#why is it still so nerve racking trying to tell off a teenage boy

[jiiinki]

.

#why is it still so nerve racking trying to tell off a teenage boy #it’s like my childhood nervousness all comes rushing back #my partners sisters friends keep using my shit. like they’ve left my towel scrunched up and wet 2 days in a row?? #like it should be such a nothing thing to bring up #but they’re such shithead kids and i still find them intimidating in so many ways #because i would never have been allowed to get away with the stuff that they do #i’m 26 i should be able to talk to someone half my age without being scared!!!!

[talesofstyles]

Good Morning Indeed

absolutely no plot whatsoever, just a bit of husband and dad harry in the midst of the family’s morning chaos 😂

Harry

“Go get the condom on.”

“I’ll pull out, I promise.”

“Your pull out game is weak.”

“Oi, them’s fightin’ words.”

“There’s a reason we’ve got six kids.” Says the missus with a roll of those pretty—but sometimes deadly (please don’t tell her I said this)—eyes. “‘Sides, I’ve just changed the sheets yesterday. You are not coming on the sodding sheets.”

“Fine,” I sigh and reach down to the bedside table. Why is the drawer filled with sodding Duplo and those tiny, pricey Sylvanian Family bunnies? I’m guessing kid number two, three and four have something to do with that. A few more seconds of rummaging before I finally found my treasure in the very back of the drawer. I lay on my back as I sheath myself up, and seeing as I’m already here… might as well, right? I smirk at her as I say, “hop on then.”

“Fat chance that,” she mutters. “Do I have to take off my top?”

“Nah,” I shake my head, it’s cold, and I’m a considerate husband. “A flash will do. Just give me a visual.”

She rolls up my shirt that she wears to sleep, a really old white rolling stones t-shirt that has two holes and a loose thread hanging on for dear life from the hem. She looks homeless. Gorgeous homeless though. 

“Nice,” I flash her a boyish grin, like a teenage boy seeing his first pair of tits. “You’ve got great racks.”

“You’re just saying that…”

I know what she sees when she looks at herself in the mirror and I wish she could look at herself through my eyes. 

“Hey, don’t you dare. My babies grew in that body, that’s everything.”

Her tender smile hits me right in the gut. “I love you.”

“Love me enough to ride me?” I say with a playful flick to one nipple.

“Nice try.”

“I love you,” I mutter near her mouth and give her a searing kiss. I run my tongue over her bottom lip, then I kiss her down her neck, her cleavage and her breasts. I slowly circle one nipple, and she giggles, knowing it’s a well-rehearsed move that is guaranteed to do what’s needed. See, her tits are kind of like start buttons. No matter the situation, a little attention to those bad boys switches things around real quick. Her head slams back against the pillow. And she moans, holding my head in place.

We’ve got ignition lads. 

I nestle my body on top of hers, and there’s a bit of wayward angling and poking until I find my way inside of her. And then it’s on. Two bodies writhing on the bed. My hips rotate in long, slow circles.

“Bollocks!”

“What? The condom isn’t broken, is it?”

“No, it’s bin day. I forgot to take out the recycling bin.”

“S’fine, we’ve got time before the school run.”

The bin’s sorted, back to the shag…

I slide my hands under her, bringing us closer. Rocking us faster. My forehead hovers close to hers and I open my eyes so I can watch. What can I say? I’m greedy like that. I want to soak up every gasp, every flicker of pleasure across her face. Pleasure I’m giving her.

Her breathing changes. It turns panting and desperate, and I know she’s close. I move harder, grinding against her, inside her, with every forward push. Warms sparks tickle my spine and heat spreads down until every nerve in my body is shaking. I slam inside her, burying deep as her hips jerk upward. She spasms hard around me, gripping me tight. 

I rock back my hips and pull almost all the way out, but then I freeze. Because a dreaded sound echoes across the room, grabbing our full attention. It’s coming from the baby monitor. It’s a rustling, the sound of cotton rubbing cotton. Like snipers in the jungle, we don’t move a muscle. We don’t say a word. We wait, until the rustling stops. And all is quiet again. 

Too bad it’s not for long. Because two thrusts in, a light comes on in the landing. Followed by small footsteps heading down the stairs. Shit.

“Harry, just come already. They’ll all be up soon.”

“I’m close… don’t rush it, you’re scaring it away.” 

She grinds her hips. Also another well-rehearsed move that she knows will get me off. But I freeze again, because there’s a second set of footsteps and the sound of a toilet flushing. Oh, and the babies next door are starting to whimper. 

Great.

“I’M HUNGRY!” That’s James, darling little cockblocker number four who likes to be fed on time. He’s three.

“WE’LL BE OUT IN A SECOND!” My wife shouts over my shoulder. “Harry for the love of god-”

I pick up the rhythm. Small beads of sweat form on my brow. She grinds her hips again, and I try to focus. “Just like that, fuck, keep doing that.”

“Sshh, keep your voice down.”

“IS THERE ANY BREAD THAT ISN’T 50/50?” That’s Eleanor, child number two. She’s seven, and she’s one of those children who seem to possess a discernible palate that knows when we’ve changed brands of baked beans or attempt to bring sugar-free fruit squash through the doors.

“IT’S THE SAME,” I reply.

“NO, IT’S NOT. DO WE HAVE OTHER FOOD?”

“THERE ARE SHREDDIES.”

“DON’T LIKE ‘EM.”

“PORRIDGE.”

“I’M NOT A BEAR!”

Honestly, seven-year-olds gunning for a fight this early in the morning can go do one.

The babies are starting to gather volume next door so I try to focus again. It only takes a few more thrusts before ecstasy wrecks my body, making me shudder. I press my lips against her neck as I come back down to earth. But I don’t move yet. I know we should get going because things are already chaotic outside our door, but I just don’t have the will yet. I’m considering going back to sleep for a minute or two. She won���t mind, will she? Well, I’m wrong. Because she proceeds to perform the move that seems to amuse every sodding woman on earth. And causes every man to squeal like a bloody pig. Without warning, she uses her powerful muscle to squeeze my extremely sensitive cock. 

Girls, grab a piece of paper and write this down. I’m speaking on behalf of every man to walk on earth here; we hate that. We don’t think it’s funny.

I jerk back, pull out, and roll off her. I try to look annoyed as she giggles, and obviously I fail, because that freshly fucked, flushed-face makes it impossible not to grin back.

“CAN I HAVE JAFFA CAKE?” That’s Victoria, child number three. She’s five, and she’s yelling as she thunders up the stairs. 

“JAFFA CAKE ISN’T BREAKFAST,” my wife shouts back as she sits up and hands me a nappy sack. “Harry…”

I wrap up the condom with it and toss it to the bin. “You’ve just taken me life force, woman, give me a moment.”

“CUSTARD CREAM?”

“NO.” We shout in unison. 

“HOBNOB THEN?”

“STAY AWAY FROM THE BISCUIT TIN!”

“You want to wrestle a biscuit-hunting kid out of a cupboard and 50/50 bread drama or fussy babies with full nappies?”

“Babies.” I hear a small child get whacked by a sibling downstairs and I feel like I may have got the better deal here.

Next door, the twins are not happy. They’re six months old now, and they’re both teething. Thing one glares at me as I walk into their nursery and thing two stares at me stroppily from the corner of her cot. Their cheeks are scarlet, and thing one proceeds to bark at me like a seal. I pick his warm, sleepy, cuddly body and cradle it close to mine as I lay him down on the changing table. I smell the dampness. It’s definitely wee. He’s soaked through, I think I didn’t tuck his willy in when I last changed him around three in the morning so it sprayed in some upward motion and drenched his clothes. See, this is why girls are better than boys. There’s no way they can pee upwards. 

After I put a fresh nappy and a change of clothes, I put him down on the rug so he can wiggle around while I grab his sister and sort her out. After six kids, I’m definitely a pro with baby duty and can practically change their clothes one-handed. The whole thing takes only a few minutes.

I cuddle the babies on each side as I walk downstairs and into the kitchen. They immediately reach out to their mum who’s cracking some eggs as soon as they spot her, knowing she’s the only one who can cure their hunger this morning. 

“Uniforms!” She says to the big kids as she takes one baby into her arms. “We’ll do breakfast after. Please, please, please…”

Desperate pleas lead them to saunter out and up the stairs. I follow my wife into the living room and hand her the other baby as she plops down on the couch. She rolls up her shirt and the babies latch instantly. Tandem nursing is harder now that they’re a little older and aware of their surroundings. They’re trying to scratch each other’s faces as they nurse. “Oi, what’s this? You each get a tit, stop fighting.”

They seem to somehow listen to me and have stopped trying to poke each other’s eyeballs. We’ll see how long that lasts. “Finish the eggs?”

I nod. “I’m on it.”

I brew some coffee, finish the scrambled eggs, and pop the slices after slices of bread in the toaster. Breakfast is done just in time as my wife walks back into the kitchen with two full and happy babies. She puts them in their high chairs and I scoop a bit of eggs on each of their trays for them to nibble on.

George appears back in the kitchen clad in his uniform with his also dressed brother trailing behind. We always lay his clothes the night before on his bed and he gets dressed all by himself in the morning. And he’s getting better at it, seeing he only missed a button on his shirt.

“Hi mate,” I say as I fix his button and he flashes a toothy grin at me. I plop him down on the chair, he’s graduated from the high chair now but still uses a booster seat.

“No toast!”

“What do you want then?”

“Chee-yos?”

I nod before I grab a handful of cheerios and set them on his plate next to his eggs. Then I take a few steps back across the table. “Hey, James, set it up.”

He flashes me another toothy grin before he opens his mouth wide and keeps it open. I hold a single Cheerio between my fingers while I bend my knees and bounce my hand as if I were dribbling a basketball. “Three seconds left on the clock, down by one. Styles got the ball. He fakes left, he drives in, he shoots…”

I toss the Cheerios in a high arc. It lands right into his mouth.

“He scores! The crowd goes wild!”

James holds both hands over his head. “Core!”

“Viv stole the biscuit tin, you know? She ate three jammie dodgers upstairs.” Eleanor says as she walks in with book bags and school shoes. 

George, seeing his sister walks in, proceeds to open his mouth wide and flashes her the half-chewed eggs on his tongue. It’s his current thing and it annoys his sisters to death. The young’uns think differently though as they double over in laughter. 

“Eeewww!” She shrieks. “You’re so gross!”

“VICTORIA, PUT THAT BISCUIT TIN DOWN AND GET YOUR BUTT IN THE KITCHEN! AND GO GET THEM HAIR TIE THINGIES…” 

“I didn’t have any biscuits!” She yells and runs down the stairs.

This kid is the quintessential daddy’s girl. She climbs up onto my lap right away, handing me the brush and a hair tie. 

“See, poppet, I would’ve believed you if you didn’t leave evidence all over your face,” I arch one of my eyebrows as I sweep a speck of raspberry jam on the corner of her mouth. 

“You always do a ponytail,” she huffs.

“Either that or I give you a bowl cut with kitchen scissors. I reckon that fruit bowl will do. Your choice.”

“Can I have some more eggs?” George asks with his mouth full of his last bite.

“God, that’s like your third serving,” Eleanor grumbles.

“Nag.”

At that insult, Eleanor flings a piece of toast like a ninja. Before George can retaliate, my wife gives them both the look.

“Viv, will you at least have some eggs?”

“No.”

“Fine,” my wife sighs. “I’m gonna get changed then.”

I glance at the clock and, well, shit, I should get dressed too. “Can you lot watch the babies and try not to kill each other for the next five minutes?”

“Five quid each?” Eleanor tries to negotiate. “Babysitting isn’t supposed to be free, you know? That sounds like child labour to me.” 

Bollocks. 

“Two quid each,” I give her my dad look that says the offer is final and indisputable.

“Deal.”

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #dad harry imagines #dad harry styles #dad!harry #husband!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles one shot #the styles gang

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 38

Sorry for the delay. Real life gets out of hand. But here it is! The antepenultimate chapter.

Shout out to @asongeverlasting for beta reading for me and making sure I actually got this out.

Check her writing out on AO3 as Ramblingwren

(Master post)

(Read the fic in a more condensed on Ao3)

(The latest chapter will be up on there once this reaches over 500 notes on tumblr)

Hope you all enjoy

_____________________________________________________________

“I shouldn’t have let her go out there.”

Fu watched the school nurse, Angela, fret as she paced back and forth.

“I understand your concern, but I believe that it will all be alright. Ladybug and Chat Noir haven’t failed in handling an akuma yet,” he explained. “The girl will be okay.”

The nurse stopped pacing.

“I appreciate your optimism but… I am really not used to this,” She said as she gestured to the air.

Fu blinked at the statement.

“Oh?”

“This! This whole thing! Super villains that appear whenever someone gets sad, teenagers with superpowers! This is all new to me! I just moved to Paris a month ago from the countryside. All I wanted was to further my education and get work in the medical field. It… It boggles my mind that everyone in this city is so okay with all of this! Even my new boyfriend Curtis is able to shrug off an akuma attack like a sudden drizzle. This isn’t normal!”

The guardian could tell the young woman was distressed, and he couldn’t blame her. In a way, he envied her. This was all foreign for her, but to him, this was his entire life.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blow up like that. I've had a lot to deal with, and this whole situation is just so…”

Fu moved to her and helped her sit down.

“It’s alright, this is by no means a good situation. Your concerns are very understandable. I can tell that deep down that your frustration and fear come from compassion and empathy. You will make a wonderful doctor one day.”

She took a deep breath.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much I really needed to hear that today.”

“How about I teach you a medication technique that will help you calm down?”

“Meditation? I'm not really one for that kind of stuff.”

“If one wants to be a doctor, being able to calm down and handle an emergency situation is a must.”

The school nurse agreed that he had a good point, and that this may help get her mind off of things.

“Okay, I guess I'll give it a shot.”

Fu smiled.

“Good. Let us start simple. Close your eyes and put your hands together.”

Angela felt the action was a bit odd but complied.

“Now, take a deep breath. Count to 5 in your head and then breathe out.”

She took her breath and followed the order.

“Whenever you feel a thought come to your head, simply picture yourself putting it out of your mind and into a bucket.”

She tried her best to comply.

As she did this, Fu moved behind her and quickly pinched a nerve on her neck, causing the young woman to seize up for a moment before losing consciousness.

“That will help her relax.”

He carefully moved her to the cot and laid a sheet over her like a blanket.

Once it was clear that she was asleep, a turtle kwami flew out of hiding.

“So, what do we do now, Master?”

Fu took a moment to consider.

His plan was already in motion. Ladybug and Chat Noir had plenty of allies to help fight the akuma. All that needed to be done was to sit down and wait.

But as he thought about it more, he couldn’t help but think that he should go in personally. It was what he'd initially planned to do with akuma, after all. Listening to this young woman’s fears made him really see how his inaction has led to such fear and uncertainty.

For once, it was time for him to go on the offensive.

“Now we head out and find this akuma.”

“Master, you already sent out three miraculous. Let the other heroes handle this,” Wayzz insisted.

“The people of Paris should not have to become used to this. I have been far too lax with this situation. Right now, Ladybug and Chat Noir are facing their most dangerous akuma yet. For decades I have always remained passive in order to avoid making another mistake, but I have already made so many with my inaction. It's time I stop letting my actions be dictated by fear.”

“But Master, you can’t transform! Your body is too old to handle it!”

“Fear not, Wayzz. I have been exercising and restoring my vitality with the techniques of the guardians. By my estimation, I should be able to maintain the transformation without too much issue for 10 minutes,” Fu assured.

“That is not a lot of time, Master!” Wayzz pointed out.

“True, but it is better than nothing. We will head out and wait for the moment we need it. Be ready, Wayzz.”

The old guardian started heading to the door.

“But Master, what if you get captured? What if the akuma does succeed and you are unable to step in?”

Fu paused at the door.

“I know you are concerned for me. I appreciate your care. But I need to go out there. I have lived a long life, Wayzz, far longer than most humans. One day I may not be here to be the guardian.”

Wayzz felt a pang of sorrow hearing his Master talk about how he would no longer be around.

“But that’s okay. I know that when that time comes… I have two young heroes that will be ready to stand up and fight. The best thing an old man like me can do is pave the road for them.” The guardian said with certainty. He went to open the door.

“Fu…”

The old man stopped. Turning around, he saw the turtle kwami he had known for most of his life smile at him.

“I know you think of yourself as a failure of a guardian… but Su Han and the others were wrong. You are a great one. You are the most caring guardian that has ever held the title. And I will be by your side to the end.”

The old man felt his eyes well up at the sweet comment.

“Then let’s go, Partner.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The dragon heroine grabbed the confused snake hero and moved him to the closest room before closing the door.

“Okay we should be safe here,” she said as she looked over to her comrade. It was clear that Viperion was still very confused. It did not help that both his and her miraculous were beeping. They didn't have much time.

“Thanks… ummm,” Viperion started as he tried to rack his brain for a name. Part of him felt like he should know her. But his mind is blank.

“Ryuuko. You can call me Ryuuko. And you are Viperion.”

“Okay… weird name for me, but I guess it works.”

Ryuuko realized that the bubble Viperion had been put in wasn’t just to keep him frozen in place. One of the side effects must have been leaving him without any memory of who he was. Had her partner been aware of that risk when he took the bubble for her? She couldn’t know for sure. But right now, she needed to focus on the task at hand. Shehad to take charge since her partner was out of sorts.

“Okay, 'll try to explain this as quickly as possible.”

“Your real name is Luka. But when you are in your hero form, you go by Viperion.”

“Hero form...”

He looked down.

“Well, that does explain the costumes. I thought it was some sort of weird costume party.”

Ryuuko decided to ignore that.

“Okay, so I'm a hero. And you're one too?”

“Yes. We are both heroes picked by Ladybug to help her fight villains. Right now, we're fighting a bunch of them, and you got your memory wiped by one of their attacks. That’s why you are confused. Any questions?”

The boy took a moment to look himself over and then look at her. This was a lot of information to take in. Ryuuko was half expecting him to call her crazy. Which, given how bizarre the circumstances were, she wouldn’t blame him.

“Okay, I think if it was anyone else telling me this, I would have called it a load of bull. But… I don’t know why but I feel like I can trust you. You sound sincere,” Viperion responded.

“Okay great, now let's…”

“I still have a few questions.”

Ryuuko sighs.

“Look, we really don’t have much time. We need to hurry and get out there to help…”

And just before she finished the statement, both of their transformations wore off. Revealing their civilian forms.

“Oh no.” Kagami muttered in horror.

“What happened? Where am I… What am I?” The snake kwami questioned as he looked at himself.

“It appears that Sass was also impacted by the amnesia.” The dragon kwami that popped out of her necklace commented.

Luka stared wide eyed at the creature.

“Are you a snake?”

“A snake? I suppose?”

“A snake with limbs? That is very rock and roll.”

The two fistbumped. Thankfully they seemed to get along.

Longg looked at them.

“This is quite a predicament.”

“We need to hurry back in. Longg! Bring the….”

“Hold on a moment. Both Sass and I will not be able to do that yet.”

Kagami stopped.

“How come?”

“We need to refuel. The energy of transforming AND using our unique powers drains a lot out of us. We need some food to continue.”

“Food… Okay.”

The snake Kwami grabbed his stomach.

“I find myself rather famished,” he commented.

Luka looked at him.

“Let me see if I can help you out.”

The teen took off the backpack he was wearing to go through it. Thankfully there was a bag lunch in there. For some reason he felt that was important. But decided that if it could help the little guy out, he was sure it wouldn’t be a big deal.

He opened the bag lunch and pulled out a bag of apple slices. Opening it to grab a piece.

“I know snakes usually are carnivores, but how about some fruit?”

“Ooo! It smells divine!”

Luka handed the floating kwami a piece of the apple.

He takes a bite.

“Oh! It's delicious! Juicy and sweet!”

The snake quickly devours the apple piece.

As that happens, Kagami looked through her bag.

“I don’t have fruit but I do have some onigiri. It was my afternoon snack… but since this is a dire situation.”

“Rice? Yes please!” Longg exclaimed as he dive bombed right into the delicious rice ball.

“It’s Umeboshi, it’s not to everyone’s taste but It is one of my favorites.”

“It’s the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. The sour plum really brings a new dimension of flavor.”

Kagami smiled a bit at her kwami companion, happy that she could help.

The two Kwami finished their food and were ready for action.

“Okay, Sass. You need to help Luka transform.”

“Sass? Is that my name?” the snake inquired.

“So, he helps me transform into Viperman?”

“Viperion, and yes,” Kagami responded.

“All you need to do is say. Sass, Scales Slither. And to activate your special power just pull your bracelet back and say second chance. Then pull it back when you want to use it. But be sure not to use it right away,” Longg instructed.

“Okay seems easy enough. Are you okay with this?” Luka asked as he turned his attention to his snake pal.

“The floating horn snake seems fine with it so I say let’s give it a try”

Longg decided for the sake of his friendship with Sass to ignore the comment.

“Alright! Let's do this!” Kagami exclaimed as she prepared to transform.

“One last question.”

Kagami was starting to get antsy. She wanted to be back out there fighting. But she held back her annoyance, considering how he sacrificed his memories for her.

“Make it quick, we need to hurry.”

Luka scratches the back of his head.

“Are we a couple?”

If Kagami was drinking water she would have done a massive spit take. Her cheeks turned red.

“What?!”

“You know… together? You seem to know a lot about me, and I just feel this connection... like I can trust you even though I don’t remember anything. I don’t know how or why, but I feel like you matter to me.”

Kagami’s eyes went wide at the comment. It felt surprisingly bold of the musician to say. She had to admit that the statement made her heart skip a beat.

“No, we had just recently become friends.” Kagami responded.

“Oh…” Luka was saddened by the response.

“But, I have thought about the possibility it could be more than that one day," Kagami continued. "But that is something to discuss when you have your memory back. Maybe.”

The fencer felt her mind scream at her.

‘WHY DID YOU SAY THAT! Well, at least he won't remember.’

Luka smiled at that.

“Well, that must mean I must be a good guy, if I could have such a great friend like you.”

The teen prepared himself.

“Alright then! Sass! Scales Slither.”

The musician shifted into his hero form.

“Let’s go save the day.”

Kagami looked at her hero partner and smiled.

“Longg, Bring the storm.

______________________________________________________________________

“Well, that might be a problem.”

Chat Noir and Ladybug looked to see a stone giant guarding the front door of the classroom. The two had hidden just out of the goliath’s view.

“Any ideas on how to take down Mount Akuma?” Chat Noir questioned.

Ladybug looked at the giant from their hiding spot and began formulating a plan.

“Stoneheart grows bigger when he gets mad. These akuma aren’t really able to express their emotions. That means we don’t need to worry about him getting bigger. We just need to find a way to incapacitate him.”

“We could ask Mayura,” Chat Noir pointed out.

“We could ask… wait WHA…”

Chat Noir covered his partner’s mouth and ducked down.

“Shhhh! She’s right there,” Chat Noir hushed.

Ladybug removed the cat’s hand from her mouth and looked from the spot to see that her partner was right. Mayura was in the building!

“She actually showed up?” Oh, this is a lot more serious than we thought. Hawkmoth is really playing it serious with this one.”

“To the butterfly man’s credit, he really has been throwing out some tough ones.”

“I will not give our worst villain credit for anything except this headache,” Ladybug retorted with annoyance.

“So, what do we do? Mayura is in the building and she is talking with the giant.”

Ladybug felt like the situation couldn’t get worse.

“Not so fast, Feather Freak!”

Ladybug recognized that voice.

“Chloé?”

Chat Noir and Ladybug glanced to see a familiar blonde strutting down the hallway. But their expressions of shock shifted to bewilderment when they noticed what she was wearing.

“So are you and that purple fashion blunder here? Or is it just you? I am guessing it's just you. Your boss doesn’t really like to show his face unless he thinks he is sure to win. No wonder Ladybug always kicks his…” The bee themed heroine confidently quipped.

“Queen Bee. Now that is a surprise. I thought Ladybug was done giving you a miraculous.” The peacock villainess commented. She had no interest in dealing with the bee heroine at this time.

“Well, you would be surprised by a lot of things. So how about we settle this. My fist really misses your face.”

Mayura rolled her eyes.

“Fortunately for you, I don’t have the time to deal with you. Stoneheart, I am sure Masquerade would love for you to take care of this pesky bee.”

“Oh don’t think you can walk away! You and that purple cockroach are the same. Both cowards that can’t even face children.” She jeered as she walked forward.

The stone giant moved forward, allowing Mayura to walk to the door and enter.

“Too scared to face me! Typical. I'll beat your pet rock as a warm up and then your butt will meet my foot!” Queen Bee exclaimed with confidence. “Because I am a real heroine!”

Queen Bee got into a stance and prepared to trade blows with the colossus of rock.

Chat Noir looked to Ladybug.

“Did you give her a miraculous?” He whispered in surprise.

“I don’t have any additional miraculous. I thought she had been captured with the rest of the class.”

“Wait… if it wasn’t you… you don’t think…”

“Either Master Fu is in the building and saw how dire the situation was or Chloé snuck away and had a Queen Bee costume stowed away in her locker.”

The two look at each other and immediately come to the same conclusion.

“We need to save her before she gets crushed!”

______________________________________________________________________

Mayura walked into the classroom.

She managed to keep a straight face, but internally she had a lot going through her mind.

What was once a standard classroom now looked like an elaborate throne room. The amazing curtains, the high ceilings. The steps leading up to an elaborate throne. The portraits of Masquerade really brought together the utter decadence and vanity of the akuma persona. It reminds Mayura of Gabriel’s obsession with Emilie in the worst way possible.

Despite finding the décor off-putting, she had to admit it was impressive how Masquerade had been able to change the room into something completely unrecognizable. A testament to her vanity.

She took a moment to see what akuma servants she still had in the room. The Gamer, Reflekta with around 12 copies, Princess Fragrance, Robostus, Zombizou and Horificator. While the white masks obscured their expressions, it was clear that all of them were watching her. It greatly unnerved her.

She kept these thoughts to herself as the masked akuma that was running the school took notice of her.

“Mayura. I've been expecting you.”

Mayura looked up to see Masquerade sitting on the throne.

“Please, come in.”

She approached confidently. Though in the back of her mind something seemed off.

Masquerade stood up from the throne and walked down the steps, a smile of certainty on her face.

“Masquerade. Your Sentimonster gave me the basics of your plan. Securing the school as your base of operations was a good first step. Your plan of creating a video to lower the spirits of those in Paris was also a nice touch,” Mayura praised.

“But of course! My plan is flawless,” Masquerade boasted. “Not even Ladybug and Chat Noir will be able to stop me.”

“Getting ahead of yourself aren’t you?” Mayura cut her ego trip.

Masquerade’s mood soured as her smile faltered.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You have yet to face the two heroes. Not to mention there's a pesky bee flying around.”

“A bee?” Masquerade was very confused by the comment.

“Yes, Chloé Bourgeois, or Queen Bee, to be precise. Seems that Ladybug and Chat Noir went and got back up."

“It doesn’t matter if they have one additional hero or three. This plan won't fail.”

‘Something isn’t right here. I need to leave now!’ Mayura’s mind screamed.

She wasn’t sure why, but something felt incredibly off.

“Speaking of heroes, your plan never really specified how you will deal with them. Care to elaborate?”

Masquerade’s smile grew more sinister.

“I am glad you asked. After Simularé relayed to me that you were here. I finally figured out the perfect way of dealing with those arrogant heroes,” the masked woman stated with certainty, moving forward.

She now stood only a few feet from the peacock villainess.

“Wait a moment, something is wrong here,” Mayura commented as she tried to focus. She couldn’t ignore the warnings in her head.

“What do you mean?” The mask akuma looked with confusion at the blue villainess.

