

A fellow runner peeked into their work area and knocked on wood. “Hey Uchiha. Some girl is looking for you.” Her face expressed grimace, having done this for more than five times already within the span of an hour. If it wasn’t Sasuke, it was one of Naruto’s fan girls or boys.

Sasuke went to her and fumbled around for cash in his pocket. “Next time someone looks for us, tell them we went home for the day. Here’s money for your date later. If you have anyway.”

“Whatever grumpy.” The runner replied, still half-angry, half-frustrated, but she took the money all the same and told the girls that ‘They told me to tell you they went home for the day so shoo shoo.’

Naruto laughed at Sasuke’s successful attempt at bribery. “Look at that rich money. I wonder whether Sakura will give us chocolates.”

“Have you seen their office?” Sasuke flipped open the curtains that will be hang as backdrop. “Their desk is filled with chocolates from her admirers – platonically, romantically, whatever. Some people from other schools dropped by too. You got serious competition.”

Naruto chuckled nervously. “As if I do not know that already. Haven’t you told me before- she likes everyone and everyone likes her.”

Not really true at all now, Sasuke thought to himself. But ignorance is bliss, Naruto.

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

The three sat on the grass beside the stage, having full view of the student body listening to the reciters. Throughout the program, Sakura went through each package given to her, visibly stressed with evident signs of sleepless nights under her eyes.

“Before I forget, happy Valentine’s day you two. My council-mates told me you didn’t get any chocolates,” Sakura gave each of them a pouch of small chocolate bars. Sasuke didn’t have to guess if it was store-bought or homemade based on the cuts on her fingers.

“Sakura, stop eating. I almost gagged at the seventh chocolate,” Naruto complained. He tried to get the basket of sweets from her, but she just moved it away from his reach.

“Everything tastes bitter,” she muttered under her breath. “I need sugar. My energy can’t keep up with the countless interviews. I understand that the school board liked the exposure, but the burden falls on me. At least have a teacher back me up?”

“Heard Kakashi-sensei volunteered to accompany you in interviews?” Sasuke was too late in shutting Naruto up, but the most that question got out of Sakura was an eyebrow raise.

“I need more sweets.” She proceeded to jam the rest of the Hershey’s kisses in her mouth.

“Okay, we have a submission from Uzumaki Naruto,” the announcer said. “Shout out to our rookie MVP!” A round of applause. “And who might be the recipient of this poem? We heard through the grapevine that he hid from his admirers all day. I know several people are waiting to confess to him!”

Sasuke instructed him earlier to send the poem anonymously and address it to Sakura, but the dumbass blonde mistakenly exchanged it. He rubbed his forehead in annoyance, but he can’t bring it up right now.

“Just read the poem!” Naruto shouted on the side, clearly embarrassed now. Sakura looked up at him, genuinely curious now, and her sticky chocolate-filled mouth was on the edge of firing him questions.

“Sasuke and I sent in poems! Just to support your program, nothing really too deep into it ehe.” Naruto glanced at Sasuke with slightly widened eyes. “Right, Sasuke?”

“Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare,” the person started.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

Sakura slapped Naruto on the arm. “Didn’t know you read Shakespeare! What a romantic!”

“Isn’t it a tragedy?” Sasuke remarked, a look of disgust in his face when Sakura mindlessly offered him a toblerone. “No sweets for me.”

Sakura guffawed at Sasuke’s remark, and her laughing was a rare sight recently. She was in too deep in her student council functions that they barely see her. And when they did, she’d be a little bit closer to fatigue.

“What’s funny? Who’s Shakespeare? Let me in on the joke!”

“Let’s call on Kakashi-sensei, our very own student council advisor and youngest teacher in the university. He’ll be reciting a poem by Pablo Neruda. A man of culture, we see,” the emcee announced.

Sakura stopped laughing as soon as she heard his name. If Sasuke could glean into her thoughts, she’s probably making up excuses to escape right now.