Mayura looked around. Frantically trying to find something but it was fruitless. This distress caused Masquerade to smile.

“I can't sense it,” Mayura spoke with slight worry.

“Sense what?” Masquerade inquired further.

“Where is your amok? It should be on your person but I can't sense it.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes. If you don’t have the amok in your possession then that sentimonster will go out of control!” Mayura explained.

“Can’t you just rip the amok out?”

“If it's nearby and I sense it, yes. But I can’t do that if it’s out of my range.”

“So you’re saying you have no power over me right now.” A devilish grin appeared on Masquerade’s face.

“No, I am saying I don’t have any power over the senti…”

Mayura felt a chill as she realized that the masquerade in front of her was not an akumatized Lila.

“Horrificator, block the door,” the Faux Masquerade commanded.

The pink and purple monster quickly moved to block the door with her large form.

The controlled akuma started circling around her as Simularé undid the illusion and morphed into its true specter form, Simularé.

“You ungrateful little monster. You think your master will be okay with you attacking one of the ones that gave her power?”

“My master doesn’t care about you or Hawkmoth. You are a means to an end. And she gave me special permission to take your miraculous from you.”

“Well if your master isn’t here, then no one is jamming the signal. I can contact Hawkmoth and put this little coup to an end.”

Simularé shifted into Lady Wifi.

“I have access to every power my master does. You are trapped with no options.” The sentimonster mocked.

Mayura looked around as she was circled by the controlled akuma. She needed to get out of there.

She felt a pain rush to her head.

‘F*** not now’ She mentally cursed.

The odds were indeed not in her favor.

______________________________________________________________________________

Stoneheart began charging at the bee themed heroine, and just as Queen Bee was about to move, a yo-yo wrapped around her waist and pulled her away from the monster.

The stone giant had expected his charge to make contact but forced himself to stop when he noticed the bee was gone.

“Sorry tiny, but I’m your playmate now,” called a cat-themed hero.

The mindless akuma didn’t visibly react to the change in foe and simply charged at the cat hero.

Queen Bee found herself near Ladybug.

“Chloé! What are you doing?!”

“Uh… Saving the day? I got the jewelry box that you sent out because you needed my help.”

“Jewelry box… wait a minute that means. You are wearing a miraculous.”

“Yep! Don’t worry LB, I will show you that I am worthy of being Queen Bee. And not to boast, but I totally saved someone. But right now, we gotta go beat that ugly pile of rubble.”

Ladybug looked at Chloé for a moment. With the situation as hectic as it was, Queen Bee has shown some competence when there is real danger. Ladybug knew that right now, all hands that could help would be appreciated, and Queen Bee’s appearance could mean that Fu may be closer than she expected. So maybe there were more reinforcements. So if this was the case. She would trust Fu’s judgement.

“Alright, just be ready to return the bee after all of this is over.”

“Right, right, but just know I will probably change your mind about that after this is over!” the bee exclaimed confidently as she jumped back into the fray.

Ladybug shook her head. Whether she was Queen Bee or Chloé, she was still a handful.

“Are you finished gossiping? Because I could REALLY use a hand!” Chat Noir shouted as he held his staff up to hold back the rock monster’s boulder of a fist.

Queen Bee and Ladybug jumped into view and noticed the situation.

“Don’t worry you stray cat, The Queen Bee will put that rock in his place. Ve…”

Ladybug covered Queen Bee’s mouth before she could.

“Hold it. We might need your power for later.”

“I think it would be useful now!” Chat Noir shouted as he struggled to hold the weight of the giant’s rocky hand.

“Okay if my powers are a no no right now, what is the plan?”

Ladybug looked around. She found her attention drawn to a fire extinguisher, Queen Bee, a rubber band, and a discarded backpack.

“Okay, I have a plan.”

______________________________________________________________________

Gabriel had made a decision.

He hurried out of the lair in his civilian form. He was going to head to the school. Now he would just need to get his chauffeur and go…

Gabriel’s eyes went wide as he saw his son’s bodyguard and chauffeur fall to the floor at the steps of the main entrance, a white mask adorning his face that he was desperately trying to get off.

“What is the meaning of this?” Gabriel asked aloud in shock and anger.

He looked to see the mask akuma he created standing at the door.

“Well, if it isn’t Gabriel Agreste. Fashion mogul, and master manipulator.”

Gabriel’s visible anger faded as he stared at the akuma.

“Lila, is that you?”

“Oh quite astute! An amazing deduction. Was it that observational skill that made you the fashion success you are now?” the akumatized Lila inquired. “Though I go by Masquerade now.”

Gabriel knew very well the girl’s powers. He was the one that gave it to her. She was trying to antagonize him, get him angry. But that would not work.

“Well Masquerade, what brings you to my home at this time?” Gabriel asked calmly. Doing his best to keep his tone and mannerisms calm.

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood, finding more people to join my little army and I notice my charm glowing as I was getting near.”

Gabriel’s eyes went wide as he realized something. The charm bracelet was configured to locate anyone that has ever been akumatized. That included him. His ploy to ward suspicion off of himself was now biting him in the butt. And of course, Lila was likely holding a grudge with how he pushed her with his words about his son and his classmate.

“My bodyguard was akumatized. What of it?”

The silent action figure enthusiast stopped resisting and his body began growing. Gabriel noticed the man was transforming into the gorilla akuma. Gorizilla! And he rushed up the steps as the akuma moved and pounded his chest.

“Gorizilla, go gather up anyone who has been akumatized that you know of. I will handle Mr. Agreste myself.”

The giant akuma nodded at its master and headed off, leaving the agreste mansion with a giant hole that was once the front of the mansion.

“Handle me? And what do you plan to do?”

Masquerade’s necklace began to glow.

“Oh! Well that is very interesting,” Masquerade mused aloud as she learned from the glowing charm.

“What do you mean, interesting?” Gabriel asked. He knew that the charm had the bonus effect of pointing out the emotional weak points of those that had been akumatized. But he had PRETENDED to be angry and wasn’t actually emotional when the akuma took over. Did the charm still impact him the same way it did everyone else?

Masquerade started walking up the steps.

“You blame yourself for your wife’s passing.”

The statement was a blade pointed right at his throat. But Gabriel refused to react. He would not let himself be taken advantage of by his own akuma. He has been on the receiving end one too many times and he would be damned if he let that psychopath have control of him.

Masquerade saw that Gabriel was not reacting to the statement.

“I have never seen a man more miserable and pathetic,” Masquerade said. Her words sounded genuine and cutting.

Gabriel tried to turn around and walk away. But Masquerade jumped high with her superhuman agility and landed right in front of him, continuing her tearing down of his emotional state.

“All of this wealth and yet you are obsessed with what you don’t have. You are so blinded by the grief of losing your wife that everything else in your life may as well not exist. You locked yourself away, desperately trying to find something, anything that would bring her back. But now you are finding that color is starting to return in your life. You feel guilt over hiding the truth from your son, you loathe the attraction that you have been developing for another woman. You hate that you can’t dedicate every second to your lost wife and any speck of joy you feel without her here feels like treason since she is not here with you. You are a man so blind with his obsession that you fail to see the world doesn’t revolve around you. It's disgusting.”

“You know nothing of my life,” Gabriel dismissed.

But Masquerade knew he would say that. She only smiled. The truth was right in front of her. And she was ready to bring it home.

“You are actually terrified of facing her again.”

That shook Gabriel.

“What?”

“You are afraid of seeing her again. Whether it’s a year or 10 years, you feel that even if you could bring her back, she would be here and realize how much of a shell you had become without her. You are afraid that your obsession with her will be the very thing that drives her away once you see her again.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Then why haven’t you brought her back yet? Don’t you love her?”

Gabriel felt like his heart was being repeatedly punched.

“How dare you question my love for my wife!”

“Then why isn’t she here? If you loved her she wouldn’t have been taken from you and Adrien. But you were far too pathetic to do it. You failed her, and you are still failing her. You will never be with her again, and deep down. You know it to be true,” Masquerade answered coldly.

Those words were enough to get him down. That is what finally did him in.

Gabriel fell to his knees.

“No…”

Gabriel had broken. Masquerade knew she had him.

He was emotionally devastated, to the point where couldn’t even react to the mask coming his way.

____________________________________________________________

Well now things are now hitting their highest points of drama!

Will Ladybug and other heroes be able to stand up to Masquerade?

Will Mayura fall to Simularé's double cross?

Will I EVER update in time?

Tell me your thoughts on the chapter. Your support keeps it alive

#ml #ml fic #ml fanfic #soulmate survey #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfiction #drama #ladynoir #lukagami

[novelconcepts]

fic: (above) a boring little pub

“See where that takes us,” Dani mutters. “Sure. Yeah. Smooth.”

She’d said it like it wasn’t nerve-racking in the least, like she does this sort of thing every day. Get up at the asscrack of dawn, trying to remember how to make a pot of coffee she personally feels out of her mind even considering putting in her own mug. Coffee makes her crazy, spikes her already-wild anxiety straight through the roof; she hasn’t tried to brew the stuff since she was fifteen and making a last-ditch effort to get on Mom’s good side.

And, still, it was the best idea she had for Operation Fix Things With Jamie. Four days laying awake thinking, four days with her brain half on the kids, half on making Jamie smile the next time she turned up at Bly, and this was the best she could do. A cup of coffee that, to her untrained eye, looked like muddy water more than anything else. 

And she had handed it to Jamie. Just pasted on a smile and thought, Maybe the stars have aligned, and I woke up good at this today. Whether good at the coffee or the talking to Jamie, she wasn’t quite sure--but soon enough, it appeared the answer was “neither”. Terrific. Jamie, still stung from the other night. Jamie, clearly still not ready to leap off a cliff just because Dani reached out a hand. 

Who could blame her? Jamie’s maybe the most patient person Dani has ever met, so long as you’re not shredding her gardens behind her back, but she is still a person. A person who has shown Dani an extremely unexpected willingness to listen, but not so much the desire to be jerked around. Dani gets it. There’s nothing she wants less in the world, than to make Jamie feel like a chew toy to be picked up and discarded again on a whim. 

Hence, the world’s most insulting attempt at coffee.

And the invitation.

Dani does not have what a thinking man might call “a strong history” with dating. Part and parcel of being with the same person since you were ten, she supposes, and even if Edmund wasn't...right, he was still simple in his own way. The bravest she ever had to be with Eddie was in daring him to kiss her, a desperate, futile bid toward understanding all the girls at school who sighed and groaned over boys. Dani didn’t get it then, didn’t get it when Eddie closed his eyes and puckered his lips and gave her the most exaggerated dry kiss a human mouth can produce. Didn't get it, either, as he improved over the years, though she was tactically aware of him doing so. On a strictly data-driven level, she watched him get better at kissing, at smiling without nerves, at leading her by the hand wherever he felt they should go. And never, not once, did she feel it.

But one night in a greenhouse, wine in her blood and guilt on her lips, and she gets it now. She gets all of it. Jamie’s hands in her hair, Jamie’s mouth opening beneath her own--a symphony only they could hear. 

And then she’d gone and ruined it. 

So, now she’s here. Standing awkwardly in a small room in a huge manor, poking through the approximately ten outfits she’s been carting across Europe for half a year. She’d been brave with Jamie in ways she’d never considered with Eddie--brave to take her hand, brave to follow her into the dark, brave to kiss her, brave to ask her out on a...on a..

“Date,” she mutters, holding up a pink blouse and remembering Jamie saying wryly, There we are. She shuts her eyes. “Just a date. Normal person thing to do. Nothing to worry about.”

Jamie’s meant to be back here in--she flips her wrist, winces--less than an hour now. Jamie’s meant to be here to pick her up, like they’re teenagers heading off for a Friday night on the town, and Dani must genuinely be losing her mind. She didn't come here for this. She works with Jamie, works here watching the kids, and if she leaves...if she leaves, who knows what will...

A light rap at the door, so soft, she almost misses it. Hannah, gently smiling. 

“Everything all right up here? Haven’t seen you in quite some time...”

“The kids,” Dani interjects. “Of course. I’m so sorry, I’ll just--”

Hannah raises her palms in a placating gestures, slipping into the room with a nearly unearthly grace. Why, Dani wonders helplessly, can’t I be like Hannah? So elegant and serene and sure of every step? 

“I did not,” Hannah says, taking her by the shoulders and giving her a sisterly little shake, “come up here to scold you. The children are perfectly fine; Owen is running them through the finer elements of...” Her brow creases, some mix of affection and distaste. “Baking chemistry.”

“Oh.” Dani sinks onto the bed, head in her hands. “Of course. So you’re...”

“Here to make certain you aren’t, perhaps, talking yourself out of a nice evening out on the town?” Hannah supplies. She’s too kind to make fun, at least where this level of anxiety is concerned, and Dani is grateful. 

“Not talking myself out, exactly,” she says. “Just trying to decide what to wear. I mean, what does a person wear to a pub in Bly with...with...”

“A perfectly charming young woman whose primary uniform involves denim and potting soil?” Hannah’s voice is just a little too innocent. Dani grins. 

“I just don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“I don’t think,” Hannah says carefully, “there’s much chance of embarrassing yourself so badly, she leaves you alone in that pub. Or fails to return to Bly, perhaps, tomorrow?”

Color floods Dani’s cheeks. Her choice of sweater is suddenly the most interesting thing that has ever happened in this room. 

“The children will be just fine with us here,” Hannah continues, blessedly ignoring the way Dani’s shoulders go rigid with mortification. “Owen’s already planning to stay, and you know how Flora goes on about sleepovers...”

She’s smiling, but Dani thinks there’s a bit of distance behind her eyes that wasn’t there last week. A beautiful, kind woman, Hannah; it’s strange to see her even the least bit detached from the goings-on of the house. 

“You’re sure,” she presses. “I could still tell Jamie--”

“You could both use the night off, I think.” Hannah pats her shoulder lightly. Dani bites her lip. 

“Well, I can definitely make sure I’m back before--”

“Lunch tomorrow?” Hannah interjects. “Yes, I quite agree, that would be perfect timing. Rumor has it Owen’s planning a feast fit for kings and very small children.”

Dani is out of arguments, and she suspects Hannah knows it. Her shoulders slump. “Okay. Okay, good. Glad that’s all...handled. Now...”

“This one, I think.” Hannah pats the light purple, her hand possessed of such surety, Dani is briefly envious. “Brings out your eyes nicely.”

She makes her escape with another smile and a very small wave, and Dani gives herself a minute. Just one minute, sitting on the edge of the bed with her face in her hands, to really process the situation. A date. An actual real date with an actual real person she actually likes. Not just likes, but feels...slightly insane around. Insane in the best way. Stomach in knots, fingertips sweaty for no good reason, ears going hot at the sight of her insane. 

Jamie kissed her back. Jamie kissed her like there was nothing she’d like more in the world. Jamie kissed her, and then let her go the minute she didn’t seem ready for it, and even with the worst coffee in England as a peace offering, accepted the idea of a drink with her. 

Which means...

“The sweater doesn’t matter,” Dani mumbles, feeling very much as though nothing has ever mattered more.

***

Jamie has never quite done this before, either; she thinks of telling Dani so, thinks of taking a quiet moment before leaving Bly Manor to get ready for a date and come back, sweet Lord, she must be out of her mind, to say, “Hey, no worries, Poppins, this is brand-new territory for the both of us.”

But Dani is busy with the kids, and also sort of looks like she’s going to combust should Jamie stand too near her, so she skulks out to the truck alone instead. The date--it is an actual fucking date, I cannot believe she did this to us, what am I going to do on an actual fucking date with this woman?--is slated for seven in the evening. Jamie’s done working at four-thirty.

She spends about an hour of that in-between time showering, picking out a clean t-shirt--nothing too snappy, don’t want to scare Poppins off again--and jeans and a jacket that ensures she’ll look presentably-cool, and mussing her hair somewhat badly. The rest, she spends pacing. 

You know I live above that pub, right? Told you that already. And Jesus, how Dani had smiled, like she’d been thinking of nothing else for four fucking days. Four days Jamie had spent planning ways to distance herself, to stop feeling all of this flappy butterfly nonsense at the mere sight of the woman, and the first thing--first goddamn thing--Dani did upon her return was ask her on a date. 

To which she had...said yes. She’d said yes, and now off she goes to pick up her actual, real-live human woman date.

It’s one thing, she thinks as she strides up the drive to the door, to take a woman to bed. It’s a very natural, easy thing, in fact, to take a woman to bed. Strip off your clothes, strip off your inhibitions, get used to the notion of never seeing her again once the sun is up. But this? Dani? Jamie’s never been here before. Never wanted something so badly before. 

“Don’t,” she mumbles, pushing the door open, “fuck this up.”

She expects to have to go on a bit of a hunt to track Dani down--maybe to the kitchen, or even (heaven help her) up to her room, but no: Dani is right there. Dani is standing in the foyer in a black skirt and loose-knit sweater, looking for all the world like Jamie just caught her running a trench into the floorboards. 

“Hi,” she says, all deer eyes and suddenly grinning mouth. Her hair is up, so very blonde and perfect, Jamie’s mouth goes a little useless at the sight of it.

“Hey. Uh. Are we meant to be speaking with the chaperones, or...”

Dani shakes her head, looking just a little punch-drunk. “Hannah made it sound like we’d be in trouble if we went back there. Owen’s doing something with chemistry?”

“All the angels couldn’t help those kids and their empty bellies now,” Jamie says, “if Owen is fixated on another goddamn chemistry lesson.”

Dani laughs, and suddenly, it’s like a sheen of ice cracks open and all the warmth she’s come to associate with Dani Clayton comes rushing into the room. Jamie reaches out a hand, slides palm along palm until Dani is fitted neatly against her lifeline. 

“Shall we?”

She doesn’t say, I’ve never done this. Doesn’t tell Dani any of that. It doesn’t seem important, all of a sudden, not with the way Dani squeezes back and follows eagerly into the passenger seat of her truck.

Jamie, looking at her out of the corner of her eye as she prepares to back out, is struck with the wild idea that maybe they don’t have to leave at all to do this. She could just reach across the seat, lay a hand lightly over Dani’s knee, tell her she’s never met anyone like her. Never met anyone who makes her want to tell sad stories and bad jokes and goodnights that are only acceptable because there will be a good morning to follow. 

Date, she reminds herself firmly, though there’s a perfectly nice kitchen, a perfectly nice bedroom, a perfectly nice hidden spot out on the grounds that would do the job just as well. Maybe next time. There are flowers she’s certain Dani can’t go her whole life without seeing. 

But tonight: it’s a pub in the tiny village of Bly, where Jamie has lived for years without ever really caring to get to know its secrets. Now, watching Dani look around like she’s just stepped into Oz, she sort of regrets that. 

“Usually not too busy on a Thursday night,” she says, guiding Dani with a light hand at the small of her back past what she thinks of as the Attention Grabbing section--the tables up near the bar proper, where the denizens of Bly most like to congregate after work--and toward her own preferred spot. It’s in the back, near a near-secret exit that leads straight up to her flat, and Cal is charitable enough to keep most folks away from it unless the place is full-up. Not a bad guy, Cal; he’s about four hundred years old and insists on calling her Janey, but he’s still got the back for long nights serving bad drinks, and he keeps the rent cheaper than dirt. 

“You live here?” Dani sounds like she’s never been more delighted at a prospect. Jamie can’t help but laugh, slinging her jacket over the back of her chair and settling in. 

“Thought about asking for a job when I moved in, but luckily Lord and Lady Wingrave got to me first. Not sure it’d suit me, spending every night with the town layabouts.”

She winks at Cal as he shambles past to let him know this is a joke. He snorts. 

“Like I’d hire you anyway. Too damn short. Couldn't reach the good stuff.”

“Wasn’t aware you carried the good stuff,” she fires back. Dani, watching this exchange with delight, laughs. Cal raises an eyebrow. 

“Your friend’s pretty. Poor sense of character, to be spending her night with a felon, but there’s no accounting for taste.”

The smile on Dani’s lips dies instantly. Jamie swallows a curse. 

“Yes, thank you, Grandfather Drunkard, I hadn’t quite gotten to that part of the tale yet. Round to make up for it, if you please.”

He has the good grace to look slightly ashamed, patting her on the shoulder as he winds back to the bar in search of clean glasses. Jamie leans back with a sigh.

“Well, it was bound to come up eventually, I suppose. Frankly, probably for the best he spilled those beans before I could lose my nerve and put off telling you.”

Dani’s brow is creased, less like someone horrified by a glimpse into Jamie’s storied past, more like a white knight ready to draw a sword in her defense. Jamie finds herself reaching across the table, glancing over her shoulder, and touching the back of her hand with two cautious fingers. 

“Easy, Poppins, Cal’s a good sort. Our sort, even, if there is such a thing.” It’s a bold stroke, a shot in the dark, but given that Jamie’s already had this woman’s tongue in her mouth, she supposes it isn’t so dangerous to assume. Dani raises her eyebrows high enough to make her laugh.

“He’s--I mean he doesn’t--”

“He’s kind, and he knows the value of a closed mouth,” Jamie confirms. “Says things are better than they used to be around here, but there’s no point courting trouble. Anyway, he won’t say a damn thing when we--if we--”

Cal takes pity on her, delivering a pair of beers and a platter of cold chips, “on the house, as penance for fuckin’ up your evening.” Jamie raises her glass in a salute to his retreating back.

“Did he?” Dani asks. Jamie, glass halfway to her lips, pauses.

“Did he what?”

“Fuck up the evening.” Jamie’s not sure she’s ever heard Dani say the word fuck before, and suddenly feels as though it’s the best single syllable ever to cross her lips. 

“Nah. Not unless you’ve, ah, got a problem with felons sharing your table?”

Lifting her own glass, Dani shakes her head. “Not as a rule. I’d like to hear about it, though. If it’s something you’re all right sharing.”

And so Jamie shares. All of it. It isn’t the plan, exactly, but when she gets started, she finds it increasingly difficult to locate a logical place to stop. To explain the prison time, she first has to explain how a young woman finds herself in such a situation; to explain that, she first has to paint a picture of a particular kind of home life. Before she knows what’s happening, she’s leaning across the table and saying names she hasn’t spoken in years. Telling about the coal mine. The other men. The baby. The burn. 

Dani listens to it all, enraptured, never interrupting with so much as a question. She makes small noises, nods encouragement whenever Jamie falters, takes small sips of her drink when Jamie pauses for breath. 

She doesn’t ask what Jamie did. This, above all else, strikes Jamie between the eyes. She doesn’t ask if Jamie lied, or cheated, or stole, or bloodied anyone along the way (yes, yes to one and all, and if she did ask, Jamie would tell her; they're old scars, the life of someone she feels she barely knows now, and if she’s ashamed, it’s the shame of a distant dream). She only listens, nods, takes it in.

“I figure,” Jamie says when she’s run out of history to unfold between them, “you showed me yours, yeah? It’s only fair.”

Dani raises her glass. “To not being defined by the sins of the past.”

Jamie chuckles, obediently following suit. “To people being the most goddamn exhausting concept on the planet, and trying anyway.”

They drink. They drink, and Jamie thinks, Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’ve exhausted the conversation topics for one relationship already. Maybe she’ll finish this glass and we’ll head back to the house, and that’ll be that. 

“I’ve never done this before,” Dani tells her. There’s something relaxed about her, something Jamie finds new and deeply interesting. Relaxed is the last word she’d generally used to describe Dani Clayton. 

Jamie gestures for Cal, refills following suit in short order. “Been to a pub?”

“Been on a date with someone I...” Dani hesitates. For a split second, Jamie’s sure she’s about to look at someone Jamie can’t sense over her shoulder. Instead, she shakes her head, smiles ruefully. “Someone I felt things for.”

“Things, huh?” She leans across the table, props her chin on one hand, makes a show of tilting her head. “What sorts of things?”

“I think you know.” Dani is blushing. This is maybe the best night of Jamie’s whole life.

“Think you should tell me anyway.”

Dani swats at her, and they’re both laughing with an ease Jamie can’t wrap her head around. It’s one thing to flirt; Jamie’s good at flirting. Comes easy, comes naturally. She’s good at watching for the little buttons in people, the little signs of what makes them laugh, what makes them squirm. Promised herself a long time ago never to use this power for anything less than leaving a room warmer than she found it. 

But this isn’t flirting. Not the way Jamie’s done it before. This is something entirely new, entirely specific to Dani. It’s in the way Dani watches her, eyes too blue, jaw held taut like she’s trying to keep something dangerous from spilling out. It’s in the way Dani lets her fingers linger when she reaches for a chip, allows Jamie to brush against her in a fashion that looks utterly innocent from the outside and feels anything but. 

Jamie swallows hard, liking the weight of Dani’s gaze more than she’s prepared to admit. Liking the way Dani very slowly, very carefully, moves a hand under the table to press against her knee. 

“Bold, Poppins,” she breathes. Dani smiles, so clearly proud of herself and so clearly terrified that it’s all Jamie can do not to lean all the way across and kiss her. 

Best not. Cal’s a good man, their sort, but there are others in the pub now. People who wouldn't take kindly to a sight like that. And this night is going far too well for Jamie to waste where it’s going on a bar brawl.

***

Jamie’s flat is nothing like Dani expected. Admittedly, she isn’t sure what to expect when Jamie drains the last of her glass and gives a knowing glance to the exit. A very small part of her thinks this is all going entirely too well--her hand has been under the table, pressed with a confidence she hadn’t known she possessed to Jamie’s knee, for almost fifteen minutes. Even as her thumb traces small circles into the denim, even as Jamie’s eyes go a little darker, her lips parting in a way Dani finds entirely too interesting, she thinks, This isn’t me, is it? She can’t be feeling it, too. No one has ever understood this. 

Even so, here’s Jamie, standing a little too quickly. Her chair scrapes back, her jacket swung over her arm, and she’s reaching out. Dani accepts the hand, lets Jamie pull her to her feet. A good idea. A bad idea. The kind of idea that will get them out of the public eye in short order, either way, and Dani can’t think of anything wiser in this moment. 

There’s a set of stairs just outside the door, leading up to a second door. Thick brown wood, with double locks Jamie works without really looking. She’s staring at Dani even as her hands move, staring from inches away, and Dani suddenly thinks how good it is, that they came out tonight. How good it is to be away from the house, the kids, anyone else in the world. 

“After you,” Jamie says, pushing the door open with a flat hand and gesturing for Dani to enter. Her voice is a little raw, a little huskier than usual. Dani moves past her, arm brushing arm, and just about jumps out of her skin at the contact. 

The space is small, sparsely furnished, with a curtain hung to break up the room. In one far corner, a tiny bathroom. In the closest corner, a tiny kitchen, barely broken from the living space by a change in flooring. 

Jamie, wearing an expression Dani has not yet learned to decipher, says, “This would be it. The castle, as it were.”

Does she sound embarrassed? Dani can't quite tell. She wants to say there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, this place is small and quiet and somehow perfectly Jamie in its easy nature. There are books, though not many, on a small shelf. There are plants, considerably more, lined up like soldiers guarding Jamie from loneliness. 

“It’s a place to lay my head, anyway,” Jamie says, and that is definitely a touch of embarrassment in her voice. Dani shakes her head, moves to join her at the front door, takes her hand. 

“It’s yours,” she says, unable to clarify quite why that is so special. “Thank you. For bringing me here.”

It sounds better in her head than it does ringing between them in a space so silent, Dani imagines she can hear the echo of her own voice. Jamie is just looking at her, the way she’d looked the night Owen’s mother passed, like if Dani were to give the word, she’d make a move that would light them both aflame. 

She’d been too afraid that night. Was carrying far too much. Even the simple act of touching Jamie at all, of running her thumb across Jamie’s hand, had felt like heroism. 

Now, things are different. 

She’s got Jamie by the sleeves, hands gripping Jamie’s t-shirt just above the skin of her biceps, and this is what going over feels like. This is what it feels like, Dani thinks, to just let go. 

***

Kissing Dani is different here. Back in the greenhouse, Dani had been largely somebody else, Jamie thinks; still Dani, but a version carrying too much on her back. A desperate, hopeful, sorrow-laden Dani who had grabbed at her jacket like it was a life preserver. 

This Dani, sighing and squeezing her arms, feels like freedom. 

Jamie finds herself spinning them both, pressing Dani against the locked door, liking the convulsive way Dani’s hands fist around her shirt sleeves. Liking the way Dani slides one arm around her neck and leans back just a little, just enough to gaze into Jamie’s eyes, and this is almost too much all on its own. No one has ever looked at Jamie while she was trying to kiss them. No one, not even once, has looked at her with such profound affection.

And want. So much want, Dani’s eyes are stormy with it. Jamie’s grinning, but there’s a fist around her heart squeezing so hard, she worries it might burst. 

“All right?” she breathes. Dani could say no. Dani could say no at any time, and Jamie would understand it. Would lean back, comb her fingers through her own hair, offer the bed while she sets up on the couch until the alcohol’s out of both of their systems and the sunrise gives them another chance at it. 

Dani, rather than answering, makes a low sound at the back of her throat and finds Jamie’s mouth with an eager, open kiss that sends Jamie’s pulse through the roof. 

She hasn’t done this before, she’s told Jamie, but she’s coming to it naturally enough. Her lips are soft, parting for Jamie’s tongue, her hips pushing against Jamie’s body in slow, easy motions. When Jamie rakes her nails down her scalp, fingers pulling the scrunchie from her hair, she responds with such a low groan, Jamie has to bury her face in Dani’s neck for a moment to breathe. 

“Sorry,” Dani mumbles. Jamie, shaking her head, laughs against her skin. 

“In no universe, Poppins, are you to be sorry right now. About anything.”

She raises her head, looking for signs that Dani is sorry in a more important way, a way that will say stop, back up, let this go for now. Dani takes her face between trembling hands. Kisses her slowly, sweetly, tongue tracing Jamie’s lower lip like the only thing in the world is to memorize her in tiny, hopeful doses. 

Jamie sighs, one hand buried in blonde hair, the other finding purchase on the sleeve of a too soft, too tearable sweater. She feels too large for her body all of a sudden, too much adrenaline coursing through her system, and every time Dani turns her head just a little, every time she brushes her nose against Jamie’s and makes that tiny, soul-searing little sound under Jamie’s kiss, she thinks she gets a bit closer to plunging off the edge into something she won’t be able to forget about in the morning. 

“You sure?” she asks against Dani’s lips, the words lost when Dani moves an arm around her neck and digs her fingers in hard. She can feel Dani nodding, breathless, and it’s enough. More than enough. Jamie finds she’s walking them backwards, navigating carefully around her small table, her small couch, the shelf upon which she keeps a few precious plants. 

With every step, Dani is kissing her. 

With every step, Dani is tracing shapes into the back of her neck.

With every step, Dani is pushing in close, like if Jamie breaks for even a second, some beautiful, perfect spell will break with her. 

They’re past the curtain now, in the little space where Jamie sleeps and wakes and hasn’t taken anyone since moving in. Dani, forehead pressed against hers, lips swollen, opens her eyes. 

“This is--”

“Not much,” Jamie says. On the one hand, she’s glad they came out tonight, glad she’s getting to hear all the little sounds Dani makes as she’s kissed without worrying about eavesdroppers. On the other, there’s nothing inspiring about her flat, nothing to say Jamie can take care of someone. It’s just walls. Just walls and a couple of plants, and for some reason, Dani is looking around like they’ve walked through a mirror into a land of magic. 

“Anyway,” Jamie says. “We don’t have to--if you don’t want to--”

***

“Don’t you?” Dani’s heart is in her throat, pounding in her wrists almost painfully hard. Jamie, one arm around her waist, leaning back with flushed cheeks and her bottom lip between her teeth, raises her eyebrows. 

“Want to? God, yes.”

Relief, flooding Dani’s body almost hard enough to knock her over. She grips at Jamie with both hands, the slide of dark t-shirt soft under her fingers, and kisses her again. She feels so good kissing Jamie, so good she forgets how nervous she is about the whole thing. Jamie, her hand strong at the small of her back, her fingers brushing just under the hem of her sweater, leans back again. 

“Just don’t want to pressure you into anything. S’all right if you’re not up for--”

"I’ll tell you,” Dani promises. If Jamie keeps doing that with her hand, if Jamie keeps tracing the base of her spine with small, reckless movements, she thinks she’ll go crazy. “If it’s too much. I’ll tell you.”

She pushes gently against Jamie’s chest, feeling bold and brave and absolutely petrified of her own actions, and Jamie lets herself fold backwards until she’s seated on the edge of a thin, clean bedspread. Dani follows her down, knees on either side of Jamie’s thighs, sitting carefully in her lap. 

“Now what?” Jamie teases, even as she’s sliding both hands up Dani’s sides, firm enough not to tickle as she brackets Dani’s ribs and lets the next ragged breath push against her palms. Dani closes her eyes for a beat, swaying, untethered until Jamie tilts her head and kisses her again. All at once, it’s like being caught at the end of a string. All at once, it’s like being handed serenity. 

She realizes she’s moving her hips, rolling them forward against Jamie’s lap, liking the way Jamie’s hands tighten on her body and begin gently pushing her back and forth. There isn’t enough friction to really accomplish anything this way, but it hardly matters; it’s still so much, so much she feels like she’ll come apart anyway. Something this new, a feeling this big, reaching across the expanse of her, consuming her--she thinks she’ll lose something here tonight. Gain something. Tie the two together and be something different come morning. 

She used to worry about that, with him. Used to worry that if she ever gave in, ever tried that one last thing to feel how she was meant to with him, she’d be different the next day. She’d be someone else. 

This is something else entirely--so much so, she almost can’t breathe around the realization. That she will be different tomorrow, and that she will not be less Dani because of it, but more, somehow. Something more Dani than she’s allowed herself to be in her whole life, because it was chosen here, tonight, with Jamie’s hands on her body and Jamie’s mouth under her own. 

***

With Dani in her lap, skirt riding up around her thighs, hips moving restlessly, Jamie thinks for a second they’ve hit a wall. A very good wall to hit, she thinks hurriedly. If this is as far as they go tonight, it’s still worlds past anything she really expected from Dani. 

So long as she doesn’t regret it, doesn’t run from me, I could stay here forever. 

Dani, who has been kissing her for what feels like forever, breaks contact and just looks at her. Her hand, soft and cautious and more certain than Jamie expects, presses against Jamie’s breastbone. Pushes again. Jamie shifts backwards, inching up the mattress, pulling Dani with her until she’s flat on her back with Dani looking down. 

“Up to you,” she says. She likes the simple pressure of Dani’s body atop her own, of soft curve fitting all the spaces where Jamie doesn’t usually think of herself as lacking anything at all. Now, though, knowing what it feels like, how the whole of Dani is pressed flush to her, she wonders if she’ll ever feel complete in this bed again. 

“You still--”

“Want?” Jamie’s lips curve. “If you’re asking, there’s something I’m not doing right.”

“I’m sorry,” Dani says, then seems to catch herself. She sighs, smiles, laughs a little in that dizzy, self-conscious way that breaks Jamie’s heart. “This is...as far as I know. This is...”

Jamie nods, understanding. “You trust me?”

***

Dani is nodding, too, liking the way her body is moving almost of its own accord against Jamie’s. She hadn’t even realized she was doing it, hadn’t even realized she was still rubbing lightly against Jamie even as nerves pound through her system. 

“Tell me,” Jamie says in a low, urgent tone. “If anything changes.”

She rolls, then, a quick flash of movement that makes Dani shriek-giggle. From this new vantage point, back pressed into Jamie’s mattress, head on Jamie’s pillow, she feels suddenly so much more intimate than while straddling Jamie’s lap. Doesn’t make sense, she thinks with a thrill of such powerful lust, all she can do is grab again at Jamie’s shirt and hold on. But this is hers, and I’m here, and she’s...she’s...

“Tell me,” Jamie says again, a quiet command that drags soft nails up Dani’s back. She shivers, nodding, and Jamie takes the lead at last. 

***

She hadn’t thought, somehow, about this part. Not in so many firmly phrased words. She’d thought about the shape of it, of Dani in her flat, of Dani in her bed, of Dani kissing her, touching her, but somehow, this part slid away every time it tried to rise in her mind. 

The part of the show where clothes go away. The part of the show Jamie has always liked the most, and the least, at the same time. 

Dani is kissing her when she slides both hands beneath the sweater, easing it up, giving Dani ample time to pull away. Dani, instead, sits up just enough to allow the sweater to rise over breasts, shoulders, head. Jamie drops it off the bed, leans back on her knees, smiles. 

“Is there...” Dani isn’t covering herself, exactly, but there’s a sort of nakedness to her expression that has nothing to do with clothes disappearing. “I mean, am I--”

She leaves it unspoken, a bit embarrassed: right? okay? enough? 

“Perfect,” Jamie tells her. “Absolutely gorgeous.” 

She takes the hem of her own shirt in her hand, waits, pleased when Dani sits up and covers that hand with her own searching fingers. She doesn’t want to go anywhere Dani isn’t willing to take her, and she certainly doesn’t want to deprive her of the small moments that make a first time with someone else so electric. When Dani guides the shirt up over her head, it’s like Jamie’s never done this, either--no woman has ever just looked at her, eyes steady and searching, in a moment like this. 

Women are usually the fast, nervous, lights-off-don’t-talk kind of souls in Jamie’s bed. Touch me, kiss me, don’t look, don’t ask questions, don’t act like you want to be here. But Dani is looking at her with lips parted, hands tracing the lines of Jamie’s neck, collarbones, the dip between her breasts. Her fingers are shaking so hard, Jamie covers them with her own, pulls them to her lips. 

“One thing at a time,” she says quietly. “Anything’s too much, we pull back.”

Dani pulls at her, guiding Jamie’s hands back to work the clasp of her bra, to cover her skin with soft, careful strokes. She arches into Jamie’s hand and whimpers, and Jamie thinks there was no way, no way she could have predicted any of this. Not as it is. Not as Dani is letting it be. 

***

She’d thought, back in the greenhouse, that Jamie’s kiss was enough to drown in. That Jamie’s lips traveling from her mouth to her throat to her ear was enough to drive her wild enough that she’d forget her own name. 

It’s nothing compared to Jamie kissing her now, holding her with gentle hands as she explores every inch of skin she can reach. She is all tongue, all soft bite, all lips on shoulder, on pulse, on everything Dani has never been able to imagine letting someone else even look upon. 

Here, Jamie’s jean-clad legs intertwined with her own bare ones, her skirt rucked high, Dani thinks maybe this is the best it could possibly be. To be in Jamie’s bed, with Jamie’s hand light on her breast and Jamie’s kiss burning hot as she travels lower, as she moves like they’ve got all the time in the world, is maybe the best the world could ever get. 

Every so often, Jamie raises her eyes, and Dani feels something hot and tight clutch in her stomach. Jamie, asking if this is all right. Jamie, sucking a mark into the skin of her belly. Jamie, one hand moving lower so slowly, Dani sort of thinks she’s going to scream. 

***

She’s trying to go slow, trying to take this as easily as she possibly can, but every inch of Jamie is on fire. Part of her is hyper-aware of the reality of the situation: that Dani is nervous, that Dani is special, that Dani is someone Jamie couldn't bear hurting even on accident. And, more: that Jamie’s scar is out on display, that Jamie’s home is out on display, that Jamie is more visible and vulnerable with shirt off and jeans on and mouth pressed to the smooth arc of Dani’s stomach than she’s been in years. 

When Dani takes her by the wrist, she’s sure they’ve gone far enough--that the heat between her own legs will have to wait, that Dani is going to roll off the bed and scramble back into her sweater and away from--

Her hand, wrapped around Jamie’s, slides beneath her skirt. 

Her fingers, wrapped around Jamie’s, guide her to press against damp underwear. 

Her back arches. Jamie groans. 

“Okay,” she breathes, looking up at Dani’s too-blue eyes. “Okay, getting the picture.”

***

She didn’t know. Didn’t have the first idea what this would feel like. Didn’t have even the remotest frame of reference, and if she were anywhere else, if she were with anyone else, maybe she’d still be too keyed-up to find out.

But Jamie is sliding back up the bed, hand rubbing soft, testing circles between Dani’s legs, and yes--she thinks she’s starting to understand at last. 

She kisses Jamie hard, without care of how she looks or being even the least bit smooth, her own hand fumbling toward the zipper of Jamie’s jeans. No time like the present, she thinks with a truly unexpected delight, pleased when Jamie spreads her legs and shifts her hips to help her ease between cloth and skin. 

“Right for it,” Jamie pants in surprise, and Dani is too invested to feel embarrassed. Jamie is soft under her hand, wet, hips jerking to match her clumsy movements. She closes her eyes, concentrates on trying to mirror what Jamie’s doing with her own considerably more nimble fingers. Tries to match her in slow, gentle pressure--then a little faster, as Jamie sucks breath through her teeth--and faster yet, when Jamie presses up in a way she doesn’t fully expect. 

She doesn’t even realize she’s losing control until she’s already halfway gone, her hand tripping and fumbling as Jamie uses two fingers and a series of quick, rhythmic motions to set a pace Dani can’t help but follow with her hips. She realizes she’s rolling onto her back, arching, making noises she’s never heard from her own lips, and Jamie rolls to follow, kissing those noises into muffled joy.

Jamie rides out the spasms with her, keeping her hand exactly where it is, slowing to a gentle rest of fingertips against ruined underwear. Dani’s vaguely aware her own hand is still down Jamie’s pants, no longer moving. She exhales. 

“I--”

“S’all good,” Jamie says, her smile edged with something Dani thinks looks rather smug. “First time. Takes practice.”

***

It doesn’t surprise her, Dani falling asleep soon after. There were some mumbling sounds about reciprocation, about fairness, about wanting to feel Jamie twitch and groan under her fingers--but Jamie, jeans unzipped, feeling rather good about herself, only pulled her in close. Kissed her slowly. Let her fade into a gentle doze against Jamie’s shoulder. 

Good, Jamie thinks, though her skin is buzzing and there is an ache she hasn’t felt in a long time low in her belly. Rest, Poppins. There’s always tomorrow. 

If pressed, she couldn’t say why she feels such pride, such easy pleasure, watching the way Dani sinks into sleep in her arms. Maybe because Dani hasn’t looked like someone with the benefit of a good night’s sleep since Jamie met her. Maybe simply because Dani feels perfectly safe, perfectly notched against Jamie in this small bed. 

Either way, it feels right, Dani’s warm breath spilling across her bare skin. It feels right, even in this dumpy little flat above the only pub in Bly, though Dani is surely too good for a place like this. 

Maybe not for someone like me, though, Jamie thinks blearily, too pleased and too tired to pile upon that idea the weight of a lifetime not being good enough. Past doesn’t matter, not with Dani. It’s different, with Dani. 

She drifts. Tomorrow, they’ll wake to sunlight streaming through thin curtains, and maybe Dani will be a little embarrassed about everything they’ve done--maybe she’ll want to talk about it, or want to pretend it never happened, and Jamie will figure out how to handle the pain of that then.

She falls asleep thinking this is possible--but somehow knowing it isn’t likely. Isn't Dani. It’s too early to know a thing like that, but all the same, Jamie is pretty certain there will be no mortified scramble for clothes, no pushing her aside as Dani runs for the door, no awkward small talk on the ride back to the house. 

She does not anticipate, upon waking, Dani kissing her cheek. Kissing the corner of her lips. Kissing her neck and murmuring, “Morning...” with a question on the end of the word Jamie can’t help but laugh at before she’s even fully awake. 

“First thing, huh?”

Dani smiles at her, the smile of a woman who selected this very date venue not out of any polite curiosity about a small village pub, but because this particular bed existed above it. “Takes practice, you said.”

Jamie inhales sharply as a hand cups very lightly against the front of jeans that feel entirely irrelevant. “I did. Yeah. I definitely did.”

#the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #fanfiction #dani x jamie #jame x dani #all right all right something happy for once #for all the many anons who've been asking for the pub date #knew I'd get around to it eventually

[chansmuffin]

blaze - han jisung

Genre: smut | noona!au

Pairing: jisungXfem!reader

Word Count: 4k

Series: Stoned Series (skz)

Warnings: drug use, small age gap, lack of protection

Sometimes, living with your little brother made you just need moments to yourself.  

It was suffocating, being around the couple year younger boy who had still so much maturing to do in his college aged self. You assumed all college kids still needed to mature though so you tried not to give your brother too much crap because just a few years ago, you were going to college too.

You unlike your brother though, had to grow up much faster since you lost your parents right after graduating high school and you were left to care for Felix on your own. You raised him for a couple of his teenaged years, and you wondered if you did good enough. Felix was a decent kid, sweet even but you wondered if you had truly a positive impact in his upbringing the way your parents had. You could never be them, but you tried to be as close as you could for Felix. You were only eighteen when you had to care for the fourteen-year-old boy, how much better could you have done?

Surely, you had done good enough – if you hadn’t, he wouldn’t be in college and have two part time jobs, right? He wouldn’t help you make ends meet or calm your anxious tears when you were overwhelmed from your own two full-time jobs – after all tuition wasn’t cheap and you were not only paying off your own but backing a lot of Felix’s too.

So sometimes, you had to diffuse and sometimes that involved your secret.

Your brother didn’t know you smoked, and you aimed to keep it that way because you didn’t want to set any example to him. He didn’t have the time or the mental strength to get high while needing to focus on school. You knew because you fucked up plenty of good study nights spending your nights with Mary Jane and dipping into a fog you couldn’t seem to navigate out of.

Now though, having your first weekend to yourself in three months, you didn’t have to worry about having a clear mind for anything and you could lose yourself for a couple hours. You just needed your muscles and mind to relax a fraction, you weren’t planning to get blazed.

Which lead you to where you were with your bedroom window wide open, you crouched next to it on your bed that you had conveniently placed below it, and blowing smoke out into the night air as your body seemed to relax.

But yet, your heavy heart and head continued on. The substance hadn’t hit you in that way yet.

Fuck, you missed your parents.

You hadn’t even realized that six years had passed till Felix mentioned it at dinner the previous night and ever since he did, you couldn’t think straight.

There were so many times you just needed a hug from your dad or a cheek pinch from your mom and now was one of those moments.

You took another puff, looking up into the night sky and wondered what they would think of how you did without them. Would they be proud? Would they see all the work you put into Felix for them?  

Them being gone really got to you at times like this – especially when you tried to relax it seemed your head wouldn’t allow it as it filled with anxious thoughts.

You wiped a tear that had fallen from your eyes and tapped your joint on the window as you watched the ashes fall from the tip.

And before it could touch your lips again, your bedroom door flew open.  

“Noona, Felix is already in bed-”

Your gaze shot to Jisung, your little brothers' best friend as you tried to hide the substance, but you knew it was hard with the smell and the way your fan was not oscillating in your direction. “Jisung, do you knock?”

The younger boy always walked into your room. You knew better. You should have been on guard. You should have just locked your door.

“Noona,” he said with a knowing grin, “What are you doing?”

You knew you were caught so you just sighed and put up a hand, “Please don’t tell Felix.”

He pursed his lips, “How many of your secrets have I told him, noona?”

You waved your hand at him, “You’re right.”

Jisung was nothing but a perfect confidant who you hadn’t meant to make. Through his past few years of being friends with Felix, he had caught you in many situations you tried to hide from Felix and every time you begged him not to tell, he kept your secret gladly, never so much as whispering a word to your little brother.

“I’m loyal to you,” he said simply, “I have no reason to report to Felix.” And loyal to you he seemed to be. Nights when Felix was already in bed and your heart had been broken, Jisung was there to mend the seams of your heart. He comforted you in ways that you hadn’t known you needed.

Even so, you scoffed, “You’re his best friend.”

He raised a brow, “But you’re my noona.”

And for some reason, his words made shivers rack down your back. The shivers you tried to hide as you took another puff, blowing the air out the window so it didn’t go near Jisung. It seemed lately, Jisung had been more flirtatious and it should have made you uncomfortable but instead, you would blush and feel your body ignite in flames.

It was wrong. It was so fucking wrong but the one person you couldn’t hide your desires from was yourself and Jisung seemed to be the focus of your fantasies lately. Which made your cheeks flame even hotter at his words. The way he called you, ‘his noona’ was possessive and your body loved it. Jisung did things to you that you didn’t dare speak about.

Jisung looked down the hall as he switched his weight from one foot to another, “Noona.”

“Hmm?” you said absentmindedly as you tried to clear the thoughts that were decorating your mind.

“Can I try?”

You shot him a look, “I refuse to be a bad example to you Jisung.” But fuck would it be hot to get high with him. Oh my god. You tried to shake the thought away.

He shot a look right back, “I don’t look up to you like that.”

You narrowed your eyes, “What does that mean?”

“I kind of see you as an equal... like, that sounds bad,” he trailed off, “I respect you as my Noona but you can’t really set a bad example. You’re not that much older.”

“Old enough that I should discourage you.”

He sighed, “Noona, I’ve been wanting to try. It’s not because you’re doing it. My friends do it too, I just haven’t had the chance. Please, I’m bored and Felix is already in bed.”

“He’s in bed?” you asked, surprised, normally on weekends he stayed up with Jisung playing video games.

“He is picking up a shift at work tomorrow so he had to.”

“Ah.” He was such a good little brother. He hadn’t even told you and for good reason as you always scolded him about working too much and not having time to study. But he just didn’t want to see you struggle - which you did a lot.

You took another small hit, watching as Jisung watched you in awe.

“No.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Jisung.”

“Noona,” he said desperately, “You let me drink. This can’t be worse.”

He got you there. You did let him and Felix drink but there were rules, it could only be in your house and on your terms. You needed the two young boys to be in a safe controlled environment so they couldn’t make any stupid mistakes like you did in college.  

This wasn’t like drinking. While you didn’t want to justify it as if it was nothing, you still knew that there were worse things Han Jisung could ask to do.  

For moments, you contemplated allowing him to and when he shut your door and walked over to you, you started to shake. What if you ruined this boy? You were so scared of doing something bad to him that it made you shake your head. Yeah, your body wanted Jisung to smoke with you, but your mind told you how bad of an idea it was.

“Jisung, I can’t.”

He shrugged, still walking towards you, “I’ll find somewhere else to do it, Noona. You know what you say about being in a safe environment.”

And he was right. This was a safe environment and if he was going to do it anywhere he should do it where you could keep an eye on him.

You rolled your eyes and handed him the joint, allowing him to sit down next to you, “Okay but if you tell a soul, I will never let you do anything again.”

He sat close to you, nearly making you sweat from the proximity and as you tried to scoot away, he scooted closer, “What do I do?”

You hummed as you grabbed it back from him and tried to slowly demonstrate to the younger boy. You could feel the tingling in your limbs as the weed slowly started to affect your body. You knew some of the tingling couldn’t be excused as the weed, as Han Jisung was right next to you causing all your nerves to be on their ends.  

You handed it back to him, sitting against the wall next to the window as your limbs relaxed and you took a deep breath. Any bad thoughts about your parents you had seemed to flow out of your mind even if only momentarily. Other thoughts started to circulate and when they started to involve Jisung, you gulped and tried to act indifferent.

But how could you be indifferent when he looked so damn hot in his sweatpants and black t-shirt? When he was holding a joint between his fingers and looking at you with intense eyes?

But you pushed that away as you saw him inhale.

Watching as he took his first hit, you couldn’t help but laugh when he hit it too hard, face turned red and he started to cough. “W-why di-didn't you warn m-me?” he choked.

You patted his back a couple times while snickering, “You wanted to try it, I figured you should know what you were doing.”

You waited for him to pass it back to you but you watched as he took two hits back to back. You leaned over him while he choked, taking the joint away and putting it between your lips as you relit it. You raised a brow, “I think you’re going a little fast, Han Jisung.”

“Gotta catch up to you.”

“Oh baby, you’re gonna catch up,” you laughed as he continued to cough seemingly harder at your words.  

You passed it back, seeing if he was brave enough for another hit and when he was, you applauded him. Even if his eyes were lined with tears the coughing had caused, you were so proud of him. Proud of your little Jisung. Watching him take hit after hit, sent waves through your body and made you feel things you shouldn’t keep feeling for your little brother’s best friends. But here you were. As if Jisung didn’t make you hot and bothered enough, the weed added to it.

“You’re determined.”

It didn’t take longer than fifteen minutes for Jisung to be wrecked for his first time ever. His eyes were bloodshot, glazed over and had bags decorating underneath them. When he let out a shaky breath and snatched your pillow from you, your gaze shot over to his.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your mind fuzzy.

Your pillow was pushed against his lap and you watched him carefully, wondering what the fuck he was doing as his eyes darted around your room nervously.  

“What’s wrong, Jisung?” you asked concerned as you reached for him slowly.

He reacted even slower, trying to dodge your hand but missing it as your fingers wrapped around his shoulder. “Please don’t touch me.”

And instantly your mind went to panic. Thoughts of ‘oh my god what if he’s like allergic or something?’ and ‘what if he’s having a random panic attack?’ filled your blazed mind. Which is exactly why you didn’t want to smoke that much in the first place but when you and Jisung were both giggling together, it seemed like a good idea to keep going.

“Jisung!” you nearly yelled, “What’s wrong?” you shook him gently and he barely moved as his eyes just shot over to yours, dark and intimidating, he seemed to have shifted. You gulped because he looked borderline scary.

And in your intoxicated state, it turned you on.  

Fuck, you were an idiot. You cursed yourself for several moments until the next sentence fell from Jisung’s mouth; “Noona, if you touch me again, I’ll do something stupid.”

And in panic, you touched him again, trying to see if he had a fever. It was weird for him to not want to be touched by you. Normally, he had no problem with touching you and it wasn’t as if you guys never had skin ship. There were a few drunken times you had snuggled into his arms late at night on your living room couch while your brother was unaware. His fingers snapped to your wrist, holding tight as he searched your face for whatever emotion he had been looking for.

“Ji-”

“This is making me feel something, Noona,” and for a moment he laughed as he kept your wrist in his grasp, “I mean it’s intensifying something I’ve always felt.”

The moment you reached for the pillow in Jisung’s lap to hit it over his head, you instantly regretted as you noticed that Jisung in fact, had a raging boner and you in fact, thought it was hot.

Oh god. You were absolutely fucked and completely stoned out of your mind. You felt yourself having to hold back shaking hands from reaching out and touching him.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he remarked as he pushed you down onto your bed and towered over you. Your body clenched as he dropped your wrist and went down to his elbows, just barley hovering above you, “Noona,” he drew out, “Can I be honest with you?”

You licked your lips and his eyes dropped to them, as a small smirk played across his lips. “Jisung, you’re high.”

He blinked once before leaning down, lips against your ear, “What’s the excuse when I’m not high then?”

And your skin was covered in goosebumps as your body trembled at his words because you knew exactly what he was insinuating. “Maybe you should go to bed.” But that was the last thing you wanted him to do. You wanted more than anything to stay wrapped up in Jisung.

“Or I could put you to bed?” he asked in a husky whisper against your ear. “Yes or no? I’ll leave right now if you tell me no.”

For several moments you were silent until you got the courage to say his name, “You should go to bed.”

His eyes moved back to yours and the devilish grin was back and fuck if he looked scary. “Say no and I’ll go to bed, say yes and I’ll stay.”

“Ji,” you whined.