Kakashi stood in the middle of the stage, holding an open book. “Let me just ramble on here for a bit. Neruda is a Chilean poet and a politician, but just as much as he is a revolutionary, he is a romantic and a worshipper of ideals and ordinary things. He often compared his muses to earth and nature – basic providers of our existence. It’s interesting to see. Now, this poem is what I would have wanted to say to someone who is fundamentally part of my existence, but she won’t listen to me.” Kakashi smiled even more at the onset of outburst of giggles from the students. “So you’re gonna be the audience whether you want it or not.”

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,

your hands the color of a savage harvest,

hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,

I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,

I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,

hunting for you, for your hot heart,

like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

A thundering applause followed Kakashi’s poem and random shouts of, “Drop her name sensei!” “Good luck to your love life!” “Happy for you, sensei!”

As the lights went out on the stage, Sakura fished another pouch from her vest pocket, and Sasuke knew at once that it was Kakashi’s. She popped a bar into her mouth, staring blankly ahead.

“God, it’s so bitter.” Her lips started to quiver, and she started to cry.

Naruto threw a worried glance at Sasuke, but his expression must have given something away because the blonde didn’t prod, and he looked as if all the puzzles fell into place.

Sasuke just didn’t expect to be confronted about it as soon as the program finished. He was carrying blocks of wood to the shed when Naruto dropped the question – a question he already knew the answer to.

“You like Sakura.”

Sasuke inhaled sharply and halted his steps. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stacked the wood against each other and turned to face the blonde. “Besides, shouldn’t you be worrying about exams?”

“What exams? We’re exempted from it,” Naruto bristled.

Sasuke smirked. “No, you’re not. You didn’t qualify for finals.”

“Oh shit.”

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

“What do we get in return?” Sakura asked as she munched on her bento box. Shouts of the practicing dragonboat team filtered through their space.

“But last time you volunteered!” Naruto said.

“We’re friends so my services don’t come free anymore,” she chided back.

Naruto glared at Sasuke. “If she’s not gonna do it, you’re gonna do it.”

Sasuke nonchalantly shook his head as he skimmed through Naruto’s notes. “What she said.” They weren’t notes per se, but doodles of Sasuke and Sakura and interestingly, projections of different batting stances. “I’m also not gonna forgive you with the duck butt hair.”

“But you have a duck butt hair!” Naruto crossed his arms and huffed menacingly. “Ramen?”

“Same old, same old.” Sakura finished her lunch and started to sip her cranberry juice. “Give us something new.”

“Ramen and…..karaoke?”

Sakura brightened up at the prospect. “Deal.”

“At least add snacks to your place,” Sasuke interjected. “And not just ramen. Put some nuts or fruits in your fridge.”

Naruto grumbled but raised two thumbs up in defeat. “Deal.”

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

Sasuke has thin patience when it came to teaching Naruto, Sakura observed. She didn’t know how these two managed to do the supplementary math lessons when she wasn’t a part of their group yet. She didn’t mind teaching, but Naruto’s short attention span was a devil of its own. He would be attentive to her for 15 minutes and then drowse off so Sasuke and her agreed on non-negotiables.

“No ramen break for you if you don’t finish this set of problems,” Sakura told him.

“You’re demon spawns,” Naruto cried out in defiance.

“If you don’t get a passing score on this sample test, no kani toppings for you.” Sasuke raised the stakes.

“Demon spawns,” Naruto repeated.

“You won’t call us demon spawns if you see your name on the list of passers.” Sakura started the stopwatch on her phone. “Now go.”

This took her mind off things, from Kakashi’s public confession to the blank career form hidden within the pages of her history textbook. It was a good distraction until the penultimate exams day. Naruto came in with a bandana on his forehead with FIGHTING written in the middle of it. Sasuke, as usual, breezed through it, already finished by the thirty-minute mark.

And she? Well, she liked exams. The time limit and the pressure allowed her the reprieve to shut the rest of the world out so she relished answering each number until the bell rang. It was a moment where she can focus fully on the paper in front of her, the sound of her pen scribbling, and her mind working full force to cull out the answers in her memory. Her utmost concentration on questions suspended her own questions on her feelings for a teacher, on her parents’ divorce, on her future.