“One or the other, Noona.”

“Fuck,” you muttered because you really couldn’t find it in you to say no and you also knew it was a really bad idea. A bad idea but an idea that you wanted. He looked so good and smelled so fucking good that your head was spinning.

He shook his head, “Give me the word, Noona or I’m just going to leave,” and he started to get up so you panicked.  

“Yes,” you blurted out so fast that you didn’t believe what you were saying. You just gave your consent to Jisung, your BROTHERS BEST FRIEND for crying out loud. What the fuck were you thinking? What the fuck? But yet, you wanted him so bad you could fucking taste it.

His lips were on you so fast, you barley got a breath in. His body pressed against yours as you tasted the faint touch of weed on his breath. His lips felt like heaven and he kissed you as if he were trying to devour your soul. He kissed you in a way you had never been kissed before and unfortunately you had been through quite a few boyfriends over the past couple of years. His lips found their way down your jaw and to your neck as you allowed him to suck marks all over your neck, mumbling to himself words that you couldn’t hear. When you asked him to speak up, he glared at you and said, “Mine.”

You shivered as he continued his assault on your neck and his hands found their way to the button on your shorts. He undid them, pulling down the zipper with one hand before pushing his hand inside, and rubbing your core over your underwear. You moaned loudly just from the simple touch and it made Jisung growl in response as he bit your neck harder, darkening the marks he had already made.

“Want you so bad,” he muttered as he used both hands to pull your shorts off in one swift movement. You watched him with lidded eyes as he lifted his shirt up and over his head. You stared at his body, ogling the abs you knew he had worked so hard on. Your hand brushed over them as you tried to press your thighs together, them stopping because Jisung was between them. He noticed, seeing your need for some kind of friction and his hand snapped back to your core, palm rubbing against your clit as his name fell off your lips.

He tugged at your shirt, begging you to take it off so you lifted up quickly and launched the article across your room as he unsnapped your bra, groaning when your breasts fell free and were on full display for him. He leaned down, mouth wrapping around a sensitive bud and sucking generously, making your hips thrust up against him, his hard length rubbing against your thigh.

It was your turn to tug at his pants as you begged to see his cock, wondering just what Jisung had been hiding from you all this time. You hadn’t really realized it or allowed yourself to realize it but you had wanted Jisung for a long time and being high was starting to make you come to terms with it.

Fuck, having him on top of you was making you come to terms with it and it felt even better that it was mutual. A weight that had yet to fall on your shoulders was lifted at that fact. Jisung wanted you just as much as you wanted him.  

When you saw Jisung’s length, your jaw dropped, and he plunged two fingers deep inside you while you were distracted. You nearly screamed out his name as his fingers curled around your g-spot. “Like what you see, Noona?” You loved what you saw. Jisung was fucking perfect and he had one of the best cocks you’d ever seen.

You nodded greedily while he continued to pump his fingers in and out of your heat and then, he froze.

“I don’t have a condom,” he spit out, anger coating his voice as his fingers slipped out of you.

You frantically shook your head, “It’s okay. We don’t need it.”

He stifled a moan, “Baby, are you sure?”

And at the pet name, you melted, “I’m so fucking sure.”

Then his fingers were back inside you as he happily fingered the fuck out of you until you were seeping all over his knuckles and he made you cum at least three times. He looked accomplished and with a press of his lips to yours, he lined up with your entrance and thrusted inside you.

Again, you nearly screamed as he filled you up, saying his name like a demonic chant. He groaned against your ear, whispering, “Noona,” over and over again, making your body convulse underneath his.

At every ‘Noona,’ you felt yourself closer to cumming. Him calling you with such endearment was never going to sound the same again. Every time for now on when he said your name, you would think of this moment.  

He thrusted slowly at first, taking his time and savoring every inch of your heat but then you begged for him to go harder and he happily obliged. His fingers dug into your hips as his hips snapped into them, his cock smacking against your cervix at every hard thrust. You could feel his cock practically in your stomach and you were sure this was the best sex you ever had. Especially when you watched his perfect lips latch onto one of your nipples and suck as he thrusted into you. Your fingers found their way to his hair, pulling roughly at the silky locks as he bit your sensitive bud, causing you to yelp in both pain and pleasure.

“I need it harder, Jisung,” you begged. Being high made you incredibly horny and every time you wanted the roughest sex you could get, even if it was rough vanilla sex.

So Jisung flipped you onto your stomach, pressing his raging cock back into you and digging his nails into your ass as he continued his assault on your body.

“Noona,” he moaned as he thrusted faster and harder, the sound of skin slapping loud enough that you swore to a god that you would wake up your brother – but in the heat of the moment it didn’t matter. The air was heavy with the scent of sex and you knew that it would be obvious to anyone but again, you didn’t care.

You were in pure bliss as Jisung dove into you, playing with your breasts roughly while he pounded into you.  

After cumming another two times, your knees nearly collapsed, and you were pressed flush with the bed. You were shaking and your cunt was aching. Jisung’s thrusts got more sloppy as he pulled your body off the bed, pushing your back against his chest as his lips attached to your ear, nibbling gently before he whispered, “Can I cum in you Noona?”

“Fuck yes,” you groaned.

Jisung held you up tightly to keep you from collapsing as he moaned out your name and came hard inside you, filling you with his warm cum and making you drool just at the thought.

Almost instantly, he pushed you down into your sheets, fell down next to you and pulled you into his arms as you felt his cum seeping out of you.

“That was the hardest I ever came,” Jisung admitted, “You’re so fucking hot.”

You pushed closer to him to snuggle. “Honestly and whole heartedly me too. I don’t know what we just did and can’t process the boundaries we just crossed but Jisung, you made me feel so good.”

“Fuck boundaries, I’ve wanted to do that for years.”

“I don’t know if I’m still high and can’t process that but I want to do it again, Jisung.”

You could feel his smile, “Me too baby,” and then time seemed to stop because your brother came crashing through your door. You hadn’t even had a second to grasp your bearings.

Sometimes, this was exactly why you needed the time to yourself.

Felix was standing in the doorway when he said, “Noona what’s going – oh my god!” and his eyes went wide before his hand was up to them, blocking the sight as if he hadn’t seen anything in the first place. “Why are you naked and in bed with my sister?” he screeched at Jisung.

“It was an accident?” Jisung asked with uncertainty.

“An accident?” he screeched before turning on his heel and hurrying down the hallway.

“I think we scarred him for life.”

#skz smut #skz fanfic #han jisung fanfic #han fanfic #han smut #han jisung smut #dont read if you cant handle it #stray kids smut #stray kids oneshot

[obxwritings]

☆ Wouldn’t want it any other way ☆

requested by @im-blossoming​: “Can you write an imagine where the reader confesses her love to JJ” I hope I lived up to what you wanted! Thank you so much for requesting! :) enjoy! 

summary: just another friends to lovers story because that’s my favorite trope! (fem!reader x JJ) based off of one of these! 

word count: 1,841

note: I did write this from 11 pm to about 1:30 am, so that’s something. Sorry if it’s so long! I guess I was just in a writing mood. oh also, italics mean flashback/ y/n’s thoughts so hopefully that’s clear! if not, sorry! 

masterlist of other works by me! 

If someone asked you to pinpoint the exact moment in time you began to have feelings for your best friend, you could give them the exact date and time. It was back in February of freshman year of high school. 

February 13th

You were sitting on your bed trying not to cry. Tonight was supposed to be a fun night with your friends at the high school’s annual valentine’s day dance. While all of your friends had found someone to go with at least two weeks before the dance (well, except JJ. He was protesting the dance claiming it was just another way the school was taking money from students as well as the school condoning teenagers getting “nasty,” but no one had asked you until a few days before. You were ecstatic. It had been Tyler from your English class. And while he simply asked you after class one day, you couldn’t wait. You had the perfect dress, and you couldn’t wait to show it off.  

And just as you finished your hair, you received a text from your date that was clearly meant for someone else: 

Tyler: Look, I already asked her. That was the bet we made. Do I get my money now or do I still have to take her to the dance too? 

Tyler: oh sorry wrong person. 

You were heartbroken, to say the least. You didn’t even like Tyler like that, but his text just confirmed your original thoughts: no one wanted to go with you. So there you were, sitting on your bed with your hair done perfectly while you were still in sweats and your half-done makeup. You don’t remember when it was, but your mom had come into the room and seeing your current state, tried to console you. The two of you had spent the rest of the night watching old movies and doing anything to get your mind off of the stupid boy in your English class. 

It wasn’t until the next day, the 14th, that you saw your friends again. You heard some loud noises from downstairs and went to investigate. Creeping down the stairs, you had stopped in your tracks when you saw your friends in their nicest attire hanging a few decorations around your living room. You almost weren’t going to say something until you saw JJ almost fall trying to hand a tiny plastic disco ball from your ceiling fan. 

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” you asked, startling the group. 

“There she is! We heard about what happened yesterday and wanted to make up for it.” John B smiled. “Go back upstairs and put on your dress! We’ll be done by then.”

True to their word, the pogues had finished decorating the living room when you returned. You were stunned. Upon your return, your mom came back with a disposable camera and insisted on taking pictures. After a few goofy pictures, JJ decided to get the music started and insisted on everyone on dancing. 

Following your mom into the kitchen, you went to thank her for organizing all of this. You found out, however, she was not the mastermind behind this: JJ was. 

“Oh sweetheart, as soon as he found out what your date did, he insisted on throwing a party of your own. Seems like he didn’t want his best friend to miss her special day.” she smiled at you and sent you back into the living room to join your friends. 

After a while, the others went into the kitchen to get some drinks and snacks, you pulled JJ aside and gave him the biggest hug. 

“Thanks for doing all of this JJ. It means a lot to me,” you gave the blond a smile. 

“Hey, it’s no big deal. I know you were looking forward to it and showing off that dress, which you look beautiful in by the way, so it just seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, this is a dance with a cause I can get behind! Your mom supplied us with everything and I don’t have to socialize with people from school that I don’t want to. I get to spend it with my best friend.” JJ led you to the kitchen and showed you a small vase of flowers, “I also got these for you. I figured if we were going to do this, I had to go the whole nine yards to get you to smile.”

It was at that moment that you had fallen for your best friend. You were completely screwed. 

And while that was just the beginning of your feelings for JJ, it worsened from there. In between exchanged smiles, sunset boat rides consisting of just the two of you, and slight touches such as a quick hug or hands brushing, your feelings for the blond had only grown. You were in deep and didn’t know how to stop it. There were so many nights where you had made up different situations on how to tell JJ your true feelings. However, all your made-up conversations of how you would confess your feelings to JJ all went to waste when JJ announced he had a date for the party on Friday night. 

You were bummed. Of course he didn’t feel the same way you thought to yourself. Your posture deflated and you had a clear frown on your face.  And while you didn’t mean to bring the mood of the group down, JJ could tell you weren’t feeling too good while the others argued over what to do later that night. 

Pulling you aside, JJ tried to get you to talk, but you didn’t feel like it. Not when the rest of your friend group was no more than ten feet away. You had hidden your feelings for JJ for more than a year; you could certainly hide them for a while longer. 

… 

As the clock neared midnight, you figured it was time to go home. Your mom was probably still up waiting for you to come home, making sure you got back safely. As soon as you excused yourself from the group and said your goodbyes, JJ got up to go with you. 

“JJ, you don’t have to walk me home. I am perfectly capable of walking.” 

“I can’t let you walk home alone at night, y/n,” JJ stated, “it’s too dangerous. I can’t let my best friend get hurt.”

Best friend, that’s all I’ll ever be you thought. 

“What did you say?” JJ’s question pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Uh, what do you mean? I didn’t say anything.” 

JJ gave you a weird look, “yes you did. You said something about being best friends I think.”

Oh, so you had accidentally spoken your thoughts out loud, that’s great. 

“It was nothing, okay JJ?” you sighed and began to pick up your pace, now being more desperate to go home and escape your best friend. 

JJ was quick, however, catching up to you and grabbing your hand to stop you, “Y/N, something is clearly bothering you tonight. What is it?

And while JJ was talking, all you could think of was your best friend’s hand in yours. The thought made you want to smile, but you quickly remembered the predicament you were in. Shrugging you hand out of his, you looked at the ground thinking about how to avoid this talk with JJ. 

“Look JJ, I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, okay?” clearly frustrated, you took a deep breath. “I’m just really nervous. I’ve rehearsed this in my head hundreds of times, but I don’t really know how to tell you now. I don’t want to ruin anything, and I’m a little scared the more I talk and think about it. I think I just need to go home, okay JJ?” you turned from your friend and began walking again. It wasn’t until you heard JJ’s voice that you turned around. 

“Well, why don’t I do the talking then?” 

Not knowing where this was going, you just kept your gaze on the ground. 

“Y/N, I-- wow you’re right this is kinda nerve-racking,” JJ let out a nervous chuckle, “but, if I think I know what you were going to say, I just wanted to say that I really like you too. I have since you made some random comeback at Pope on the boat one day this past summer. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but maybe with the sunset making you glow and your smile, I started to like you as just more than friends. I started to notice all the small things like how you would play with your hair when you got nervous around me, how you would always ask for my sweatshirts for when we had bonfires, or even how you blush whenever I gave you a nickname. It was all those little signs that told me that you liked me back. Or at least I think. Am I reading this right still? If I am wrong, please stop me. I’m getting too sappy for my liking and --” 

You cut JJ off by rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. You closed your eyes and closed the gap between you two with a kiss. After realizing what was happening, JJ closed his eyes too and wrapped his arms around you, embracing you in a hug and pulling you closer (if that was even possible). 

And while you didn’t want to break away, you did need to breathe. Your little high didn’t last too long though. You replayed JJ’s words in your head and moved back slightly. 

“Wait, you knew? All this time you watched me get nervous and flustered and embarrass myself in front of you and you knew? Do you know how many times I laid in bed regretting every embarrassing thing I had said? It was a lot by the way.” you huffed, looking slightly annoyed.

JJ laughed and shook his head, “Well I kind of knew. You were acting like how people normally do around those they like, but you’re my best friend; I didn’t want to risk messing that up if I was reading all your actions wrong.”

“Well,” you started, “you certainly were reading it right. I really like you too, in case you didn’t know.” 

“I think the kiss was a giveaway.”

“Oh be quiet, Maybank.” you laughed as you untangled yourself from the blond. “So, does this mean you still have that date for Friday?”

“Oh that? That was just to see your reaction to confirm my theory about your feelings for me. But, I would rather much have you as my real date for Friday instead of a fake one. What do you say?” JJ held out his hand for you and motioned to start walking back to your house. It was a little past midnight anyway. 

You accepted his hand with a smile,  “Of course. Wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

note: if you made it this far, thanks for reading! let me know how it was :) as always, requests are open! ☆

#jj maybank #jj imagine #jj x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj one shot #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks netflix

[arcadianstuff]

“Diner Date”

Waitressing on the hottest day of summer is less than ideal and things don’t seem to be going your way. That is until Douxie walks in and your day gets a little bit better.

—————————————

“Order up !” Jerry yelled at you from the kitchen, pushing a tray with two milkshakes and two burgers on it towards you. A grimace befell your face as you realised your break was now over, and you had to get back to work.

It was an unbearably hot summers day, and the diner was cramped full of people. With only one little fan behind the counter to keep you cool; you were definitely feeling the heat and wishing you had the day off to spend outside Aja and Krel’s house in their pool. Sadly, your need for money was greater than your need for a cool dip in the pool, as your last year of high school drew closer. College was only a year away, and you needed to rack up some serious cash to help ease the financial burden.

“Well don’t just stand there (y/n). We’ve got customers.” Jerry’s annoyed yell from the kitchen snapped you into action and with a swish of your pink skirt, you were off.

“Here we go guys, two milkshakes and two burgers.” Smiling cheerily you handed out the food on the tray to Darcie and Toby, two students in the year below you, who seemed to be on a date.

“Thanks (y/n), this looks great.” Darcie was very excited to start eating whilst Toby hadn’t even waited a second before wolfing down some fries.

“Yeah thmanks (y/n).” He tried to say through a mouthful of food.

You cringed slightly at that but smiled anyways, telling them to call you over if they needed anything else. With that you rushed back behind the counter, grabbing a coffee pot and making your way around the diner, refilling drinks and taking orders.

It was just after the lunch time rush when Douxie entered the diner on the corner of 3rd street. It had been a long day of pushing a broom around the bookstore, and he wanted a nice cold drink to try and beat off the heat. In all his 919 years of life, he’d never learnt to adjust to the extreme heat of Californian summers. His time in England, a much colder country, had left him uncomfortable in hot summers.

Soft music played in the background, mixed with a little bit of chatter from the few customers left in the diner. In the corner he spotted Toby and Darcie, who he recognised from Arcadia Oaks High school.

Seeing that there wasn’t anyone sitting up at the counter, he grabbed one of the red leather stools and sat down. Douxie sighed, the heat almost unbearable. He grabbed a menu from atop the counter, searching for something to queñch his thirst. And that’s when he heard the voice of the one girl who made him lose his cool. As someone who was seen as being a bit of a lady’s man, flirty and cool, it was a big thing for someone to leave him speechless.

Peeking over the top of the menu, Douxie felt his world stop as he saw you, in a pink skirt and matching top pouring some coffee into a mug behind the counter. The way your tongue poked out of the corner of your mouth when you were concentrating, made him smile in amusement.

You looked lovely.

And Douxie was now very nervous to order.

‘Seriously Hisirdoux Casperan. You are 919 years old, get a grip and order a drink.’ He scowled at himself and internally berated himself for feeling so nervous.

He could do magic, battle monsters and save time itself, but apparently struggled to ask a pretty girl for a milkshake.

‘Fudgeknuckles, why am I like this ?’ With a groan at his nervousness he hadn’t noticed you coming over to him, a smile on your face as you flipped you pad open to take his order.

“Hi Douxie, what can I get for you ?” Your lovely voice took him by surprise and he found his cheeks going pink ever so slightly.

“Hello love, could I get one strawberry milkshake please.” Just like that, his nervousness faded as Douxie turned on his usual charming and flirty self.

You giggled a little at the idea of the punk rock boy, who wore all black and a skull necklace, drinking a pink milkshake but took the order nonetheless, promising to be able very quickly.

What you didn’t notice when you walked away to the kitchen, to give Jerry the order, was the way Douxie’s eyes followed after you. That skirt did look very good on you. Plus he’d never seen you in one before, as you normally wore jeans or shorts.

Sure the pair of you went to different schools but somehow still bumped into each other all the time; the town was very small. Whether it was when you came into the bookstore, needing more sustenance for your reading addiction, or rushing into the coffee shop first thing in the morning, before classes begin, for some coffee to get you through the day. He managed to see you nearly everyday. Now it felt weird if he didn’t see you.

You were bithteenagers, well douxie was one biologically, it was natural that you’d start developing crushes on each other. It was just a question of who’d act on it first. Archie and Zoe made a bet that you’d ask him first - twenty bucks was on the line. Where Archie was going to get twenty bucks from Douxie did not know.

“Here you go, one strawberry milkshake.”

Your cheery voice broke him from out of his thoughts, and he gave you a grateful smile as you slipped the drink across the counter.

“Thanks love, I really need this. Can’t beat the heat.” After thanking you, he took a sip of the cold drink appreciating the little relief it gave him.

“Tell me about it, I’ve only got twenty more minutes left of my shift, but it feels like a lifetime. Been in here all day and I’m boiling.” You chatted back, hoping to strike up a conversation with the guy you had a small crush on.

Okay a big crush. Plus the diner was pretty much empty now so you had a bit of time to kill.

“I can only imagine. Yeah I was wondering where you’d displeased to seeing as you didn’t come into the bookstore all day. Got a load of new books in, some I think you’d really like.” Douxie’s comments brought a pink rosy tint to your cheeks.

He’d not only wanted you to stop by the store but also thought about the books you might like. Yep you were definitely blushing now.

“Well save me some of the a d I’ll be round tomorrow to pick them up.” You played with a strand of your (h/c) hair trying to calm your nerves.

“Yeah, I’ll do that...” Douxie’s nerved came back and he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

The conversation lulled into a bit of an awkward silence. You bit the inside of your cheek feeling the tension start to build as neither of you knew what to say. It felt like the conversation was going to naturally progress somewhere but apparently the pair of you were two nervous to continue it.

Sighing you decided to gt back to work, maybe clean a few of the tables before you got to call it a day and head home.

Douxie watched, a little crestfallen, as you smiled at him and started to walk away, telling him to enjoy his drink. Damn it, he acted so cool and level headed in front of basically everybody else except for you.

‘Dont back down Hisirdoux or you’ll never get a chance again.’ With that final thought he called your name out.

You turned around, looking at him confused.

“I was wondering...if maybe you’d want to go out some time...on a date ?” He practically face palmed at how awkward he sounded. Douxie was used to charming girls with his jokes and flirting or even his music, yet here he was stumbling over himself trying to ask you out on a date.

You on the other hand were practically screaming in your head. Finally, after all of the flirting and tension-building he’d asked you out.

“Yes !” You quickly realised how eager you sounded and dialed it back.

“I mean yes, I’d like that. My shift ends in like ten minutes if you maybe want to go out after ? I was going to the park.” You cringed inwardly at yourself. What if he thought the park was lame or it was too soon to go out or to-

“That sounds good love. I’ll be here when you’re done.” His response calmed your worries of being lame but the wink he sent you at the end only increased your blushing.

“Cool. Cool. I’ll be back out in five.” With a little squeal you ran into the back of the diner, finding Jerry in the kitchen on his phone.

“Hey Jerry, my shifts over. Debby should be in soon.” You surprised the more man from his game of Dog Fight on his phone.

“Yeah, yeah go on and have a good day. See you tomorrow for 3.” He grumbled turning back to his game and watching the smile grow on your face as you ran back out of the kitchen.

“Ugh teenagers...”

You grabbed your jacket and bag from the staff room, quickly taking your hair out of its ponytail and brushing it. Back in the diner, Douxie was on his phone, drinking the last of his milkshake and smiled as he saw you approach.

He got off his seat and offered you his hand, trying hard to steel his nerves.

“Ready to go love ?” His question made your stomach flip, but you summoned all your courage and linked your hand in his, smiling up at him.

“Yep lets go !” You practically cheered as you dragged him out of the diner, happy to be free of the place and also to be going on your first date with Douxie.

A chuckle left his lips as he w at chef you eagerly pull him down the street. For the first time in a long time Douxie felt like he had someone, not just Archie but another person in this world to call his.

#douxie x reader #douxie #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #toa #toa douxie #toa wizards #troll hunters

[heycallmeladytypewriter]

A Call of a Siren - Chapter 2

A/N: As you guys have noticed, I tweaked a few things to fit Delia into the story but please let me know if I missed or messed up something on the storyline. Again, looking for a beta reader if anyone is interested. Chapter three should be up soon along with everyone's favorite angry boy. I don't own My Hero Academia. I only own my own characters and the story I create within Horikoshi's masterpiece of a world I'd love to live in.

Chapter One

_____________________________________________________________

“I expect you to all to still work hard on exams even though the end of the school year is in sight!” Her teacher was lecturing them on the importance of tests or something but Cordelia had other things on her mind. 

Nine months ago, she saw the world's greatest hero and a scrawny boy her age on the beach. A day she wouldn’t forget as it was a major part of why she was trying her damndest to get into UA in a month.

She went to the beach mostly everyday on a run and also practiced in her room after her family went out or was asleep. She also tried to incorporate some strength training exercises she got off the internet as she was sure you needed more than cardio to make it in. 

One thing she found herself doing, albeit shamefully, was sort of spying on All Might and Izuku Midoriya train on the beach and park. She didn’t necessarily go out of her way but it was on her training grounds too. No matter how she reasoned it, she still kept her distance and would hide at first sign of being found. It also didn’t help that she felt she had stumbled on a major invasion of privacy as she witnessed the strong and well, mighty, All Might transform to a tall but skinny weaker man. The first time she saw it she thought her eyeballs were for sure going to pop out her skull and fall to the floor with her jaw. She would never tell out of respect for the hero but still...every time he did it was like a mini heart attack especially when he would cough up blood afterwards. Like Jesus man please go see a doctor!

“Miss Bell I hope that dazed look on your face means you are thinking of your study schedule this weekend?” 

Her head turned from the window and faced the teacher, “ Oh, yes of course!” 

“Hmm..so anyways class -” Cordelia went right back to gazing out the window. 

_______________________________________________________

“ FIND SOMEWHERE ELSE TO DO YOUR STUPID STRETCHES BRAT!” Angry boy yelled at her for the 400th time.

Delia rolled her eyes again but continued her stretches where she was. She was here first anyway. Not that it mattered as she always stretched here because after Angry boy decided it was his workout spot she decided it was hers too. 

“Oi, don’t ignore me! Move your fat ass out of here!” 

“No thanks I’m good. And who are you calling fat ass, big tits?” She laughed as he bristled immediately at her response. He reminded her of a cat, all puffy and angry,  when he got like that which only made her giggle more. She wished to know his name but last time she asked he flipped her off. 

Looking at her watch, she realized she was going to be late for dinner. “Oh crap. Gotta go! Bye Big tits!” 

His water bottle flew right past her head as she ran off while he screamed expletives at her. “Hey!” She scolded. She slowed down enough to pick it up and chucked it with maximum force back at him, “don’t fucking litter!” 

She ran a little quicker when she heard the little pops of his quirk which is when she realized a few months ago that he was getting more pissed. “Goddamn brat!”

________________________________________________________

“Cordelia, you are late! Go wash up.” Her mother scolded her from the kitchen as she walked in the house. 

“Lost track of time! Sorry I’ll be quick!” She hopped up the stairs and nearly ran into her father, wearing his uniform, on the way. “Oops sorry Daddy!”

 Yes, she still called her father ‘Daddy.’

 Her ‘Daddy’ was a 6’4 man with piercing blue eyes that could intimidate anybody which probably helped with his job. Her mother always liked to point out that of course all her children had to inherit his blue eyes and not her brown ones.  

“Hey,” His hand shot out to gently grab her wrist before she could keep going, “What is all this training you doing for?” 

“Nothing in particular. Can’t I have a hobby?” She lied through her teeth before continuing on upstairs. 

“Cordelia…” 

“Dad. Teenage girl who wants to be fit - not rocket science!” 

Hopping in the hot shower, Delia relaxed finally. She was soooo lying to her family but felt it necessary as they stood on opposite ground concerning her dream of becoming a hero. 

She had a dream. She wasn’t going to give up without a fight just because she was alone in it. Deep down she was hoping if she became a good enough hero she could change their minds about the matter. 

She even took many preemptive precautions such as designating herself as the mail person of the house. She got it every day without fail and they would get used to just depending on her to get it. She managed to get a third cordless phone for the house she’d hide in her room to check the number in case of any specific calls coming through. She even created a fake parent email and perfected their signatures if needed. She was good at lying but it never felt easier on her to lie regardless of her reasons. 

“CORDELIA!” 

With a sigh, she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. At least I dry off quickly, she thought amused as she wicked the water off her body and out of her hair. 

__________________________________________________________

It was exam day. 

Delia’s nerves were all over the place as she sat in the auditorium filled with the other hopefuls. They grouped them by class it seemed though she didn’t recognize those sitting near her. Her fault, she was sure, as she didn’t reach out to others during this past year as she just assumed or more like hoped she’d be transferring after the year was up. 

She wondered where Midoriya was as he was the reason she got her butt here in the first place. 

The Pro, Present Mic, continued to shout out to the crowd of potential students but Delia figured everyone was too wound up to join in or even focus enough. He was in the process of explaining their physical test when a loud voice rang out. A boy with cut blue hair and glasses stood suddenly and practically demanded answers of a possible inconsistency regarding the robots before the Pro could probably get to it (impatient much?) and then turned behind him to yell at the very boy she was wondering about for muttering too loudly. 

She wanted to laugh but her nerves were already fraying. As they were announcing the order of tests and people were slowly being shuffled out of the auditorium, Delia took a long breath before marching outside with the others. 

____________________________________________________________

This was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. 

She went on auto pilot as soon as the doors opened. Everyone rushed forward only to be immediately greeted by a bunch of green robots with glowing red eyes. Without thinking, she looked for the nearest water source...yes, a fire hydrant!...and reached her hand outwards to pull the water. A burst of water came rushing out that she quickly sharpened into her normal water whip and sliced out at the first two robots she saw ahead of her, breaking their heads off. 

“Wow that was amazing!” A girl with short brown hair to her left shouted at her before running further down the street. Delia blinked. Holy shit, that was amazing! For a moment, Delia felt she could really do this...until about 10 minutes later.

The robots didn’t give her a minute to think anymore, which considering her extreme anxiety over today was probably a good thing, and she used her whip to maim any robot who came within range. As soon as she was finally racking up a few points, a giant shadow loomed over the street. 

It was the zero points robot. 

Holy shitballs it was huge, Delia thought, shielding her face, as it stomped its way over causing surrounding small buildings and the street itself to explode with force everywhere. 

She was about to run but she heard someone cry out. It was the really nice girl from earlier who was caught under the debris from the zero pointer. 

Everyone was running. 

Then she ran. 

Towards the girl. 

There was water running from a broken pipe so she willed it near her as she skidded to the girl and put her hand up and the water formed a water dome around her the girl as they braced themselves for the next step from the robot but it never came. 

“SMASH!” Midoriya yelled from above them. Through the water she saw him go flying at the face of the robot and hit it so hard the zero pointer was thrown back with a broken face. 

“Oh my god” she whispered. The water fell on them in a whoosh and she snapped back to the girl and pushed the rock up far enough to wiggle her leg out. Looking up, she saw Midoriya start to fall and her heart continued to race as she tried to figure out how to catch him but the girl who was stuck ran, now with a limp, touch a rock and float upwards towards him. She meets him halfway then taps him midair and slowly brings them back to earth. Then promptly throws up off the side of the rock. 

The buzzer goes off. 

Times up. 

Delia felt her shoulder drop in disappointment. She only had 20 points from the smaller robots and barely. That was it. She was stuck at a regular school and wouldn’t be a pro hero. 

The finality of things started to weigh on her and followed her as she shuffled her way home, trying not to cry.

____________________________________________________________

The wait was killing her. 

It’s been days and she’s checked the mail repeatedly. Damn near scared the mailman a few times when she ran up to him a few houses before hers.

By the time it came, she had all but figured she failed so badly that they weren’t gonna waste time with a letter. Yeah, she was being dramatic but still. 

Finally, a small package addressed to her arrived. Delia had to wait until her parents went out to the store with Henry before she could run to her room and play it. After triple checking they left, she set it up on her small desk and internally started to scream. 

“Young Bell, it is me All Might! I am here! To give you your results on your exam to UA!” 

There goes her ability to breathe. 

She started to bite her lip nervously. 

“It says here that you scored 24 points on your practical and did well enough in your written test. BUT” 

She was now on the verge of gnawing her lip off.

“While your scores were alright enough, what really wowed us was your last few minutes of the practical!”

He started a small screen next to him of the girl who was stuck under a rock talking to someone behind the camera. 

“Is it possible to share my points?!” The girl exclaimed to someone behind the camera. 

Delia’s hand went to her chest as the girl, who didn’t know her nor should’ve bothered to do this, wanted to make sure her and Midoryia earned enough points and if not, to give them some of hers. Her lip had to have been bruised by now.

“Did you really think a Hero academy judged solely on the ability to hit a robot? We look at everything! And you, Young Bell, embody just the right person we strive to teach! You went ahead without thinking or caring about anything but the girl and acted- acted heroically! We awarded you 30 more points bringing your total to a whopping 54! So, Young Bell, I want to congratulate you on your acceptance to UA! Welcome, future hero!” 

Delia’s lip was bleeding now but she didn’t care. Tears were rushing down her face before she could stop them.

She thought it was done.

But really- it was just beginning. 

She sent a silent thank you to the boy on the beach and the hero they both looked up to

#The Call of a Siren #bakugou x oc #bakugo fanfic #bakugou katsuki #mha #mha fanfiction #Class 1A #All Might #midoriya izuku #bakugou smut #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha fanfiction

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

Quick thanks to everyone whose liked this story so far! I just realized I have over 100 followers, which yes isn’t the highest number compared to others BUT coming onto this site from other’s that are pretty dead that number’s perfect for me and makes me really happy! So thank you all! 

You’re Taking Up a Fraction of My Mind pt.6

               Halley knew something was wrong only moments after the three men made it home after a long night of patrol. The Joker had escaped last night and she’d never seen any of the men of the house like this before. But even with Gotham’s most wanted lose again, she knew that that wasn’t the only thing causing the tension consuming the room. She sat on the couch, her nervous habit on full display but unnoticed as Dick and Jason were dead silent, face’s emotionless as they glared holes into the TV that played some movie none of the three were really even paying attention too.

           They were in the manor alone as somehow, by some miracle, Alfred managed to get Bruce away from the Batcave. Bruce was reluctant, determination setting in, but Alfred demanded that he stop playing dress up for an afternoon and take care of the responsibilities he’d been pushing off. The annual Wayne Enterprises Charity Gala was fast approaching and Alfred scolded the man as he drank his morning coffee, reminding him who he was besides Batman.

           “You’re not just Batman, you’re also Bruce Wayne,” Alfred reprimanded, refusing to let him follow more dead leads on the Joker.

           Alfred ordered the teenagers and Dick to spend the day together, stating how they should have some normal sibling bonding. He ignored Jason’s protests, saying how they weren’t actually siblings. Alfred quickly quieted him with one look, as Bruce also chimed in, saying that it would be good for them. He just wanted them to suffer like he was, Jason puffed his chest out and thought as the two older men left for the day.

           Halley looked away from the TV, only moving her head as to not draw attention to herself. She looked at Jason, sitting slumped back in a chair, wearing a blank expression but Halley could tell he was in a sour mood. She had asked him this morning what happened last night, mentioning his texts but he just shrugged her off and said it was nothing. She frowned, feeling as if he was shutting her out again when she thought they were finally over that. She wanted to push him put remembered how she felt when Dick had pushed her to talk yesterday and she didn’t want to make him feel cornered like that. He wasn’t like her when she’d just shut down and clamp up, he’d lash out and they would surely fight again and she didn’t want that.

           She moved her eyes to look at Dick, who sat on the opposing couch. He wasn’t looking at the TV anymore, instead down at his phone. One hand was typing almost furiously as the other arm was resting behind his head, propping his head up. His eyes focused on the screen, his face furrowing. Halley chewed on the tip of her thumb, feeling a pit of anxiety, wondering who he was talking too. She didn’t know why it bugged her but with how both boys were acting, she knew he was most likely complaining to either Kori or Wally about it.

           Jason had been fine, perfect even, until Dick showed up and she knew something happened between the pair; she wanted to know what but had no clue how to approach either boy about it. Clearing her throat, getting both of them to look at her quickly before darting their eyes back to their previous positions, she let her presence be known.  She shifted in her spot, lifting her legs up to fold up to her chest, leaning her head down to rest on her knees.

           She looked back at Jason, seeing him looking back at her from the corner of his eyes. She gave him a soft smile which caused him to loosen up and give her a smile back. He tensed back up when Dick let out a strangled cough, shooting him a glare. Halley caught it and jerked her to face him making Dick jump in place. She narrowed her eyes at him before reaching to the coffee table and grabbing the remote. The former assassin pressed down on the power button, slamming the remote back onto the coffee table and letting her feet rest back on the floor. The sudden silence made the tension of the room even more unbearable but now more so for the boys than the girl who sat now fuming in the middle of them.

           “What the hell is your problem?” She exclaimed, looking between the two of them. “And don’t say nothing, because I know that’s bullshit!”

           “There’s nothing-,” Dick started, slipping his phone into his pant pockets.

           “I just said that’s bullshit,” Halley glared, not letting him finish his lie. She stood up, flaring her arms out in frustration before turning to leave the room. “You two are a couple of babies.”

           She left the two alone, marching her way up to her room. She didn’t care about ‘Mandatory Sibling Bonding Time’ if this was how they were going to act. She wasn’t surprised at Jason acting this way, disappointed, but not surprised. But Dick, she’d never seen him act like such a, well, like Jason had said, a dick, before.  At this point she didn’t even care about what happened between them. She just wanted to them to suck it up and get over themselves.

           She knew Jason had jealousy and self-confidence issues and figured it had something to do with the former Robin being back but what the hell was Dick’s excuse? She thought back to their conversation yesterday and how he’d acted when he found out that she and Jason were getting close. Did he also have jealousy issues she hadn’t known about? Scoffing and rolling her eyes at the thought, she finally knew what Kori meant when she said Earth Boys were stupid. Speaking of which-

           “Hey, wait!”

           Halley didn’t stop her ascent up the stairs as she heard Dick’s voice calling out to her, he was only a few steps away behind her. She kept walking, mumbling about how she didn’t want to talk to either of them at the moment. Dick wouldn’t back down like he ended up doing last night, reaching out for grab her forearm to stop her.

           “I said wait,” He said as she was forced to stop. He didn’t falter when he saw her face glaring up at him, jerking her arm out of his grasp. “I’m sorry,”

           “For what?” She crossed her arms against her chest. When Dick took too long to think of a response she responded for him, shaking her head in annoyance, turning around to finish the walk back to her room.

           “Seriously, stop.” Dick began again, reaching for her arm again. It was her now that was being childish, not him, he told himself. “It was just- just a long night.” He decided with. “How about we get out for a bit? We haven’t had an ‘us’ day in a while, we can go to Caroline’s and the Gala’s coming up, you still need something to wear. We can go get that taken cared of afterwards.”

           Halley waited for him to unhand her, thinking about his offer as he looked at her expectantly. She crossed her arms again, popping her hip out as she made him wait anxiously for her answer. She blinked at him a few times, really letting her hesitation eat him up. Once she felt like he was punished enough, for now, anyways, she opened her mouth,

           “It is ‘Mandatory Sibling Bonding Time’.” She said without a specific tone to her voice. She felt herself smirking when Dick’s face lightened. Oh, how she would crush that look and smear it off his face, she thought sinisterly. “Jason comes with us or no deal. You’ll also have to get over whatever this is,” she said waving her hands in a circle at his person.

           Dick bit his lip, not sure he liked either of his ultimatums but he knew he had no other options. He couldn’t physically drag her out, she’d kick his ass. Not only her, but if Bruce and Alfred found out he took Halley out and left Jason, oh the reprimanding he’d get, more so from the butler than his adoptive father, but still. Unenthusiastically, he found himself nodding his head, making the deal with no other choice.

           His mood hadn’t changed, the group deciding on skipping Caroline’s and going straight to the Gotham Mall, figuring food court food would work just fine. He was glad when Jason suggested it, being that they’d be able to avoid the awkward silence that would find them if they went to an actual restaurant and had to wait to be sat and wait for the food. At least the food court was loud, already not a great place for conversation and it was a whole lot quicker.

           They took to the food court first, Dick settling with some pizza, while Halley and Jason decided to split a takeout container of Chinese food, both saying how they weren’t too hungry and the portions where enough for two. Dick sat next to Halley, Jason sitting across from her, both picking at the foam container in the middle of them.

           Dick felt his nerves rise as he heard Halley let out a sort giggle. He eyed her with wide eyes, he never heard her giggle before. His eyes narrowed when he saw the pair goofing around, Jason using his fork to steal whatever piece of chicken she tried picking up and stuffing it in his mouth. He felt the table move as she kicked Jason’s shin playfully. He wanted to comment but just took another of his pizza, willing himself to keep his mouth shut.

           Once they finished, Dick led the way, trying to remember the stores Kori suggested he try for Halley, having texted her for help when they left the manor. He was clueless with these types of things and knew Halley was too; this was probably going to be more of a disaster than it already felt but he’d try to keep his head on straight for Halley. Though, he found it more and more difficult too as they found themselves in some high scale dress shop, and Jason began shoving clothing at Halley to try on.

           “She is not wearing that.” Dick stated firmly, pulling the dress from the stack of clothes in Halley’s grasp. He put it back on the rack, giving Jason a warning look.

           “What’s wrong with it?” Jason tested, reaching for the hanger, putting it back on the stack.

           “Oh gee, I don’t know? The fact that it doesn’t have a back to it?” Dick said as if it was obvious, again taking the hanger once again and placing it back, this time putting his hands on Halley’s shoulders and making her move on.

           “It’s her first gala, she needs to look as flashy as all the Karen’s and Tiffany’s there.” Jason laughed, pulling another dress out. It was a less revealing dress, but apparently still too revealing as Dick shot him another warning look.

           “She’s fifteen. She doesn’t need to impress anyone.” Dick grumbled, pulling a dress of his own choice out. It was a navy blue, lacey dress with long sleeves and turtleneck neckline. He placed it on top of the pile where the dress Jason had chosen once sat.

           “She’s also right here to make her own choices.” Halley finally spoke up, already feeling overwhelmed by the clothes in her hands.

           She thought shopping with Kori was a lot, but this, this was awful. She looked at the dresses in her hands, trying not to drop any as she scanned her eyes over them. None of these caught her eye; they were all just dresses that Dick and Jason threw at her. She pushed the dresses to Dick, making him hold them instead of her. She then began to pick out the ones she knew she would absolutely not be trying on and shoved them to Jason’s chest.

           She was already freaking out about her first Gala, trying to not think about it since Alfred told her about it one morning during the car ride to school. If she was going to this thing she was going to try to be at least a little comfortable in her skin. She had worn dresses before but only maybe a handful of times while being undercover for a job, like the time her and her father had been hired to take down some emissary from Markovia. But this was different; this was her first time out officially as part of the Bruce Wayne’s family.

           “Do you need any help over here?” A woman approached them, eyeing as they had been roughly handling the merchandise.

           At first glance her and her co-workers were annoyed, seeing the teens and young adult carelessly handling the clothes but as she approached, she noted Dick and Jason, seeing them in the papers and knowing them as Bruce Wayne’s kids. She also heard about the new member of the family, and realized this must be her. Changing the look on her face, she let out a wide smile; she knew they had money to spend.  

           “Yeah, she needs a dress.” Jason said bluntly, jabbing a finger at Halley, somewhat annoyed that most of his choices had been the ones in the pile of clothes she tossed at him.

           “Oh, what’s the occasion?” The worker clasped her hands together.

           “Erm, a gala?” Halley said, thrown off by the woman’s sudden perkiness, remembering getting this same treatment during her first few weeks at Gotham Academy.

           “That’s exciting! I can help you find the perfect dress!” the woman exclaimed, beginning to lead Halley off to the back. She pointed to an area that had a bunch of plushy white chairs, looking to Dick and Jason before down to Halley, placing a manicured hand on her shoulder. “Your brother’s can wait over there while I show you our more appropriate selection of dresses for that kind of event!”

           Halley sent her ‘brothers’ a pleading and desperate look of help as the woman led her away. Dick and Jason chuckled after her, stopping when they realized that they were now left alone together. Begrudgingly, they walked to where the woman had pointed out. They slumped down into their own chairs, distracting themselves with their phones, trying everything in their power to not have to make conversation, occasionally looking up to see the worker hurriedly bring dresses and shoes into the fitting rooms behind them.

           “She’s probably freaking out.” Jason chuckled, cursing as he spoke out loud.

           “Yea, there’s no way she’d going to wear those.” Dick nodded, amused as the woman held a pair of shimmery pink heals.

           The pair gave each other a soft glare when they realized they talked to each other. They went right back into their chosen silence. Jason going back to his phone and scrolling through different articles on his phone, uninterestedly. Dick sighed, leaning back into the seat and letting his eyes people watch after looking at the time on his watch.

           Inside the dressing room, Halley felt herself begin to panic. This woman was worse than Dick and Jason, she thought with wide eyes. She stared at herself in the mirror after being in the dressing room for at least thirty minutes now. The dress she wore was gorgeous but she hated it on her. Her arms where still a little scarred and she felt naked as her they were on display. She zoomed in on them, deciding to start unzipping herself out of the dress. The scars weren’t all that noticeable, she could easily cover them up with make-up if she wanted but she just felt like they stuck out like a sore thumb.

           “I’m sorry, I don’t really like it-,” she lied; she actually really liked that dress.

           “Oh,” The woman trying to help her said, trying to hide her irritation but Halley could tell she was growing sick of her. She’d turned down every dress she offered. Certain ones were in fact ugly but there were exactly a handful that she actually really liked. The woman frowned, trying to figure out what the girl was exactly looking for now, seeing the pile of clothes she’d have to put away later, “What don’t you like about the dress?”

           Halley thought about it for a second, unsure what to say because there wasn’t really anything she hadn’t disliked. She liked the red, it made her paler skin look less pasty and more porcelain, almost like she was really a daughter of a billionaire. It hugged her forming figure well, not too tight but not baggy like how most of her wardrobe fit her. She could get over the arm thing or she hoped. It was a little to long for her taste, knowing she’d be tripping over the floor length gown all night if she wore it, especially with the heels she’d most likely be stuck wearing.

           “It’s too long.” She stated, staring at it before letting it fall off her and onto the floor.

           “Okay, I can work with that. I’ll be right back, I think I have it!” The worker said, stating that she’d be right back.

           Dick frowned as he saw the woman rushing out of the dressing room once again, with a new look of determination. Jason had since abandoned him, saying how he was going to go to the bathroom. That was about fifteen minutes ago and he had a feeling Jason wasn’t coming back anytime soon, not that it matter to Dick. He’d be sitting in silence regardless. He tapped his fingers on the arms on the chair as the woman walked past him again with a new dress in hand and some other accessories and stuff in hand.

           A few minutes later he heard a hushed voice calling his name. He looked up, turning his head towards the doorway to the fitting rooms. He raised an eyebrow as he saw Halley peeking her head out, noting the red lipstick that suddenly appeared on her lips. He looked at her in confusion, being thrown off by just that simple change in appearance. She looked frazzled, but somewhat excited? He realized he was frozen in place when she looked frustrated, waving him to come to her.  With a new face of concern at her look of urgency he rose from his spot. She disappeared into the room before he could get to her, finding himself moving a little faster.

           He turned the corner, feeling as if his jaw would hit the ground when he saw the girl standing in front of him and a large mirror. The woman who had been close to giving up helping the girl stood next to her. She was straightening out the bottom of the skirt of the dress, the hem ending just in the middle of her calf, standing once she was satisfied with her work. Halley stood facing the mirror, looking at her reflection with a look on her face that Dick never seen her wear before.

           Halley actually felt pretty for once; it felt weird. It felt so cliché but she didn’t know who the girl in the mirror was. Besides the neckline and length, the woman had come back with a dress similar to the one she had one previously. But there was something different about this one. For some reason this one gave her some level of confidence she never had but at the same time she felt so self-conscious about herself. It was so not her but it felt good looking at the girl in the mirror.

           She was staring at her bare arms and legs, instead at the skirt of the dress and the dark red heels that matched. The woman gave her a necklace but at the last minute decided it was too flashy, instead bringing red lipstick from the sales floor and applying it to the girl’s lips. She’d never worn lipstick before and she had no idea why she was liking it.

           She saw Dick standing a few feet behind her and blushed, turning around to look at him shyly. She wrapped her arms around herself suddenly feeling stupid for the way she was dressed.

           “Is this too much? Will it be okay?” She began fretting, silently thanking the woman who helped her as she left the room to give them a moment. “I mean it’s not terrible. The other ones were too much, but what do I know? Does this look terrible?” She stammered out, turning to face the mirror again, beginning to pick at the dress, eyes wide in an almost panic.

           Dick made his way over to her, gently taking her hands away from their tugging and let them stay in his. He saw her swallow, nervously looking at him. He made sure his face was calm, knowing she was freaking out on the inside. He took a good look at her again, finding himself smiling and feel a pang of pride as his eyes scanned her.

           “I think you look beautiful in it.” He said earnestly, somewhat pulling away to get a better look. “I think you should get it, you’ll be the best dressed there.” He confirmed with himself, nodding.

           “You think so?” She said softly, looking down at her feet in embarrassment.

           “Absolutely.” Dick nodded, letting go of her hands. He saw her give him a look a disbelief. He chuckled, turning back into in normal playful self, hating to see her be so hard on herself. “Honestly Halley, I love it.”

           “Okay,” Halley felt herself believing his words, looking to the side to get another peek in the mirror. She knew it was stupid to worry and gush this much over a dress, but she couldn’t stop herself from doing just that. She nodded with a grin, stepping away from him and the mirror and moved towards the fitting room. As she began to peel the dress off, she couldn’t help but feel some sort of excitement for the gala that was coming up.

           After she changed back to her regular clothes, she met Dick outside of the fitting rooms where they went up to the counter to pay for the dress along with her shoes and make-up that the woman gathered for her. She eyed the extra items, insisting that she didn’t need them upon hearing the price but Dick shushed her, pulling out Bruce’s credit card and waving his playfully in her face.

           They excited the shop, seeing Jason leaning against the doorway, with his hands in his pockets. He looked bored as anything, looking at them in relief. “About damn time, Jesus Christ that took like an hour- wait, are you wearing lipstick?”

            “Yes,” Halley’s hand flew up to cover her mouth, as Jason noticed her red stained lips. She felt her cheeks heat up again as he snickered at her.

           “You are you and what have you done to Halley?” He teased, ignoring Dick as he told him to stop. “I’m just messing, she knows that.” He laughed, rolling his eyes at Dick as they started walked towards the mall exit.

           Jason shot her another glance when she lowered her hand. He let his eyes look over her face, finding it as a good look on her. She looked kinda hot, he thought but immediately stopped himself. No, he rushed, she wasn’t.  She was adorable, yeah, adorable; that word felt a little bit better to him.  He definitely, one-hundred percent, did not think she was hot.

#Jason Todd #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd as robin #dick grayson #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x sister!reader #Dick Grayson x batsis #Batsis #batfam x batsis #batboys x batsis #bruce wayne x reader #batman fanfiction #deathstroke daughter #dc comics fanfic

[tropicalfreckles]

Friends Again CH 5

MASTER LIST found here

SUMMARY: A new dilemma has risen in Lydia that she takes to the only one she can talk to about it.

SOLIDARITY

B**TLEB*BES DNI

(TW mentions of J*no, mentions of murder(no murder tho), mentions of bullying, mentions of the wedding death scene)))

Another day of school, another day of Lydia having complex feelings bubble up in her stomach. This was getting borderline exhausting with all the thoughts she kept bottled up inside. Even though she had become more comfortable with her therapist, she still wasn't sure if she wanted to just spill her guts out about these thoughts. Closing the front door behind her, she swung her backpack off while exhaling a long groan. No one was home yet except for the Maitlands, of course. They were probably upstairs since she didn't see them after scanning the living room. Rummaging through her backpack on the table she pulled out things she needed for homework then sluggishly retreated upstairs. School wasn't engaging and often times left her yearning for more. The Maitlands had recently found a way to help make her learning more simulating through their ghostly powers. They were still learning themselves. They tried learning more from the Handbook for the Recently Deceased. However, as Adam put it, it 'read like radio instructions'. Lydia didn't have too much of a hard time understanding it personally. Though that probably was because she loved deciphering the nonsensical text.

Should she let the Maitlands know she's home?

She usually would announce herself. Yet, that feeling wasn't leaving her stomach. It dampening her mood. Lydia didn't want to bother the ghostly couple with her problem. Since she still didn't understand it entirely herself. It was days like these she wished her mom was still alive. Regret wove itself in her every once in a while for leaving the Netherworld. Missing her chance to reconnect with her mother again. She knew deep down it was for the best. She would've also liked it if Delia and her dad had waited for a while before getting wed. She understood though they felt the fleetingness of life and wanted to make the best of it as long as they both were breathing. That would be another can of worms for Lydia to tackle another day. Lydia tossed her things on her bed when she entered her room. Closing the door behind her then took off her shoes. Her nerves were starting to get the best of her when she walked over to her mirror and gazed at herself.

"Why are feelings stupid..." She muttered. Grabbing a hair tie off of her stand, she ran her fingers through the raven locks tying it up.

"That's because you breathers have too many feelings; It makes shit complicated." A gravely voice chimed in. Lydia flinched for a moment then turned to scowl at the older man.

"I told you that you couldn't come into the house yet!" She snarled at him. Lydia began rubbing the pads of her forefinger and middle in circles against the temple of her head. Beetlejuice snorted then crossed his arms.

"You ain't exactly the boss of me kid. I do what I want. Within reason of your dumb rules. Besides, I was bored waiting in the stupid cemetery. There weren't any breathers to mess with today so I couldn't get anyone else to say my name." Beetlejuice rambled on, giving Lydia a shrug. The young teen threw herself face first on her bed. She thought over for a moment how risky this was.

"You didn't let Barabara and Adam see you, right?" Lydia questioned, sitting up a little on her elbows. Beetlejuice hummed while pulling his eyes out from their sockets.

"Nope, not a peep!" He snickered while tossing them in the air like a pair of die. Lydia looked on unamused before rolling on her back to stare up at the ceiling. The demon popped his eyes back in.

"Oh boy, are you having one of those angsty teen moments again? Am I gonna have to leave while you recite goth poetry or some shit?" He floated up from the ground then whipped over to her. Lydia inhaled deeply before giving a loud groan.

"Go away if you're gonna be an ass." Lydia reached out for a pillow to grab. Beetlejuice tensed up as he knew it was meant for his face. He deflated a little when he saw her hug then bury herself against it. Just as the teen hated when he would get moody, he felt the same about her. Though it was strange, the past three months now that they've been hanging out he has started to feel something he never had before. Was it that gross thing called empathy? He sighed deeply while busying himself with picking at his nails. This was going to require some finesse.

"Alright, you twisted my arm Lyds. What's bugging ya? What can your ol' pal Mr. Betelboose do to, ugh, 'help'?" He peered from the corner of his eye to see if she'd budge. She did not. He did get a grunt in response. Some progress was a win for him. Lydia flailed her legs a little as a muffled groan rose from her. The demon patiently waited for her to speak.

"As bizarre as it is to say.." Lydia dug her fingernails into her pillow as she pulled it away from her face finally. Her features scrunched up, her lips pursed. Relaxing after a moment of what looked like deep contemplation from Beetlejuice's perspective she finally spoke. "I think you might be the only person I can talk to about this." Lydia softly spoke.

Now, this was interesting.

She was actually being vulnerable to him. He only saw her do that once and that was when she summoned him back from the Netherworld. That was because of everything that built up from before. This seemed to be a new dilemma on the young girl's mind. He waved his hand to let her know she could continue.

"Beej. When did you discover that you had feelings for guys, too?" Lydia drawled out while shiftily gazing around the room. Anywhere other than making eye contact. Beetlejuice stroked his scruffy chin while trying to figure out what she meant by that. Was there a boy she liked? Did his stoic bratty friend actually have sappy feelings as well?

Wait.

"You're asking how I knew I was into more than just women? Well, first off, there is one thing ya gotta know about the Netherworld. Most folks swing both if not all ways." Beetlejuice jokingly conjured up a baseball bat and took multiple swings in different directions with it. It earned him a snort which he grinned at before continuing.

"It kind of came as an easy realization for me. I know that the stupid shit you breathers go about here on the mortal plane carries off into the Netherworld sometimes. It doesn't stick for long cause who the hell are you gonna complain to? No one." He rolled his eyes remembering all of the bigoted folks that would come through and get their panties in a twist at how the rest of the Netherworld was. While he wasn't the biggest fan of staying there all the time it wasn't always horrible there. The world of the living was more of a party for him.