When the school plastered the results on the bulletin board, she couldn’t help but release a satisfied chuckle. She turned to Sasuke who was surprisingly stoic about the results. “First place! The bonus point really helped.”

“Why should I bother with a teacher’s middle name for the bonus question?” Sasuke grumbled back. “Congrats. Stop rubbing it in my face already.”

Naruto was too busy pointing his name on the board and bragging about it to the student body, most especially the freshies. When he found them on the back of the crowd, he rushed to them and placed his arms around their shoulders “Drinks on me!!!!!”

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

“He really shouted drinks on me in the middle of the school, sauntered in here like he’s loaded, and ordered two pitchers of iced tea.” Sakura kept bringing this up since they entered the karaoke room ten minutes ago.

Naruto was preoccupied with inputting song numbers on the machine to respond to Sakura’s banters. “Technically, they’re still drinks!”

Sasuke was on the phone with the kitchen, and from what she could hear, he was ordering almost everything on the menu. When he sat down on the adjacent couch, Sakura leaned forward to him. “Are you gonna finish all of that?”

He jutted his index finger to Naruto. “No, but he will.”

The first notes of Michael Jackson’s Thriller wafted through the room, and the blonde made a quick impression of the artist’s famed moonwalk.

“Why are you opening with that?” Sakura cried out in amusement. “It’s not even Halloween!” Sasuke watched Naruto try to dance with a straight face, but she thought he was itching to face palm the whole time.

Naruto kept beckoning Sakura to join him in the middle of the room, but she was busy laughing at him and taking videos. “I’ll send these to Haru as a pick-me-up. I think this is the best remedy.”

Next was Sakura’s pick – Heaven is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle. She couldn’t contain her laughter in between verses when the two boys finally heard that she was tone deaf. Naruto joined her with the other mic, trying to drown out the off-key notes. By the bridge, Sasuke stood up with them, a glass of juice in his hand, and mouthed the words.

“You know this song!” Sakura said excitedly.

“I don’t live under a rock!” He yelled back amid the loud music.

“OOOH BABY DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT’S WORTH OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH. THEY SAY IN HEAVEN, LOVE COMES FIRST. OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH!”

“Okay who’s next?” she asked when the next number flashed on the screen. Sasuke silently took the mic from her and faced the monitor with a hand in his pants’ pocket.

Naruto gripped the mic harder when the song started. “I’ll be your second voice, grumpy!”

She immediately went to the front and started recording. “One for the road.”

“No videos, Haruno,” Sasuke warned.

“Come on, it’s my remembrance,” she whined. He wasn’t able to clap back when the lines started to move.

“Turn around…” Naruto sang.

“Every now and then, I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming ‘round,” Sasuke’s baritone voice filled the room like an empty coliseum.

“The fuck. You can sing?” Sakura gasped out loud. “How can you have that voice and not sing - like you know, every day?!”’

Sasuke gestured her to stop as he belted, stoic-faced, through the chorus with Naruto singing like a slaughtered pig in the background. Sakura stopped recording and joined them for the rest of the song.

Two hours and three pitchers of orange juice later, they finally settled on the couch and munched on Naruto’s leftovers of fries, buttered chicken, nachos, and calamari. On the karaoke monitor was David Bowie singing Heroes.

“Can’t believe we’re already seniors two months from now.” He stared at the ceiling, his eyes following the tag game of disco lights. “Elections of officers will be tomorrow which means Captain Haru will be formerly stepping down.”

Sasuke reached out and shook his hand. “Good luck next captain.”

Naruto immediately pulled out from his grasp. “What do you mean next captain?”

Sakura chuckled and patted his back as assurance. “Everyone knows it’ll be you. Have you seen how your teammates look at you when you’re discussing strategies?”

In the dimness of the room, she saw the flush on Naruto’s cheeks, and she found it amusing how he cannot take compliments.

Naruto scratched the back of his head. “Well, everything is possible, right? That said, I still haven’t filled out my college form, but I’m really set on getting an athletic scholarship and eventually be part of the national team! How about you grumpy? Changed your mind yet?”