"How did you really know, though?" Lydia hugged the pillow closer to her while sitting up. Beetlejuice plopped himself onto the bed next to her. Lydia had a surprisingly smart melon in that goth head of hers. He was curious why she was doubting herself so much.

"Probably when I made out with that one famous painter." He picked at his teeth. Lydia arched a brow.

"Which one?"

"You know me, scarecrow, don't kiss and tell." He grinned at her. Lydia gently smacked his knee.

"Oh BS, you always name drop famous people." She snorted. Beetlejuice snickered, moving his hands behind him then slid back more on the bed.

"You're right, I just don't remember the guy's name right now. Listen. I guess I get it. I've been observing you breathers for almost a millennia. Feelings are gross. But I know when it comes to this stuff it can be hard. Especially for kids. If there's something ya gotta blab to me about." He tilted his head in her direction while making sure he had her attention. She gave a slow nod for him to continue, "Then I'm listening."

Lydia inhaled deeply. This was nerve-racking. She just didn't know how to even express herself.

"I... I might have." Lydia banged her head into the soft pillow and gave a small whine. "I might.. like a girl at school." She spoke barely above a whisper. Beetlejuice leaned over since he could barely hear her. Lydia wrinkled her nose at the smell yet allowed him to do so.

"What was that kid? Gotta speak up." He gave a coy smile. Lydia scowled at him then looked away.

"I said... That I might like a girl at school. I'm not repeating myself again." Her cheeks were heating up at how embarrassing this was. Not so much expressing her feelings. It was more talking about a damn school crush to her stupid demon friend she was starting to make amends with. She looked over to him after a moment of making sure he wasn't going to tease her then noticed him grinning wide.

"Yeah, that's what I thought you said. HA. Of course, you're into girls! Look at you, you're tiny, snarky all the time and goth." Beetlejuice yammered on as he elbowed her side.

"Ha-ha, is this amusing to you or something? I just spilled my damn guts out." Lydia frowned, her cheeks flushed. Beetlejuice shook his head.

"Eh, maybe a little, I just find it funny that widdle Lydia has a crush. Always figured you were too feral and hated people too much for that." He pinched her cheek. She was close to snapping her teeth at his fingers. She opted for batting his hand away. Lydia wiped her cheek with her sleeve. He snickered in response then rested his elbows on his knees.

"Call me 'widdle' again and I'll throw you off the roof as I did before." She stuck her tongue out at him then took note of him smirking at her. "What?"

"Nuthin'. Just weird seeing you actually act like a teenager instead of your usual dry, deadpan self." He patted her hard on the back to which she grunted at him. "Good for you! Better to be your real self than locking that shit away. Dolores and Chuck'll probably be. I don't know, what's that word you breathers use now? 'Woke'? About this. I know the Maitlands will be. Ugh, they are just soooo supportive it's disgusting." He gagged at his last sentence to which Lydia rolled her eyes.

"I don't know if I'm going to tell anyone. At least not yet." Lydia softly spoke as she played with the pillow resting in her lap. Beej quirked a brow at her then snorted. He gave a soft bap on her head with his fist.

"Listen. I don't normally give pep talks that aren't about scaring, murder or crap. I guess I can try to understand. Daphne might be too intrusive about it. Chuck might just be super awkward about it and say something embarrassing. The other nerds are definitely gonna dote on you." Beetlejuice picked at his teeth. "Eh, take your time if you wanna. Just know that the Netherworld when ya shed your meat-sack body is gonna be fine with who or what yer into. Fuck what anyone else thinks." He let out a long yawn then stretched a little. "Trying to be nice makes me wanna take a nap or doing something nasty. Or hurl. Can't decide, this is gross."

Lydia looked over the demon while taking note of his words. She snickered at him dramatically pretending to upheave then shoved him.

"Stop being gross for five minutes." Lydia snorted then sat back on her bed finally letting go of her pillow. "Honestly.. My stomach is in a knot still. Part of me kind of wants to tell her however I don't want people to.." Midway through Lydia trailed off into a soft whisper. "I just don't want more of a reason for people to target me at school. I can handle myself for the most part. Just kind of hard when they gang up on me." She tugged at the edge of her school uniform. Without skipping a beat Beetlejuice responded.

"Want me to kill 'em for ya? I mean, if they're that big of lil assholes I'd probably be doing their parents a favor." Beetlejuice grinned while taking out a knife from his sleeve. "I'll 'cut' them down to size!" He cackled while swishing the knife around. Lydia ducked down then snorted.

"No. Murder isn't the answer to everything, BJ. Those girls are jerks but they aren't the root of the problem. Kids don't naturally act like bigoted brats. It's probably coming from their parents or something, to begin with." Lydia grabbed his arm to make him stop swinging the knife. Beetlejuice clicked his tongue then thought over what she said.

"Alright. Kill the parents and the brats. Two for two-plus no sad little orphans!" Beetlejuice hovered off the bed in glee while throwing his arms up into the air. "It'll be a real scream Lyds! Just let me loose on 'em! Come on! I haven't killed anyone since Juno!" He flexed his fingers while looking to her like an overjoyed child in a candy store. Lydia raised her hand up with a shake of her head.

"Didn't I just say murder wasn't the answer to everything?" She answered dryly while quirking a brow at him.

"I don't know, you murdered me pretty fast to try and kick my ass into the Netherworld," Beetlejuice muttered. Lydia inhaled deeply through her nostrils then slapped his thigh with her pillow.

"I'm serious. No murdering people on my behalf. I appreciate the enthusiasm but I don't want the cops on me. Making people suffer is more fun anyway." Lydia dropped the pillow then stretched her legs out. Beetlejuice floated back down to the bed then gave a little pout.

"Bah. Thought you were more fun than that, kid. Though torture also sounds like a blast." He stroked his scruffy chin. The goth teen kicked her feet against the edge of the bed.

"I was thinking more about pranking." She chuckled. "You know.. I might try talking to that girl. Just not yet." Lydia lulled her head against her shoulder to peer back at the demon. "I hate to stroke that big ego of yours. I wanna tell you that I kind of appreciate you talking to me about this. It's nice to talk to someone else who is attracted to the same gender." She took out her phone then opened the browser.

"Plus I see myself as more than one gender. Though that's a topic for another time, kid." He waved his hand as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Lydia swung her head up to stare at him.

"Oh; does that mean you're genderfluid?"

"Gender what now?" Beetlejuice quizzically stared at her while scratching the top of his scalp. Lydia quickly brought something up on her phone then showed him.

"You identify as more than one gender. See?" Lydia began scrolling through a website about the LGBTQ+ community while Beetlejuice crossed his arms and tried reading over it.

"Huh. Well shit. Guess so? Then what's being attracted to more than one gender?" He quickly snatched the phone out of her hand to look over it more.

"Well, that is a broader category. You could be either Bisexual or Pansexual." She sat up on her knees as she pressed the pad of her forefinger into the screen. Slowly she scrolled back up on the browser and pointed out the two. Beetlejuice hummed then plopped the phone back into her lap.

"Learn something new every day!" Beetlejuice grinned. The two froze when they heard the familiar voice of a woman echoing through the house.

"Lydia?? Are you home? We can get started on your homework if you want!" Barbara's hand began phasing through the door. With that Beetlejuice flung himself out the window as Lydia swatted grave dirt he left behind on her bed.

"Coming Barbara!" Lydia called.

She couldn't keep hiding him forever.

#beetlejuice #lydia deetz #chaos siblings #beetlejuice bway #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice musical #friends again #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice fanfic #my writings

[jenonctcity]

Chances - Part 6

Na Jaemin/Huang Renjun – Fluff/Angst

Ex-husband!Jaemin/Husband!Renjun

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: None.

Request: Requested by anon – Your past with Jaemin, the pregnancy, the divorce, and how you meet and marry Renjun.

A/N: Just in case this is confusing for anyone, this is part of the Chances series. It does go with the current story of Chances and is going to be set out like a timeline of the events that happened before the series took place. However, it can be read as a standalone piece or like a prequel. But I would recommend checking out the other parts of this series if you get confused. Hope you enjoy!

 Meeting Jaemin:

University was kicking your ass. Between your daily classes and your demanding job at a restaurant, you were left feeling tired and emotionally drained. You didn’t have a choice but to carry on though, money being tight and your education costing you far too much money to skip any nugget of information they were willing to provide you. You had little to no social life, the only person you really interacted with was with your roommate, who herself wasn’t much of a talker. Loneliness consumed you at all the wrong times, it mostly happened late at night after a shift at the restaurant. You’d tuck yourself into bed and let out a sigh, wishing you could cross the room and nudge your roommate awake for a chat. But you didn’t know the girl well enough to do that and you were almost certain it would make her dislike you.

The day you tripped down a couple of steps at university from not paying attention to your feet as much as someone as tired as you were should have, was the day that changed your life. Your wrist was causing agony to throb through your nerves, all your pain receptors on red alert and forcing you to call in sick to work to head to the emergency room. It was absolutely heaving with people of all ages due to it being a Friday evening. There were only 3 seats left available and you weighed up your options as you studied the people, they were situated next to. A drunk couple who both had similar cuts on their foreheads, you could only assume they’d done something highly dumb to end up with those injuries. An old man who was slouching into the free seat next to him as he started dozed off, his eyes dark underneath like he hadn’t slept in weeks. He looked like he tried to fight off sleep until he started to have a coughing fit, sitting up straight and coughing into his hands. And finally, a young man who had bleached blonde hair dyed a light pink, dressed from head to toe in a black adidas tracksuit, his arms folded across his chest and his knee jittering as he waited. You were unaware what he was waiting to be seen for as you couldn’t see any physical injuries on him, but as you looked between all three options again, you decided he was the lucky winner.

You quickly approached him, hugging your wrist to your chest as you cleared your throat, gaining his attention as he looked up at you.

“Is this seat taken?” You asked, smiling weakly at him.

“No, go ahead.” He copied your smile, watching you for a moment as you sat beside him. You looked around the emergency room, trying to find something remotely entertaining to watch, also regretting that you didn’t bring the book you’d been trying to finish for the past 2 months with you. “What did you do to your wrist? Or is it your hand?” You heard the boy ask you, his voice deep and his tone was warm.

“I er…tripped down some stairs.” You looked at him and laughed softly. “Not my finest moment.” You winced as you jostled your wrist by accident when you moved it to your lap instead of cradling it to your chest. “What are you in here for? You don’t look like you did something dumb and injured yourself.” You tried to joke with him, this being your only form of entertainment. The longer you looked at the handsome boy the more you became self-conscious of you what you assumed was your messy state. You hadn’t actually seen your reflection since you’d left your dorm that morning, but you presumed your hair had gotten messier, and your mascara had smudged from the tears you’d shed upon your unexpected meeting with the hard ground.

“Oh no I’m not here for me, I’m just here as support.” He flashed you a wide smile, motioning to the boy sitting beside him whose eyes were swollen shut. “Dummy over here forgot about his hay fever allergies and went running through a field of flowers like Bambi on crack.” He sniggered when his friend reached out to hit him but missed due to his lack of eyesight. Merely swiping at the air and just missing someone as they walked past.

“Hey! just because I can’t see doesn’t mean I can’t hear, you ass.” His friend whined, folding his arms over his chest like a disgruntled child. You giggled at the two of them, your eyes feeling crusty from the dried tears when your smile reached your eyes.

“Pipe down Jeno, you’re lucky I brought you here and didn’t just leave you to blindly make your way here after you drank my banana milk.” Jeno didn’t reply, only sinking further into his seat as he sulked. Jaemin turned his head back to you and smiled again, his eyes raking over the span of your face and he couldn’t help but think about how naturally beautiful you looked. Even if you did have smudged eye makeup and needed to comb your hair. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you (Y/N), I’d shake your hand, but I kind of can’t right now.” He smiled warmly when his attempt of a joke made you giggle.

“Maybe some other time.” You didn’t realise what your words insinuated even after you’d said them. But he noticed straight away, nodding his head eagerly.

“I hope so…I’m Jaemin.”

 The Pregnancy:

Your relationship with Jaemin had been going strong for the past 7 years. In that time, you’d both finished your education and secured jobs that were not only financially stable, but also gave you good amounts of time to be together, unlike the jobs you both held back when you first met and started dating. On your five-year anniversary, Jaemin had popped the question to you and within a year you were named Mrs Na.  You also both agreed to move out of your cosy – Jaemin would call it cramped, but you preferred cosy – apartment, and move into one with more room for your family to grow. It started off with the two of you getting a hamster, which Jaemin wanted to name Megatron Fire Blaze, but you shot that idea down with a death stare and the hamster ended up being named Tony.

A few months after your seven-year anniversary you’d dropped the pregnancy bomb onto Jaemin. He was thrilled and wasn’t too proud to admit he bawled his eyes out like teenage girl watching a sad movie about a tragic love story. Your pregnancy was going smoothly apart from the tiny feet that would aggressively kick your insides every now and then. You were also certain your baby was learning to tap dance and using your bladder as its dance floor, also, the uncomfortable and inconvenient need to pee was starting to drive you insane.

“What do you think of the name Sooyoung for if it’s a girl?” Jaemin asked, neither of you facing each other as you laid with your back pressed to his chest in the bed. The turned down sound of a movie neither of you were paying attention to on the television acted as background noise as you both focussed more on your conversation. Despite both of you having your eyes trained onto the movie, neither of you could tell someone what was going on with the storyline if asked.

“Hmm…no I’m not feeling it.” You sighed in annoyance, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. “Our baby is never going to have a name at this rate, I just don’t like any names anyone is suggesting!” Jaemin remained silent for a moment, not being able to see much of your face from the angle he was laying at.

“You’re not going to cry are you…?” He was still learning to deal with the crazy ways your hormones would affect your moods. It still baffled him how one second you could be laughing at a funny post you’d seen on twitter and then the next you were crying about how you couldn’t reach the remote for the tv without getting up from the comfort of the sofa. He would often think back to the time Jeno commented on how your hair looked really full and colourful during your pregnancy and instead of taking it as a compliment you’d started crying in Jaemin’s arms, stating how horrible your hair must look normally and how you were just going to shave it off. Jeno had paled and immediately tried to backtrack on his words. The poor boy feeling the wrath of your pregnancy hormones. He tried not to laugh at the memory when you were around, just in case you asked him why he was laughing.

“No…” You bottom lip wobbled as you tried to hold it together, willing the tears to go away.

“What about…Joohyun? Seulgi?” You elbowed Jaemin in the ribs gently, causing him to groan as you turned to face him with your eyebrows pulling into a scowl.

“Now you’re just naming the members of Red Velvet!” He looked like a deer caught in the headlights as you caught onto his idea.

“Sorry!” He paused as he racked his brains, his lips pouting as his thoughts ran wild. “I like Mihyun.”

“Mihyun…” The name rolled off your tongue nicely as you repeated it again and again before concluding. “I love it, if our baby is a girl its Mihyun.” You smiled warmly, snuggling into Jaemin’s hold as much as you could with your big bump in the way. You both remained quiet for a while before Jaemin piped up.

“If it’s a boy, he shall be named Optimus Prime.”

“We are not naming our baby after a transformer!!!”

 The Divorce:

Na Mihyun was born on the 3rd of August. You and Jaemin had never felt more overjoyed and filled with love as what you did when you held the tiny infant in your arms for the first time. The second Jaemin heard the shrill cries of his daughter, the tears he couldn’t keep in rolled down his cheeks from pent up emotions popping like an overfilled balloon. Neither one of you could wait to take home the little life that was a symbol of your love for one another. However, things started to go sour within weeks.

The first argument was caused from Jaemin going out late with a few of his work friends. It didn’t bother you that he was going out and having fun, what bothered you was the text he sent you at 11pm that read ‘Will be another hour, don’t wait up’ after he’d promised you he’d be in before 11. It sent a spark of irritation amongst your body, but you tried to ignore it, knowing he had every right to go out and have some fun after being cooped up at home for the past few months with you. The hour passed and there was still no sign of Jaemin. After another half an hour you decided to call him, but he didn’t answer. Anxiety acted like a flood around you as the thought of him being hurt raided your mind, and the stress of being a new mother on your own and losing your husband began to make you sink in the pool on anxiety. You drowned in the feeling and it brought on a panic attack. You thanked god that Mihyun hadn’t woken up during that time, not knowing if you could have coped. He stumbled into the apartment at 4am, waking up your new-born and the anger pent up inside you. You gave him the silent treatment for a day before a big argument blew up, harsh words exchanged between you.

More arguments ensued throughout the next couple of months. Arguments over petty things, and you found that the two of you would argue for the sake of arguing at times. Leading to Jaemin spending most nights sleeping on the sofa, a hostile air between the two of you. You were miserable. And you didn’t want to feel like that when you should be enjoying your baby girl’s life. You didn’t want Jaemin feeling that way either. With the headspace you were in, you didn’t think there was any other options other than to go your separate ways.

“Jaemin, I need to talk to you.” You’d cornered him in the kitchen where you’d just come from your bedroom after putting Mihyun down for her afternoon nap.

“About what?” You longed for the days when his tone was soft, bringing comfort to you when you needed it the most. You’d already had a disagreement that morning, so his tone was unfriendly towards you. He turned to look at you from where he was making a sandwich on the kitchen counter, furrowing his eyebrows at your face as you silently cried. You heart breaking at the words you were about to drop on him.

“I can’t do this anymore…what happened to us? We hardly ever act like a loving couple anymore Jaemin and we can’t agree on anything anymore. I don’t want to fight every day; I just want a peaceful life with my daughter.” You gulped, starting to sob as you shook your head. His stomach sank, unease settling in the pit of his gut as he knew what you were about to say. “I want a divorce.”

“(Y/N) no…please we can work on this!” He abandoned his half-made sandwich, feeling numb and not knowing what to do other than to beg you to stay with him. “Baby don’t leave me.” He rushed to you, trying to take your hands in his own but you snatched them away, shaking your head and taking a step back.

“No…please just pack your things and go.”

“But I still love you…” He whispered, his voice cracking as a sob left his lips. You sighed, turning your back to him.

“Go.”

 Meeting Renjun:

Your divorce went through a lot quicker than you expected, and within a few months you were back to being a Miss. Life as a single mother was surprisingly easier than you thought, but that was probably because Mihyun was only just half a year old and had only just mastered the art of sitting up on her own. She had started to teeth also, which meant many sleepless nights for you, but you didn’t care because she was your only priority. You knew times would get tougher as she got older, but you couldn’t worry about it until it happened. After you and Jaemin separated, you both decided neither of you should keep the apartment, and you both moved into your own apartments. So even after living your new home for a month, you were still in the midst of decorating the place to your standards, loving that no one could tell you what you could and couldn’t put up on the walls. You did miss Jaemin, but you didn’t dwell on the feeling, knowing it wasn’t mentally healthy for you to live in the past when you had a whole fresh start ahead of you.

The apartment building you moved into was a new build, so all the apartments were slowly getting filled up with residents. All morning you could hear scuffling noises coming from the previously empty apartment next-door, so you assumed someone now occupied the living space. You went on with your day as you normally would, entertaining Mihyun as she tried to crawl around. In the end you put her in her walker, letting her cruise around the apartment to her own free will. You were engrossed in a silly tv programme that made little to no sense when a knock echoed through the halls.

“One Second!” You called out as you rose from the sofa, noting that Mihyun was fine in her walker. “You going to follow mumma?” You giggled when she grinned at you with her new front teeth, waddling after you in the confines of her walker. You smiled when you opened the door, met with an attractive man who looked to be around your own age. He had dark brown hair with matching brown eyes, his smile warm as he bowed to you.

“Hello! I just moved in next door, so I thought I’d come introduce myself.” He motioned his head towards his apartment as he spoke. “My name is Renjun.” He held his hand out to you and you quickly shook his hand with a smile. You detected an accent as he spoke Korean but couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was.

“I’m (Y/N), its nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, is it just you living here?” You noticed his glance at your hand, missing the slight raise of his eyebrows when he saw no wedding ring on your finger.

“No actually, I have this little terror living here too.” You opened the door wider to reveal your daughter, still sat in her walker and staring up at Renjun with wide curious eyes.

“Oh look at you!” He gasped, crouching down to her height and admiring the beauty of the baby. “What’s her name?”

“Mihyun.” You smiled in pride as you watched him coo over your child.

“Hi princess, aren’t you beautiful?” He chuckled when she pointed a hand at him and starting to giggle at him.

“She already likes you.” You folded your arms across your chest and leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m glad I have her approval.” He looked up at you with a soft smile, standing back up to his full height. “Well if you need anything then you know where I live.” He nodded his head at you, his eyes lingering on your face. You blushed, bowing to him.

“Thank you, same to you too.” You said your goodbyes and he headed back to his apartment. “Did you like him my little pickle?” You plucked Mihyun out of her walker to hold her to your chest. “He was nice wasn’t he?”

 Marrying Renjun:

A month after you’d met Renjun for the first time, he’d asked you out on a date. You hadn’t told Jaemin when he’d come to pick up Mihyun for the night, not wanting him to get upset about you moving on so quickly. At first you were hesitant whether to go on a date at all, but you didn’t want to let the opportunity of dating someone as lovely and kind as Renjun pass up. So, you took the plunge, went on a date with Renjun, and had an amazing night that you’d never forget. When Renjun proposed to you on your one-year anniversary, you took a week to give him your answer. Hesitant at first about marriage purely for the purpose that you’d already been married once and that hadn’t worked out. But after some deep thought and a long conversation with Jaemin about what went wrong in your marriage to him, you said yes. 10 months later you walked down the aisle and married Renjun, labelling him as the love of your life in your wedding vows. You didn’t know this, but Jaemin winced when he heard you say that. He went to your wedding despite the ache it caused in his heart, only going to show his support to you and not wanting gossip going around about his absence if he didn’t go.

You also moved apartments again. Renjun and you both moving into another apartment that was slightly bigger with the hopes of expanding your family at some point. Although you didn’t like that someone else now had a say in what you decorated the apartment with. Mihyun loved having Renjun living with you, him spoiling her with everything she wanted as soon as she told him her wanted it. He was good at acting like a father, but he knew he’d never take her own fathers place, which he didn’t want to do. But he loved her like she was his own flesh and blood, and he’d do anything for her. You hoped that this marriage was the start to your dream life, but you treasured everything you had with Jaemin. The highs and lows taught you things and gave you an experience that you’d never forget.

#nct #nct dream #na jaemin #huang renjun #nct jaemin #nct renjun #nct dream jaemin #nct dream renjun #nct huang renjun #nct na jaemin #nct dream huang renjun #nct dream na jaemin #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #ex-husband!jaemin #husband!renjun #nct reactions #nct dream reactions #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios

[twokinkybeans]

Jar Of Dirt Chapter 11: Hot Red [Starker Fanfiction NSFW/18+]

Kink/Sexual Warnings: Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Lingerie, Lipstick/Gloss, Sex Toys, Teasing, Anal, Slight Exhibitionism Other Warnings: None

All Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11 . . . Masterpost (More to come!) 

---

Chapter 11: Hot Red Peter’s humming happily as he stuffs his backpack with everything he might need this weekend. The sweet Italian tune has been stuck in his head ever since they got back from the island last weekend. Ned’s sitting on Peter’s bed, his back propped against the wall. Ned doesn’t go home every single weekend and he always complains how he wants Peter to stay as well. He doesn’t like how quiet it is without him there. 

Next weekend, he’d promised his best friend. Next weekend he’ll skip out on his boyfriend to stay the weekend with Ned to go out partying, studying together, maybe some gaming. It’s been too long since he’s done that. “Pete?” “Hmmm?” “You actually love him. Don’t you?” Ned’s voice is so serious it has Peter stop pushing his sweatpants into the already fully stuffed bag. He looks at the other boy, slowly nodding. “I… I do? Why?” Ned shrugs. “At first I figured it might just be some,” Ned waves his hands into the air, “-some power trip thing or whatever. Just fucking, y’know? Kinda like your Poe crush,” The other student sighs grinning at the memory and Peter looks down trying to hide his blush. Yes, Dameron had starred in many of his late teenage fantasies - the poster still very much taped to the wall next to his Tony Stark one. “Nevermind, I just wanted to tell you how happy I am for you, dude.” “Thanks, man,” Peter answers softly, a warm feeling spreading in his chest as he pushes the Star Wars comment out of his head. He’s happy to hear that his best friend is actively accepting his relationship. It’s not like he hadn’t noticed Ned’s confused expression when he first told him. He understood that. No one really got it in the beginning. How could a rich, famous man like Tony Stark ever want more than just sex from an awkward college kid like himself? It’d seemed highly unlikely. Even Peter had had his doubts the first few weeks. However, over the course of their time together, it’d become very clear that this was so much more. With every passing day, Peter had more trouble remembering what it’d been like to be single. “That means a lot.”

“You should ask him over next weekend.” “What?” Peter’s eyes widen and he snorts - an image in his head showing him Tony sitting on his bed, eating chips and gaming with them. “You can’t be serious.” “I am. I’m your best friend , he’s your boyfriend or whatever. You’ve been hanging out in his luxurious wealth for whoever knows how long. Don’t you think it’s time for him to come spend time in our world?” Peter’s quiet for a moment. Ned might actually be onto something here. Peter enjoys every single minute he spends at Tony’s place, but it’s a very different life. Sometimes, it almost feels as if he’s living two separate lives. He’s not very secretive about either one of them, but they’re not yet… Merging.   “Are you sure?” Ned nods happily, handing him his phone charger. Peter scrunches his nose, not sure if it still fits in the backpack. He decides to lose a few of his shirts and then pulls the zipper down, sighing happily. “Alright, I’ll ask him.” “Sick.”

-

Peter’s nervous to ask Tony. So he waits. For now. He’ll ask when the moment’s right. Tony’s sauntering around the kitchen, trying to cook for the both of them. Peter’s seated on the barstool, going over his notes once more. He has to give a presentation next Monday and he decided to practice as often as possible this weekend. Tony points at him with the big kitchen knife as Peter mumbles something about the way vortices would’ve scattered superfluid spacetime according to professor Mazur. “That theory, kid, has not exactly been proven true or false yet.” “I know,” Peter mumbles, “-we don’t have to talk about reliability. It’s about the way theories arise and how they influence other ones.” “That sounds… Philosophic.” “Yup, it is. It’s fun though, we get to explore so many theories like this! Do you know just how many possibilities there are, Mr. Stark? If, for example, Mazur’s theory would actually be true, okay? Do you see how that influences our work as Avengers?” Peter’s eyes are wide and passionate and it has Tony smile proudly. “You mean how it’d influence the expansion of the universe?” “Exactly!” “Well, when you finish this project, tell me about your conclusion.” “Oh, I will.”

Peter scribbles down a basic overview of how to set up the presentation itself and puts his books down when Tony carefully places two plates on the countertop. Peter raises his eyebrows as he lifts up to watch what Tony’s made. “Wow, that actually looks like food,” he grins and Tony waves the comment off. “Hush, kid, I can only have so many talents.” Peter snorts at the comment and pulls the plate towards him, grabbing the cutlery with his other hand and diving right in. It’s a simple pasta made with frozen spinach and pesto and smoked salmon and Peter loves it. “I mean it, though. You’re improving. This is great,” Peter says before stuffing his mouth with yet another spoonful. “Thanks, sweetness.”

-

“Soooo,” Tony says nonchalantly, his legs propped up on the coffee table. “-I’ve got an idea.” “Oh?” “Hmmm, why don’t you get the jar out? I added two new notes this week.” Peter stares at Tony’s face. God. He’s serious. Peter’s cheeks flush at the idea of Tony wanting to try even more stuff with him. So far, they’ve had so much fun already. His head’s nearly spinning at the idea of their being so many more things they can still explore. “Still in the lab?” “Uh-huh.” “Alright. Don’t move,” Peter grins. He doesn’t know why he’s feeling so energetic today, but he is, so he jumps up and takes the stairs down to the lab instead of the elevator. Too giddy to stand still. He waves at Dum-E before grabbing the jar. Obviously, he knows the robot doesn’t have feelings, but sometimes it feels like he does and Peter doesn’t want to be disrespectful just in case. Heck, F.R.I.D.A.Y. understands freaking sarcasm. Who knows what Dum-E responds to. Maybe Peter needs the robot one day, he better have Dum-E get used to him.

“Alright, I’ve got it!” Peter exclaims as he walks back into the living room. “I would’ve spanked you if you’d come in empty-handed,” Tony mutters growling, actually surprising himself and blushing at his words. He sends Peter a sheepish smile. “Oops, think I just gave one away.” “You want to spank me?” “Someday, yeah. Only if you want to, though.” Tony shrugs, trying to stay composed. But the dark, hungry look in his eyes is evident and it makes Peter hot all over. He smiles at him. Tony doesn’t usually ‘slip’ whatever’s on his mind. Meaning he’s starting to feel comfortable around Peter and it has the boy’s heart flutter. He can’t shake the feeling that maybe they’re getting to a point where they won’t necessarily need the jar to talk about their fantasies anymore. The thought alone makes his groin tingle. “I’ll think about it, daddy.” Meaning: I’m willing to try. “We’ll see about it once we pick it from the jar, alright?” Tony nods slowly, his lips curling into a smirk as he catches upon Peter’s thoughts. And excitement. “Perfect.”

Peter sits down on the couch next to Tony, the jar resting in his lap. He’s not exactly sure who picked the last time. Well, Dum-E did obviously, but before that. He doesn’t remember. It doesn’t necessarily matter either, so he takes the lid off and sticks it out to Tony. The older man smiles, reaching in and grabbing a note right away. No cheating. No evading. He takes his hand out again and carefully unfolds the piece of paper while Peter puts the jar down Tony gasps and Peter squeezes his lips together anxiously. Yes, he’s getting more comfortable too, but that doesn’t mean that not knowing what’s coming up isn’t nerve-racking. “Peter, baby, we are such a perfect match,” Tony whispers, voice hoarse as he turns the note around.

Lingerie

“Lingerie,” the boy whispers, blushing and pursing his lips. Fuck. “It’s one of your own, Pete, why aren’t you happy?” Tony frowns, discarding the note and grabbing Peter’s hands in his own. His thumbs rubbing over the back of Peter’s hands gently. “Well…” Peter pauses and looks away, his face contorted as he tries to sort his thoughts. “I’m not sure if, uhm, this is the right time.” “Why not?” “I- eh…” Peter turns bright red. “I don’t have any lingerie. I-I was eyeing a set online but it’s expensive and with your birthday I couldn’t save enough to buy it, I’m still saving up, so-” “Peter.” Tony cocks an eyebrow, interrupting his boy. He tilts his head, taking a deep breath. He knows Peter doesn’t like to have conversations about Tony’s money but this situation calls for it. He looks at the black credit card that’s been laying on one of the bookshelves for weeks, waiting for Peter to pick it up still. Peter’s lip trembles, catching up on what Tony is trying to say, but it takes him a few seconds before the kid breathes out a shaky sigh and musters up the courage to ask his question. “Tony, uhm. Can we… Maybe go shopping together?”

“Yes,” comes Tony’s instant answer. Finally. He understands why Peter doesn’t want to spend Tony’s money. Why he wants to try to work through everything by himself. But this is lingerie. Not just lingerie, obviously, but very different than his ex who wanted to buy his own apartment within the first week of them being in a relationship. God. Red flag. A few sets of nice lace panties is nothing compared to the numbers on Tony’s bank account. He wouldn’t even notice. He wants to treat Peter. Perhaps the boy had been right all these weeks ago. “You’re such a Sugar Daddy, you know that right?” Well, better live up to it then. “I would love that, Peter. So much.” Peter gives him the cutest little smile and Tony groans happily. “You’re going to look amazing.” “You think so?” “Mhhmm, got hard just thinking about it.” Peter grins, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes when he sits upright and crawls into Tony’s lap. “Maybe, we can have some fun then? Shopping mall’s closed till tomorrow morning anyway.” “Hmm, c’mere, my sweet boy. Daddy wants to eat you out.”

-

When they get to the store, Peter’s so nervous. He stares at the Victoria’s Secret logo and gulps. “Are you sure we should do this, I’m a guy.” He whispers as he peeks inside the store. There’s literally only women in there. And a couple of bored boyfriends. If he walks in, everyone will know how odd he is. “What if there’s someone who recognizes us, Tony?” “Shh, it’ll be okay. I know it doesn’t seem that way, but you’re not the only male walking in here to buy something pretty for themselves. Believe me.” Peter looks inside again and sighs. He does want this. Not wanting to buy anything online. He wants to make sure it fits perfectly before spending Tony’s money. “Uhm. Mr. Stark?” “Yes, honeybunch?” Just as the Italian tune, the name stuck with them. “I- I think I want to go in alone? They won’t recognize me as easily, and… Then it’ll be a surprise for you?” Peter’s voice is nearly trembling and Tony gives him a gentle kiss on his forehead. He would’ve loved to be there, but he gets the reasoning so he gives Peter a slight nod. “I’ll go get myself a coffee then. You want some?” “N-Nah, I’m good. Thanks, Tony.” “Of course, now, go for it, sweetness. Can’t wait to see what you’ll choose.” Peter smiles at him, giving him a quick kiss before turning around and actually walking into the shop. He’s been to fucking space. Sure he can take on something as mundane as this. Something so mundane that some people can lose their shit about it, that is.

It’s a bit weird at first, walking in the shop, but soon enough he’s sorting through all the different shapes and colors. The soft, lacey fabrics sliding through his fingers. There’s so much and he has no clue where to start. “Peter Parker, is that you?” Peter squeezes his eyes shut. He recognizes that voice right away. He mouths a quick ‘fuck’ before turning around, trying to put a smile on his face. “Oh, uhm, hi, MJ!” “What are you doing here, loser,” she grins jokingly and walks up to hug him tightly. “Haven’t seen you in ages!” “N-no, yeah, uhm, y’know, just hanging around,” he stutters. “So good to see you!” MJ raises her eyebrows and looks at Peter’s hand, still lingering on one of the black lace panties. He quickly takes his hand back, but it’s clear she knows what he’s up to. She nods slightly, eyeing him carefully before continuing. “You need any help getting pretty for your man? I sure know my stuff.” Peter’s at a loss for words at her kindness. Her smirk is obvious, but her eyes are sweet and caring. Seeing her here makes him realize how much he missed hanging out with her. “That… Would be nice?” “Figured. All right. You like lace then?” She eyes his hips once more and skillfully rummages through all the different pieces before she makes a satisfied noise and picks one for him. “Think this should fit you just fine. You need stockings too?”

Half an hour later, MJ made him try out a bunch of different styles and types. Peter needed a little time to loosen up first, but, MJ is actually is an amazing help. She’d been right stating she knows her stuff on this. He ends up with three different panties, fishnet stockings, and a garter belt, because “Tony won’t be able to resist that. Believe me, pretty boy.” It all fits him perfectly and it has him buzzing with excitement. “I’m just gonna get what I need for myself,” MJ smiles, “-you go pay for these and I’ll meet you outside? I don’t need more than 5 minutes.” “Of course!” So that’s how Peter ends up in the line. He feels some of the customers stare at him but he tries his best to ignore it all. He’s checking the sales boxes to divert his attention and his gaze falls upon a box with all different types of fruit-flavored lip gloss. Fuck him. He grabs one quickly, not even paying attention to the flavor in the hopes that no one will see it.

“That’ll be $97,99, please.” Peter takes a deep breath as he swipes the black credit card, his credit card past the card reader and swallows when he sees the approval sign. It’s official. He just spent nearly a hundred dollars on lingerie and it feels strange and exhilarating. He’s never spent this much on something that’s not a necessity, let alone using someone else’s money. God. He felt bad enough asking May for a new backpack each time. But he needed those. This… This is for fun and he doesn’t know how to even grasp that this is his life now. He waits for MJ and smiles as they walk out of the store together. He wonders how they haven’t been hanging out anymore. Of course, they don’t live at the same campus, but they should meet more often. He’s missed her. "So, Parker, you want to grab a drink or what?” MJ grins. “Uhm, yeah! I’d love to, it’s just that Tony’s actually waiting for me at the coffee bar at the other side of the mall, so-” “Awesome, I’d love to meet your man. Let’s go!”

-

To Peter’s surprise, MJ and Tony got along so well that they spent the entire afternoon hanging out at the coffee bar until Tony got an urgent work-call from Mrs. Potts. “I told you that could wait ‘til tomorrow-” Peter eyes Tony, who’s trying to get out of work with a groan. The man sighs and rolls his eyes. “Sure, fine, I’ll get it done- give me two hours.” Peter’s mood immediately sours. He had different plans for them when they got home. He’s not sure if he could wait much longer. Tony hangs up and gets up from his spot, tugging at Peter’s sleeve. “Come on, honeybunch, let’s get you home.” MJ snorts. “Honeybunch?” Peter ducks his head, but follows anyway. “Yeah, I don’t know why that one, of all the nicknames he’s called me, stuck around.” “Car’s outside, kid, we gotta go.” The older man winks at MJ. “Nice to meet ya.” “Right!” Peter turns to MJ and brings his hands together. “Was great catching up! I’ll text you, ‘kay?” MJ smirks with her lips pressed on top of each other and nods. “Sure, honeybunch.” When Tony has walked out of the store, MJ shouts for Peter one last time. “Yo, Pete!” Peter pauses and looks at MJ curiously. She wiggles her eyebrows and uses her head to gesture at the bag in his hands, all while grinning wide. “Have fun.”

Two hours. Two hours, he said. They’re far into hour four now and Peter is done waiting. He’s been eyeing himself in the mirror all this time, working himself up, softly caressing the black lace of his panties. If Tony won’t come to him, he’s just going to go to Tony. Peter takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to step outside the bedroom. He feels pretty, that’s for sure. But all of this is new and still slightly embarrassing somehow. He’s covered, yet so bare. What he’s wearing was made to be stared at. Made to be ripped off. Fuck, he can’t wait for Tony to undress him. His cock is already straining against the thin fabric and when he catches his own reflection in the long hallway mirror from the corner of his eye, he pauses, silently repeating the word he absentmindedly described himself with before he realized it was him in the mirror, not someone else. Sexy.

Tony’s typing as fast as he can, Bruce Banner is on speaker. They’re bouncing ideas, concepts, problems, solutions, that were due yesterday. Why Tony’s feeling like a workaholic all of a sudden, he doesn’t know, but he’s in a flow right now that he can’t just get out of. Not without the right incentive at least. He doesn’t look up from his screen when he hears the door opening. Pete’s probably joining him with his homework like he usually does when Tony’s in his office. He silently hopes the boy is here to bring him a strong cup of coffee as well. A smile creeps on his face when, indeed, a cup of coffee is placed on the desk next to him, but it falters. Peter’s arms are bare. Wasn’t he wearing a long-sleeved shirt today? Tony grabs the cup of coffee and glances up for a second. He chokes on his sip when he sees Peter. Or, more specifically, what he’s wearing. Tony quickly has to put down the cup and coughs. “Tony? You alright?” Bruce asks. Tony cocks an eyebrow at Peter, who smiles down at him with a grin. “F-fine!” Tony chokes out. Lingerie. He can’t stop staring at his boy, black lace panties, garter belts, see-through stockings, fuck. Peter pushes out one hip and whispers. “I’ll go get you some water, Mr. Stark.” He turns around and walks back to the door, Tony’s eyes glued to his swaying ass. “Coffee’s too hot, isn’t it?” “Is Peter with you?” Bruce asks innocently. Tony coughs one more time before he collects himself, but his cock throbs in his pants when Peter closes the door with a wink. A fucking. Wink. Fuck. “Yeah, kid brought me some coffee, but we all know I can’t function like a normal human being so I choked.” Not a lie. He didn’t lie. Right.

During the rest of the phone call with Bruce, Tony was thoroughly distracted. Whatever workflow he had, it was gone, but he was far too deep into this conversation with Banner to just end it right then and there so he could go out and tell Peter what he thought of his little stunt. The boy hasn’t come back to bring him a glass of water yet and Tony both dreads and looks forward to the next time Peter walks in. Something in him tells him Peter will.

He was right.

Again, no knock. The boy just opens the door and saunters in like he owns the place. Tony’s eyes glide over Peter’s body and he swallows, noticing how dry his mouth has gotten. Soft. Pastel. Pink. The set is disgustingly adorable and the white-pink striped stockings go all the way to halfway his thighs. Tony lets out a shaky breath when he sees how hard Peter is. How the elastic is having a hard time containing his boy’s shaft. That- “Tony?” Bruce snaps the older man out of it. “You still with me?” “Yeah! Yeah, I am, it was a little late last night.” Tony forces himself to look back at his screen, ignoring how Peter takes a sip of the promised glass of water and places it on the desk, slowly pushing it in Tony’s direction. The boy is looking directly at him and Tony’s jaw clenches. He needs to control himself. Otherwise he’ll never get this done. “It’s late for you every night, Tones, you can tell me if I’m boring you.” “You’re not! I promise.” Tony clears his throat and aggressively waves at Peter to leave. “You know me. Scatterbrained. Got four tabs open to get everything done on time.” Bruce laughs. “Maybe if you plan better, you get your work done a bit longer before the deadlines.” “Livin’ on the edge,” Tony forces out as he eyes Peter once more.

Tony picks up the glass of water to take a sip, but notices a stain. He blinks a few times and then looks back up at Peter, who decided to take a seat on the desk, crossing his legs and rhythmically twisting his foot. “So- where were we?” Tony asks quietly, trying to get Bruce to fill time as he stares at Peter opening up a compact mirror to look at his lips, fixing his gloss. God. Fucking. Dammit. “Well, we-” “Bruce, do you have a second?” Banner scoffs a laugh. “Of course.” “Peter?” Tony asks sweetly. “Could you maybe go and grab the black box from the lab? It’s got a couple red x-es on it, easy to spot. I’m gonna need something that’s in there.” “You’re not in the lab?” Bruce asks. “Nope, but Peter’s on his way there now, isn’t he?” Peter nods slowly and steps off the desk. He smiles innocently as he steals some glances at Tony while pulling up the stockings, before making his way out the door.

By the time Peter comes back, Tony is in the final stages of his project with Bruce. However, the boy once again becomes a terrible distraction. Tony’s hands hover over the keyboard, shaking, as he stares Peter down. Hot red. The boy bought a hot red set. Tony scoffs and shakes his head while sucking at his teeth. “Bruce- I’ll call you back in a second.” Without waiting for Bruce’s reply, he ends the call and he stands up, hands resting on his desk, leaning over to eye Peter up and down. The boy has his head angled down, looking up through half lidded eyes. His fingers play with the hem of his panties while one knee is turned inwards, creating the most innocent look Tony’s ever seen. Yet, his eyes tell a whole different story.

“The more you do that, the longer it takes before you get what you want, you know that right?” Tony raises his eyebrows, giving Peter a condescending look. The boy immediately straightens his back. “Thought it’d make you… Finish quicker?” He smirks and Tony groans as he steps away from his seat. “Where’s the box?” Peter turns to look at the door, where the wooden black box rests on the ground. Tony rolls his stiff shoulders. “Go get it.” Peter hurries off, but seems to slow down with every step he takes. He starts swinging his hips more and Tony swears quietly. Instead of squatting to pick it up, the boy keeps his legs straight as he bends down, stretching his arms to lift the box. Tony bites his cheek as he stares at Peter’s well rounded ass. When Peter stands up straight again, he quickly walks back to Tony, fluttering his eyes. This kid…

“Do you know what’s in here?” Tony asks, pursing his lips as he puts the box on the desk. “No, daddy.” Tony holds back a growl and side-eyes Peter, who still has a smile on his face. Tony sniffs once and presses his finger on a hidden reader. The box unlocks and twists open. Peter stares wide-eyed at its contents. There’s nothing in there. Nothing but leather cuffs. “These…” Tony picks them up and holds them in front of Peter’s face. The boy stares at them, nearly going cross eyed with how close Tony pushes them. “...Are supposedly stronger than you are.” Peter swallows. “Another project of yours, daddy?” This time, Tony grins a toothy smile. “Had them for other purposes. Strong villains, stuff like that. But well…” “Well?” “You’ve been a bad boy.”

-

Peter is gently forced to his knees next to Tony’s seat. Just far away enough that he won’t be able to reach it. Tony restrains him with the cuffs and stands up, inspecting his work. “Hope you’re not too uncomfortable,” he mutters before getting back to his seat. “Mr. Stark,” Peter says quietly. Tony looks down at him and the boy smiles. “Green.” Tony nods content and drops himself in the seat. He puts up his thumb again and holds it against one of the drawers. It opens automatically. Peter wonders what’s in it, but he can’t get a good enough view from his position on the floor. Tony takes out another black box. A black box that has Peter’s eyes go wide yet again. This is a box he knows. Tony opens it and swiftly takes out what’s inside of it. Peter’s mouth goes slack at the sight. The older man leans forward on his chair, looking down on Peter and presenting the Swissy. Peter’s cock twitches at the idea of using it again. He knows this is a big step for Tony. Last time he used it on Peter, the boy got severely overstimulated and lost his Spider senses for two days afterwards. Peter never brought it up afterwards, knowing Tony felt enormous guilt about it all, so the fact that he’s the one who takes it out again while Peter is in front of Tony, on his knees, cuffed, is very special.

“Want this?” Tony whispers, grabbing his phone from his desk. Peter nods slowly, not able to take his eyes off the Swissy. “Tell me you want it, boy.” Peter moans quietly, trying to push forward, but the new cuffs hold him back. “Please, daddy- want it- need it,” he whimpers. His hips buck and he presses his legs together to find the slightest bit of friction. Unsuccessfully. Tony smiles and presses a button on his phone. The Swissy changes into a shape Peter’s never seen before. He looks at it curiously while Tony brings it closer to his crotch. “It’s not exactly a cock ring, it won’t stop you from cumming, but…” Peter jolts when the man attaches the piece onto Peter’s cock through the fabric of the red panties. “But…?” Peter asks nervously, staring at the device that’s now indirectly attached to his body. “If Bruce finds out you’re here…” Tony pets Peter on his head before sitting up straight and moving away from the boy to sit properly at his desk again. “...I’m the only one who cums tonight.” “But daddy-” “Hey, Bruce! I’m back!” Tony half shouts with a smile. “Had to take care of something, but I’m all yours.” The man eyes at the app on his phone and then at Peter. Now the fun can really begin.

-

Peter is panting quietly, his upper body resting against the side of the desk. He can’t touch himself, he can’t turn around, he can’t find any friction whatsoever. But the buzzing. Oh, the buzzing is driving him insane. It’s agonizingly slow. Enough to have him throbbing, a stain of precum giving the hot red a deeper colour. But it’s not enough. It’s not enough to come and if he makes any sound, anything that could alert Bruce that Tony is not alone in his office right now, he won’t be getting any release at all. And he needs it, fuck, he needs it. His body has a soft sheen of sweat covering it and his eyes are rolled back as he twitches, biting his tongue to hold back the sounds he so desperately wants to make.

Is Tony distracted? Yes. But at least he has Peter exactly where he wants him to be. Directly in his line of sight as he works. He glances at the counter on his phone. The call with Bruce has already taken another hour, but at least they’re finally finishing up. Grammar checking the last page of their paper. By the time they get to the last paragraph, Tony is nearly fuming. For some reason, Bruce is getting more nitpicky with every sentence, as if he’s trying to… Drag this out. Tony scoffs as he picks up his phone and types.

Tony: What do you think you’re doing?

Bruce: Checking this paper with you?

Tony continues their conversation as if he and Bruce are not chatting via a messaging app at the same time. Peter would notice if Tony suddenly goes quiet and he doesn’t want the boy to get suspicious. “I do actually think that sentence flows well. You’re the doctor, aren’t you? Don’t you like sentences that take up at least two lines?”

Tony: You’re dragging this out!

Tony’s eyes go wide at the reply.

Bruce: 😏

“You’re right, you’re right,” Bruce replies. Tony can hear he’s smiling. “Though, I’m not so sure about the comma after ‘cancellations.’ It seems unnecessary.”

Tony: You’re unbelievable.

Bruce: You two might think you’re quiet, but Pete’s not the only one who’s been panting.

“It’s an Oxford comma, Banner, it’s not too much, it’s supposed to be there. You use Oxford commas all the time!”

Tony: Why do all the innocent people in my life turn out to be filthy?

Bruce laughs out loud. “Alright, alright, let’s leave the comma then. Moving on to the next bit.”

Bruce: I’m not filthy, Stark. You are. This is quite entertaining.

“I think that was actually it, wasn’t it?” Tony tries as he furiously types.

Tony: S a d i s t.

“You know what?” Bruce says cheerfully. “You’re right. Why don’t you finish up so you can go to Peter. He must’ve been waiting forever for you.” Tony glances at Peter, still panting and twitching and quietly moaning to himself. “He has,” Tony replies through gritted teeth, trying to stop himself from moaning along. “I think it’s time I’m gonna relieve him.” Bruce chuckles. “You go do that.” It’s quiet for two seconds. “Right, so I saved the doc, if anything changes I’ll hear from you?” “Yeah, Bruce, but I think I won’t be online for a while.” “That’s okay! It’s been a long day for all of us.” Peter jolts at Bruce’s words, letting out a soft cry. Tony could throw his phone through the window. This guy… “Good night, Bruce.” “Night, Tony!”

Bruce: Have fun!

Tony shakes his head and puts his phone down. Slowly, he shifts in his chair, looking down at Peter. The boy’s staring up with him, eyes so desperate and needy it makes Tony’s blood rush south. “D-Daddy, please,” Peter whimpers, thrusting his hips up into nothing. Tony loves seeing him like this. Loves the nearly pained expression on Peter’s face as he’s desperate to do anything just to get a little more friction. Tony licks his lips as he slowly rises from his chair, only to crouch down in front of Peter. “Well, well, well. What have we got here,” Tony whispers, smirking. It takes every last bit of willpower he has to not drag his baby up over the desk and fuck him right there and then, but he knows that playing around for just a bit longer will be so worth it. “Fuck, Pete, you’re so hard.” Tony cups his hand around Peter’s cock through the smooth fabric barely covering it, feeling the buzz of the toy. “How’s it feel, Pete?” Peter presses his hips into Tony’s hand, gasping. “G-Good, Mr. Stark!” “You look so pretty, darling. The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.” He notices the blush creeping up Peter’s cheeks and smiles. Right where he wants him. “But you’ve been bad, huh, haven’t you? Teasing me with that sweet ass of yours.” “M-m’sorry!” “Are you, though? Seemed you knew exactly what you were doing, parading around with Bruce on speaker like that.” “J-Just wanted to- aah!” Peter chokes out when Tony slides his hand into the panties to trace his fingers across the tip. His cock jerks a little and it has Tony breathless. Peter’s so responsive to him. So hyper-aware of every little touch. “Tell me, Pete. What’s that lip gloss taste like, uh?” He asks quietly, his fingers still circling around Peter’s cock. “It’s-”

Before Peter has a chance to answer, Tony leans in, pressing his lips on the boy’s ones harshly. Demanding. Peter groans, parting his lips and melting into the kiss. The overly sweet fruity flavor sticking to Tony’s tongue. “Hmmm, peach,” he grumbles against his boyfriend’s lips, kissing him harder. “I like it. Though it’s not nearly as sweet as you are.” He shifts a little, taking the toy away and loves how Peter whimpers at the loss. “Shhh, don’t worry, you’ll get your pleasure. Be patient.” Tony whispers, standing up again to undo the cuffs. He keeps them secured around Peter’s wrists though, then buckling them together behind the boy’s back. “Get up, sweetness. Want you to kneel on the couch, bending over the armrest.”

Peter stumbles as he tries to get up, his legs tired and sore after having been in the same position for so long. Tony licks his lips as he watches Peter struggle. The boy manages and chuckles proudly once he stands upright, hands still very much bound together behind his back. It does something to Peter’s posture that makes Tony dizzy with lust. “What are you waiting for?” “Don’t you like watching me?” Peter smirks, pushing his arms even further back. God. This boy knows exactly what he’s doing. Well, two can play this game. Tony grabs the boy’s shoulder, pushing him forward only to grasp the chain locking the cuffs together. Pulling the cuffs up, making Peter struggle to stand straight. “I said, get on the couch,” he growls and he drags the boy with him, enjoying the surprised gasp coming from Peter. He knows how much the boy likes to be manhandled like that, and the cuffs only make it better. “You’re being a naughty boy, baby. I’d watch your steps if I were you.” “Yes, daddy,” Peter moans and lets Tony bend him over the armrest without any resistance. Legs falling apart, ass pushed into the air. Tony smacks it lightly and fuck, he can’t wait till the day where they pick spanking from the jar and he gets to turns Peter’s butt all pink and warm.

Tony’s hand rests on the red lace. He softly rubs his fingers on Peter’s ass, scrunching the fabric under his touch. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Pete,” he whispers as his hand trails up Peter’s back. Peter arches into his touch, but yelps when Tony suddenly pulls at his hair. The older man’s mouth inches closer to Peter’s ear and he growls. “You gonna take it?” He gently bites down on Peter’s ear. The boy moans and twitches, struggling against his restraints. “Gonna take me like the good slut you are?” Peter nods frantically, closing his eyes and letting out a whine. “Y-yes, daddy, please, need you-” Tony raises his eyebrows. “You need me?” He laughs, slightly condescendingly, as he moves back to Peter’s ass, hooking his fingers in the hem of his boy’s panties. Peter barely dares to respond- isn’t even sure if he’s able to at this point. He’s so hard. Aching- yearning for Tony’s attention. Peter’s startled when, suddenly, he feels pressure around his waist and the sound of fabric tearing and elastic snapping. “T-Tony!” He exclaims. The boy can practically hear Tony grin. “Uh-oh,” the older man says nonchalantly. “Guess we’re going to have to go shopping again.” Tony pulls the panties away from Peter, who twitches when the fabric glides past his cock. It springs free, and the open air tickles his shaft. Tony dangles the ripped panties in front of Peter’s face. “I’ll be joining you in the fitting rooms this time, though.”

Tony walks around to Peter’s front side, keeping the panties where they are, right in front of Peter’s face. He squats down to Peter’s height and cocks his head. The boy pants, smelling himself on the fabric. Tony studies the ripped panties with both hands and glances at Peter when he feels the damp spot of precum. “What’s this?” he asks rhetorically. Peter’s jaw hangs slack and he indirectly stares at Tony, through the sheer parts of the panties. There’s a mischievous glimmer in the older man’s eye. “Since you seem to be so hungry…” Tony brings the panties closer to his own nose to take a whiff before pushing it against Peter’s mouth, making his cheeks flush bright red. “Go and have a taste, sweetness.” Peter opens his mouth further and Tony places the red fabric on Peter’s tongue. He can already taste himself and his eyes roll back as his hips buck through his moans. “Now… Don’t let go, sweet thing. Or I will reconsider making you cum.” Peter’s eyes go wide and he locks his jaw immediately. Tony tugs at it playfully, finding it’s stuck in Peter’s mouth and then lets go of them. He caresses up Peter’s face, through his hair and over his back while he moves to Peter’s behind again. “So, Pete…” Tony squeezes Peter’s ass with both hands, causing the boy to arch his back. “How do you taste?” All Peter can do is moan, clenching his panties between his teeth. Tony smiles and licks his lips. “That good, huh?” The boy nods slightly and Tony lowers himself, grabbing Peter’s cock without warning. Peter jolts and Tony rubs his thumb over the boy’s head, taking some of the newly formed precum. To Peter’s dismay, the older man lets go of his cock again. Tony brings his fingers to his mouth and studies them. “Guess I’m going to have to taste it for myself.”