“About what?” Sakura glanced at the silent raven-haired guy beside her. To be able to see this much of him was a nice privilege.

“I’m moving away after high school.” Sasuke fiddled with his half-empty glass, his eyes trained on the slushing juice. “I already sent applications to some universities in Europe.”

“We also have good medicine programs here. I don’t get why you have to move away so far. I’m so bad with converting time zones.”

Sasuke scrunched his nose in annoyance. “Are you dumb? The schools you listed are also out of this district.”

She seemed to be moving farther and farther from their exchange. Like an outsider peeking in, she understood the frailty of the moments in front of her, and by the time the next two months set in, the stopwatch would have started running its last lap. The bonds she has made so serendipitously were in danger of being cut off by dreams. She breathed in, engulfing the noise and scent of this room, panning every color and shape assembled like supercut in her head, praying that someday if she would lose herself, she’d come back here right at this frozen memory and relive the wonderful indecisiveness of adolescence and the chance to say I don’t know without repercussions.

“Sakura to earth?” Naruto’s voice.

“Idiot. It’s earth to Sakura.” Sasuke’s voice.

She blinked fast, returning to the moment that wasn’t finished playing out yet. She quickly brushed her hands on her eyes as if something got into her eyes, hoping they don’t see the small droplets of tears that have formed. “Oh uh, I have a list of prospects, but I’m not quite sure what to take.” The form was still blank actually.

“That’s a usual problem of anyone who’s too good at everything,” Sasuke replied.

“Are you complimenting me?” I wish I was.

“Should I take it back?” He proceeded to gulp down the remnants of his glass.

The monitor suddenly turned off, indicating their time has run out. “Hey guys, for our last term, let’s make the most out of it, all right?” Naruto asked. “I’m so happy we became friends.”

“No hugging please,” Sasuke said, but it was too late. Naruto’s arms were too strong to pull away from so the two allowed him a few seconds of skinship.

Naruto’s words struck a chord in Sakura; it was a resolve she tried to form and disfigure for several months now. Before they could stand up to fix their things, Sakura blurted it out loud before her courage took the best of her.

“For our last term.” She flexed her fingers and curled them up against her palm, placing weight on her lap as she ground her fists onto it. “For our last term, I’m gonna confess to Kakashi.”

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 9

#SCPS #student council president sakura #sasusaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #kakasaku #narusaku #anime fanfic #fanfic #sasusaku fanfic

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: epilogue (OC)

Summary: An early morning, a doctor’s appointment, a new beginning.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: pregnancy (including like… probably incorrect math and science but my degree was in English and this is fanfiction okay)

Word count: 2.7k

a/n: I’m actually so emotional don’t look at me thanks ♥️

Series Masterlist

———

The sound of Spencer’s ringtone pierced through the early morning quiet, shrill and disconsolate. Maggie hummed against his chest, shifting as he clumsily reached across to the bedside table to answer it.

“Hey,” he croaked, voice still smothered in sleep. “Mm... When?” He paused, and she could almost make out the answer on the other end. “Got it. Yeah.”

“Yeah.” He ran light fingers down her arm. “Jet’s taking off in ninety minutes.”

“I don’t wanna go,” he whispered.

“I know.” She pressed a kiss over his heart through his t-shirt. “I know.”

“I’m gonna miss everything,” he lamented. “Appointments, and milestones, and firsts, and I— I’m gonna miss all of it.”

“Yes, it is.” He shook his head. “They're all important.”

She handed him his toothbrush and turned to grab his toiletry go-back from the linen closet, stifling a yawn. “Mmhm. What else?”

“I didn’t know that,” she admitted, turning back to set the bag on the counter. “That’s pretty amazing. What about the heartbeat?”

“Honey.” She stood and held out her hand to him, smiling a little when he accepted it with a squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Maggie made her way back to bed, scooting down under the duvet to preserve the last remaining notes of his body warmth. She watched as he dressed silently, pulling on trousers, socks, a button up and cardigan. He skipped the tie in favor of coming to sit on the bed, bringing his hand to rest lightly over top of her belly over the covers.