Peter wishes he could turn around. Wishes he could see Tony right now, licking Peter’s precum from his fingers, but he can’t. Not with the restraints holding him back. Not without getting out of this position. Instead, he only gets to listen how Tony lewdly licks his own fingers clean, moaning around his own digits. “Mmm…” Tony sighs. “So sweet…” Peter squeezes his eyes shut, arching his back as far as he can, trying to get his daddy’s attention. He wants to be filled so bad. But the panties in his mouth prevent him from vocalizing it with anything other than a deep moan.

“Alright, sweetness. I’ll stop stalling,” Tony’s smirk evident in his voice. “I know how badly you’re aching for me to pound you.” Peter drops his head low, nodding feverishly.  “And so am I.” Peter hears how Tony rummages around for a bit and he waits patiently, shifting slightly to release some of the strain on his arms. Suddenly he feels the cold lube trickling down and he gasps, clenching around nothing. “My sweet, lil’ needy boy aren’t you…” Tony’s voice is low and rough and it sends a jolt through Peter’s body. His mind’s starting to get hazy again and Peter lets himself drown in the familiar sensation. He feels how Tony’s fingers slide towards his entrance, and then slips one in gently and it makes the boy shudder.

“Good boy.”

Peter wants to gasp, but instead clamps his teeth on the fabric tighter. His legs falling apart even wider as if asking Tony to please, please touch him more. He wants to be touched. Wants Tony’s rough, big hands on his skin. Marking him. Claiming him. Wants to feel how the man’s fingers dig bruises into his hips as he pounds him. He whines when Tony’s finger gently rubs along his prostate, pleasure flaring from his abdomen through his entire body. He feels how Tony slips a second finger in. A third. Stretching and playing until Peter’s nothing more than a moaning mess.

“Fuck, baby, I can’t wait any longer,” Tony’s voice rumbles from behind him, and the sound of Tony’s belt unbuckling sends off another jolt. He’s so used to that clanking noise, knows exactly what it means. What’s coming for him. And he wants it. Soon, he feels Tony’s warm, bare chest on his back and he melts into the embrace. Safe. Tony’s hands slide down his sides, towards his ass where they grip onto his hip bones. “Brace yourself, honeybunch, I’m not gonna go easy on you. If you need me to slow down, kick your leg up alright? Nod to me if you understand.” Peter understands and nods, and then cries out in pleasure when Tony pushes into him all the way. Tony grunts, his breath hot against Peter’s neck.

“Oh, you feel so damn good, making daddy lose his mind.” Peter wants to answer. Wants to chant Tony’s name over and over again as he pounds into him without mercy. It feels so good. So amazing. After hours of teasing and begging, finally getting what he wants, it’s mind blowing. He feels how Tony’s hand creeps up, clasping onto the cuffs. The leather creaks when Peter angles his hands, trying to hold Tony’s by bending his fingers. The tips brush against Tony’s skin, causing goosebumps to run over his entire body. Tony’s other hand sneaks around Peter’s waist. Peter’s entire body tenses when he feels Tony’s fingers wrapping around his hard on - jerking him fast and rough. “Hold on, baby, don’t come just yet. Want you to drag it out,” Tony growls, “-when you really can’t hold back, drop those pretty panties and scream for me.” The older man slams into him harder and Peter’s trembling all over, his fingers tightening on the slight grip he has on Tony’s hand. The cuffs seem so sturdy and strong, holding him in place, and then there’s Tony on top of him, keeping him down.

Peter tries. He really tries. He just can’t hold it. His mouth opens wide as he throws his head back, dropping the panties on the floor. “A-Aaahh! I… Mr…” Peter’s sobbing, body clenching, his wrists pushing into the cuffs and -  a loud, ripping noise pierces through the room as his arms suddenly shoot apart. He falls forward, gasping in surprise and laughs almost hysterically as he rides through his orgasm. “Baby, oh fuck, you’re so strong, so pretty, g-gonna- I-” Tony’s fingers dig deep into Peter’s hips, holding him tight and close as he pushes forward, grunting and moaning as he releases deep inside of him. He collapses on top of Peter, and the boy closes his eyes. He’s disoriented in the very best way. Tony’s hot, heavy body weighing down on him making him feel secure. And loved. And most definitely fucked-out.

“T-thought you said these were unbreakable,” Peter gasps, trying to catch his breath. Tony chuckles wrapping his arms gently around Peter’s waist. Holding him as close as possible. “Strong, yes. Unbreakable… Not for you, it seems. Fuck, I love you.” The older man closes his eyes, his head resting on Peter’s back. He can hear the boy’s racing heartbeat matching his own and he smiles. “Pete?” “Hmmm?” comes the boy’s soft reply. “You’re gorgeous when you destroy things.” Peter chuckles, not moving from his spot. He’s too content, too blissed, to even consider it. “Oh, and by the way-” Tony absentmindedly presses a kiss on Peter’s back, causing the boy to shiver. “Next time you wear something on your lips, throw in a little hot red, would you? None of that nude stuff.” Peter hums. “Why?” Tony smiles against Peter’s skin. “I wanna see it when I smear it all over your pretty face.”

--- More: Chapter 12: Yet to be posted Masterpost

#starker #peter parker #peter x tony #tony x peter #adult peter parker #ironspider #iron man x spider man #iron man #ironman #spider man x iron man #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #kink exploration #spiderman #spider man #spider-man #marvel #mcu #twokinkybeans #jar of dirt #jarofdirt

[frostygilbert]

scoops ahoy

pairing: robinxfem!reader

warnings: cursing, things get a little.. heated.. if you know what i mean, but not too much.

i HAVE to write about my favorite lesbian. she’s so cute, i’ve fallen in love with her.

please send in robin requests!! i already love writing about her sooooo much :)

-it’s just a nice little fic about robin having a crush on the new scoops ahoy worker-

•••

scoops ahoy was one of the last places you wanted to be working at.

nothing wrong with the job it self, you just hated the amount of people that were always in there.

you could only guess it was because of steve harrington. most of the groups that came in were giggly teenage girls eyeing him up and down.

sure, steve is cute, you may or may not have had a small crush on him when you were a freshmen.. but it was brief. mainly because he was an asshole.

so here you are, getting attitude from children while being in a stupid uniform. steve was nicer now, but you weren’t interested.

robin was nice, but the two of you didn’t really talk. most of the interacting was between steve and her, she made it her mission to keep track of all the girls he scared away.

she’d tried many times to start a conversation with you, rambling about the most random of things. you thought she was just trying to be nice and make you feel welcome, and you didn’t like it.

you thought she felt obligated to talk to you.

but in all actuality, she just really wanted to talk to you. she liked the way you scoffed at the kids when they when they’d repeatedly ask for a sample. and she’d feel her heart beat faster when you’d laugh at steve failing to get a girl.

she liked the amount of bracelets you wore, and she always noticed when you drew something on your arm.

robin knew she had a crush, and she knew she was in deep shit.

there’s no way she’d be into me, she thought.

robin lost hope when it came to girls. they all ended up being boy crazy. she’d yet to meet someone who was like her.

but there was something about you that kept her hooked.

“hey y/n,” she said with a smile as she walked behind the counter. steve was attempting to flirt with yet another girl, and you were watching him fail.

you smiled at her before directing your attention back to steve.

robin felt the hurt in her chest as you payed no mind to her, rather steve. she was beginning to convince herself that you were head over heels for him. just like tammy was.

the constant none answering, and sometimes not even eye contact, was really getting to her.

she couldn’t even stop the tears from forming in her blue eyes.

you heard robin take in a harsh breath, and you directed your attention to her.

her eyes were pointed down, but you could still see the tears in her eyes. robin was never one to cry, or even be sad. she always had a smile on her face, and always had something witty to say.

“robin, are you okay?”

she laughed at your question, annoyance laced in with it. you didn’t know why she was laughing as tears were making their way down her freckled cheeks.

“please don’t act like you care,” she said, making firm eye contact.

you’d never felt uncomfortable under robins gaze. you noticed she looked at you a lot, and it always gave you a weird feeling that you couldn’t explain.

robin wiped her tears and went into the backroom without another word.

you truly weren’t sure what to do.

“what’s up with robin?” steve asked concerned.

you didn’t say anything, you didn’t even acknowledge he asked. you just looked ahead, wondering what you did to make one of the quirkiest people you’d ever met upset.

minutes passed, then an hour. you hadn’t moved from your spot, leaned up against the back counter. steve had asked you many times to take scoop duty, but you ignored him. you were way too deep in your thoughts.

then when the hour mark came around, steve asked again. over and over.

“y/n please scoop, please scoop, please scoop, please scoop, please-“ “should i go talk to her?” you asked, cutting him off.

he almost gasped at you actually acknowledging him standing in front of you. usually he wouldn’t have to bug you so much to get a word out of you.

“robin? i don’t know, i’m not sure what’s wrong with her. i think she wants to be left alone, ive never see her upset like that.”

“that’s exactly why i need to talk to her. i think i made her upset. and maybe i’m too stupid to see what i did but i’d rather know then let her cry in the back room,” you said.

then without hesitation you went to robin, hearing steve huff behind you.

robin was sitting at the table with her head propped up with her hands.

she looked at you with a blank expression. eyes were slightly red, and her lips with puffy.

how does she look so pretty when she cries?

you sat across from her, taking in a deep breath.

her expression had changed to confusion. she watched every move you made very closely.

“robin, i,” you were stuttering. why were you stuttering?

“i don’t know what i did to make you cry. but i don’t want to be the reason you’re crying. can you tell me what i did so we can make this better? i like your smile a lot, and i don’t want to be the reason you don’t show it off as much,” you said.

robin couldn’t stop the heat from rising in her cheeks. a smile was fighting its way to her red lips, but she bit the inside of her cheek to stop it.

“i was overreacting,” she said. not really wanting to explain to you that she had a massive crush on you and you not talking to her actually broke her heart.

“no, tell me robin. i wanna fix it.”

she couldn’t stop the smile that time.

her smile made you feel a lot better.

“you already did,” she said softly.

you were about to say something else, but the door swung open and in comes a very stressed looking steve harrington.

“i know you two are probably having a heart to heart but i really need some help out here.”

the stressed look on his face made you and robin bust out laughing.

“we’re coming steve,” you said through laughter, “the girls are here to save the day!”

the next time you saw robin was a week later. you hadn’t been working because you’d went to florida with your family. and the whole time you were gone all you could think about was her.

everyone’s laugh sounded dull compared to hers, and no ones blue eyes sparkled the way hers did.

boys tried to flirt with you on the beach, or when you went out to eat, but you weren’t interested.

you truly didn’t know what you were interested in.

a smile spread across your face as you laid eyes on her. she was marking the side of the board that said ‘you suck,’ with a smirk plastered across her face.

“hey losers, did you miss me?”

their heads shot in your direction. steve shook his head no and gave you a fake mean look, but it was followed by a smile.

robin was smiling too, and sinking her teeth in her bottom lip to keep her smile from being too wide.

“you’ve missed steve blow it with so many girls! i’ve been laughing my ass off all week!” this time she didn’t hold back the smile.

you really missed her big smile.

you looked at the board and saw the six tallies and couldn’t help but laugh.

“steve where’s your game? i could pick up more girls than you!” you said with a laugh.

steve rolled his eyes and mocked what you said in a high pitched voice.

the two of you started bickering back and forth, throwing funny insults that couldn’t help but make you two laugh.

but robin wasn’t paying any mind, she was thinking about what you said.

i could pick up more girls than you

she knew their was a higher chance that you meant it to be funny, not that you actually would try to hit on a girl.

but it gave her hope.

“probably false hope,” she mumbled.

the day dragged on, but it was a lot better now that you were being yourself.

robin liked your personality a lot.

days, then weeks went by. and each day she felt herself falling for you more and more.

one day you’d given her one of your bracelets, telling her she should have it cause it matched her eyes.

robin loved the bracelet more than one should.

she never too it off.

robin just about shit her pants when you asked her to come over.

it was a wednesday night when the mall was close to closing time. there was only two people sitting in the scoops ahoy, ice cream in their hands.

“hey robin,” you’d said, “i was wondering if you wanted to hang out friday night at my place. we can eat candy and watch stupid movies.”

you’d been terrified to ask her. not sure why asking a friend to hang out was such a nerve racking thing for you.

“oh uh, yeah, sure. that’d be cool,” she was once again biting her cheek to suppress her smile.

when friday rolled around, robin was a mess. she’d dropped so much ice cream that day, her nerves getting the best of her.

she got to ride home with you, it was like a dream.

you had rolled all the windows down and sang at the top of your lungs to the radio.

robin couldn’t help but stare at you.

you looked so pretty.

“okay, which one?”

you held up two movies, ‘grease’ and ‘star wars: a new hope.’

she’d seen star wars too many times to count, “grease, definitely.”

robin paid more attention to the random things littered around your room than the movie.

your walls were white, and covered in posters.

all different kinds of bands, records were on the wall as well.

it was hard to see details considering the lights were off, only the tv supplying her with light.

when she turned her head to look at you, her eyes widened.

you were looking at her.

“you’re really pretty, robin,” you whispered. as if you were scared she’d hear you.

“t-thank you,” she stuttered, then gulped.

your eyes shifted to her red lips, she was biting them.

robin couldn’t believe your eyes were looking at her lips. did you want to kiss her as much as she wanted to kiss you?

you sat up more, leveling yourself with robin, then moving closer.

you could feel her breath on your face.

the wanting radiated in the small room.

“robin,” you said softly.

“yes?,” she asked, her voice cracking from nerves.

your hand reached up to touch her cheek, finger tips settling in her short and soft hair.

“can i kiss you?” you said it so quietly. as if anyone else heard it, it’d be a crime.

“please,” robin said.

her lips are so soft, you both thought.

the kiss was slow and meaningful. all the pent up emotion went into it.

it was magical.

your stomach was turning in such a satisfying way. and robin swore her fingers were tingling, literally tingling.

you pushed your hand to the back of her head, pulling her closing. the kiss became harder, hungrier.

you bit her lip, causing her to let out a small whimper, and you took that opportunity to slip your tongue in her mouth.

the sound of kissing filled the room, it was almost louder then the singing coming from the television.

hands were roaming across each other’s bodies, whimpers and moans slipping here and there.

you pulled away to kiss along her jawline and down her neck. robin couldn’t stop the noises from slipping past her lips as you sucked and nibbled.

“fuck,” she whined, and it sent a shock right between your legs.

you went back to kissing her, until breathing was extremely needed.

the two of you breathed in and out loudly, forheads presses against each other, eyes closed.

“you’re a really good kisser,” robin said, still not being able to breath properly.

“you aren’t to bad yourself,” you said with a giggle.

you pecked her lips a few more times, wanting to feel her again.

you ran your finger across her bottom lip, she watched you in awe.

it felt like a dream. robin was scared she’d wake up in her bed any second.

“i like you a lot,” robin said.

you smiled, “i like you a lot too.”

that’s when she leaned in to connect your lips again in another heated kiss.

#stranger things #robin x reader #stranger things 3 #fic #fanfiction #lesbian #scoops ahoy #steve harrington #x reader #fan #fiction #head cannons

[donatello-writes]

Mutant Puberty

In a humble house within the New York city suburbs, the hulking testudine by the name of Raphael sat in his kitchen. He was soon met by his oldest child, who came rushing into the room. Nerves nagged at Frida as she anxiously awaited the arrival of her boyfriend. She was already sixteen, and the turtle in red couldn't believe how fast the years had flown by. This was the first of her many suitors to agree to meet her...interesting...family. All those who came before broke things off with her upon learning of her parentage. 

"Dad, remember, be nice." Raphael grunted with displeasure at his daughter's request.

"I make no promises." His stern eyes narrowed into a glower.

"Daddyyy, please! I really like this guy a lot...Can you at lease be civil?"

"I suppose that I can try dat." He grumbled in agreement to her terms.

Hearing the commotion coming from downstairs, Lucas wandered out of his room. He stopped mid-way down the stairs, and peeked through the wooden railing. His thin, almost alligator-like tail curled into his lap, and he clutched it out of nervousness. This was the first guest they'd had over since he'd fully grown into his mutant traits. He ran his hand over the mohawk-esque tuft of reddish-orange hair on the top of his head before scratching at his scales. When a few flaked off, he sighed. 

"Shedding...again..." He was already fourteen years of age, and looked exactly like his father, only with a much thinner frame. When he was born he appeared mostly human, with hair and pale cream colored skin. His only distinctly terrapin characteristics being his three fingered hands, two-toed feet, and tail. However, unlike  his sister, he went through some dramatic bodily changes when he hit adolescence. It happened so rapidly that it almost felt unreal...almost.  

His plastron and scales came first, followed by his snout, with his shell having only just recently begun to grow in. The protective shield still wasn't fully developed, and plagued him with growing pains. He reached over his shoulder and rubbed the top of it gently, as if that would ease the discomfort. Mutant puberty was the worst! When the doorbell rang, he scrambled to his feet, and raced back up to his room. Once there, he rummaged through a drawer until he located a baseball cap with the Maryland Terrapins logo on it, and donned it backwards. 

"At least this'll kinda hide my freaky mutant dandruff." He huffed in dismay. Hearing his mother call for his presence, he hesitantly proceeded downstairs to greet the visitor. Thankfully, Frida had well informed her suitor of her "special" family, to avoid shock and panic. That did little to alleviate the teenager's nerves as he trudged down the steps. He was met at the bottom of the stairwell by his mother, sister, and their guest for the evening.

Lucas' eyes widened upon first sight of Trevor, the small hoop ring on his lower lip caught the light as the charming young man grinned a hello. Tall for his age, Lucas was already 6ft even, almost at height with him. The young terrapin's heart thumped in his chest when their eyes met. He was speechless, enamored by the handsome stranger that stood before him.

"Huh-Hello-HI!" in almost robotic movements, the awkward young man closed his eyes and extended his hand, inviting a friendly handshake. He would understand if the human didn't return the gesture, most didn't want to even go near Lucas, let alone touch him. But when he felt a light squeeze in his palm, he reopened his eyes to find Trevor's in his. It wasn't long before the mutant teen quickly withdrew his hand, suddenly self-conscious about his scaliness.

"S-sorry my hands are pretty rough..."

"It's okay, Dude, you're fine."

The fawning lad's hazel eyes sparkled, he was unaccustomed to being treated so kindly by a human he'd only just met. Sure, mutant's had since been assimilated into everyday society, but that did little to change how they were viewed. The road to acceptance would be a long and arduous one. Lucas sighed as he thought about the world's state of affairs only to have his concentration shattered by the boisterous entrance of his father. The behemoth eclipsed the doorway separating living room from kitchen, swiftly lurching forward to come face to face with his daughter's beau.

"Nice ta meet ya, I'm Frida's fatha." He wore a jovial expression before lifting Trevor up off of his feet and into a hug. The protective father then whispered into the young man's ear. "If ya hurt my lil' baby girl, I will pummel you within an inch of yer life," before  setting him back down. The boy shuddered, but kept his composure. Both siblings groaned at their beastly dad's embarrassing actions. Meanwhile, Raphael's wife shot him a glare at which he smirked and grunted. Putting on a happy face, the matron led evenyone into the dining room to take their seats.

It wasn't long before the food was ready, and plates were handed out. The young terrapin fidgeted at the table, occasionally peering up to steal glances at Trevor before darting his eyes back down at his plate. He'd never felt this before, his heart was now in this throat, beating faster with each passing second. 

Why do I feel this way? 

Just as the twitterpated lad asked himself that question, a chirping sound began emanating from his body. He jolted in surprise, and the entire table focused their attention onto him. With a red face, he slowly sank down in his seat. His father immediately knew what it was, and wasted no time in speaking up. As if the evening hadn't been awkward enough already, it quickly went from bad to worse.

"Son, we should go to tha bathroom."

"Wha? B-but dad..."

"NOW." the imposing growl of a command was impossible to disobey. Grabbing his son by the hand, Raphael led him upstairs to the bathroom, chirping continuing all the while. 

"Dad, what's happening to me now?!" His blush worsened, he hated his body for what it was doing. As he became increasingly flustered, the sound only grew louder.

His father stifled a chuckle, "It's a churr."

"A...what?"

"I'm sawry that I didn't tell ya about dis soona, but I honestly didn't think ya would have it. Lessee, how do I tell ya dis...Jeeze, why hasn't Donnie taught ya dis yet???" His Dad racked his brain trying to find the right way to explain. 

"When a male turtle becomes...excited...he makes a churring sound to let the ladies know that he's...ready..."

"Oh my God, Dad, STOP!" Lucas reflexively covered his ear flaps. "I didn't know this was gonna be a birds and the bees thing." 

"So...who's the lucky girl?"

"Huh?" 

"The one that ya were thinkin' about at the table."

"B-but...I wasn't thinking about a girl..." Sure, Lucas had dated a girl and fantasized about the opposite gender countless times before, but that wasn't the thing on his mind as he sat at the dinner table.

"Sure ya weren't." Raphael winked at his son and shrugged. "But if ya don' wanna tell me about it, I undastand. If ya calm yerself down, it’ll stop." His son nodded, and proceeded to take deep breaths, just like his uncle Leo had taught him to do when feeling anxious. 

The two returned to the dinner table and Raphael met his wife, whispering in her ear to fill her in on what was going on. She smiled wide and looked over at her son lovingly. He noticed, scowled, and returned to staring at his plate. All he wanted in this very moment was to disappear completely. 

"So, Lucas, what's it like being half turtle? It seems pretty cool." Trevor smiled at the anxious young mutant. Jerking at the sudden inquiry, the flustered turtle struggled to even form a sentence in response. Floundering, a myriad of expressions ran over his face in mere seconds: surprise, confusion, nervousness, and finally, happiness. He couldn't find words, mind still stuck on the specifics of the question.

He thinks I'm cool???

"It's not so bad, I gUesS." His voice dropped over a year ago, but it still refused to settle on a tone from time to time. So, in the perfect timing, it decided to fail him. Instead, his attempt at a cavalier response came out in the form of a squeak as his voice cracked. Lucas was mortified. At that moment, it dawned on both his mother and father, and the two exchanged knowing glances from across the table. Once Trevor left the house, and Frida went up to her room, Raphael turned to his son.

"It was Trevor, wasn't it?"

"Daaad! Wha---NO!" but the churr that followed gave him away.

"Okay...M-maybe, I dunno...I'm so confused." the bright red color on his cheeks was telling, and his father grabbed him in a bear hug.

"It's okay, son. You like whoevah ya want, yer motha and I will love ya not matta what."

Here’s a link to Frida’s introduction --> (x)

#tmnt oc #lucas #raphael's son #raphael #raph #tmnt imagine #headcanon #shortfic #fan fiction #tmnt fic #my writing #don's quill pen #big daddy raphy #mutant puberty #teenage mutant ninja turtles #raph's a super supportive dad #i heart my bisexual mutant son #he will make a t-shirt with that on it #bayverse tmnt #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014

[sosthemortalcoil]

KoFi Request: Michael and Family Dinner (Dark F!Gabriel)

This is a sort of follow-up to a previous NSFW KoFi request.

Tone: Awkward, funny, black/edgy humor

Same Gabriel as the previous KoFi

Synopsis: Family dinner where Gabriel and Michael announce that she’s expecting their child.

A good relationship with Daniel and Lucifer

Bonus: She originally tried to shank Daniel

Humor isn’t my forte by any means, but I hope you enjoy it anon! Total word count is 5,223 words and if you would like a pdf or word document copy, let me know via private messages here or on discord! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michael keeps looking back at you with wide, pleading eyes, tweaking the tie you had talked him into. He keeps complaining that if you wanted him collared and leashed there are more pleasant ways to go about it. You insisted on the tie; as fun as the other option is, it’s really not a topic you wish to broach with your father. Besides, he should know by now that you always get what you want. The color of his wings proves that your control over Michael is greater than even Heaven’s pull had once been.

“This seems like a bad idea,” he protests, not for the first time, and definitely not for the last. In the end, however, he’ll participate. Grumbling and fretting are how Michael shows he cares, even if it does occasionally grate on your nerves. The day he does something without some sort of token protest is the day you start to truly worry.

You reach up and retighten the tie, pointedly doing it with more force than you had previously. “Stop fussing.” The tone of your voice dares him to disobey.

Michael grimaces. “This is a cursed invention of humans,” he complains, flirting with the idea of disobedience without fully engaging with it. “Why would they wish to feel like there is a noose around their neck? Who decided that should be part of formal dress? At least cravats had some elegance to them.”

It’s your turn to pull a face. If you left Michael to his own devices, you don’t doubt that there would be some terrible mishmash of clothing from different eras and regions. And you’d only just disposed of the last Miami vice style outfit he had squirreled away. Falling hadn’t improved his fashion sense, sadly.

Rather than indulge him in his whinging, you simply say, “Relax,” and stroke over the back of his hair, noting that the locks are almost down to his collar. He’d chopped them off on an impulse, but since becoming involved with you was trying to grow it out again. Turns out Michael has a bit of a kink when it comes to having his hair pulled, which suits you perfectly. “It’ll be fine,” you reassure him.  

He leans into your touch. “You say that, but I remind you that based on my previous encounters with your father, fine is an exaggeration.” Considering everyone came out of it relatively intact and not too burnt, you think fine is an apt description. You didn’t have to replace any dishes or chairs, which was a fortunate event; no matter how recently you seemed to have acquired belongings, the moment you needed a replacement you could never find the exact item again.

There’s one sure way to distract Michael from his concerns, however, a recent development you have been using and abusing to your advantage. You take one of Michael’s hands and pull it to your stomach. “What do you think, sweetheart? Think your daddy is overreacting? I know I do,” you coo down at the faint bump.

It’s amazing how effective this behavior is at getting Michael to agree with you and stop all forms of whining. Being pregnant is an automatic win to every argument, not that you need it, but it’s amusing to see Michael turn into soft, gooey ball of emotions, unable to help himself. It’s endearing.

“They aren’t capable of that level of thought yet,” Michael grouses, even as he gets to his knees and presses his ear to your stomach. A grin creeps over your face, and you tousle his hair again.

“But they’ll be like daddy, I’m sure, and admit that mommy is always right,” you murmur, fingers trailing down to stroke over his cheek.

Michael grumbles some more, turning to press a kiss to your belly. You’re barely showing, but you want to tell the rest of your family before it gets to the point that it’s obvious it’s not just a few extra of Persephone’s cookies.

Especially because you’d rather no one level a city block upon finding out. The amount of paperwork that humans generate sometimes makes Heaven seem like an efficient machine in comparison, and that isn’t a compliment to either institution.

A timer starts going off, and you clap your hands together. “They’ll be here any minute. Daniel!” There’s a clatter, and your adopted son appears on the spiral staircase, dressed up in black slacks and a gray-green collared shirt that brings out his eyes.

“Yes mom?” You’ve come such a long way to have him call you that, from trying to remove what you thought was just another satanspawn from the earth to calling him your son.   

“Help me set the table, please,” you call as you bustle into the kitchen, hiding a fond smile. He’s a good boy, and often times more mature and dependable than Michael. Not that Michael doesn’t try, but if you want something done without twenty questions Daniel is your man. Not to mention, sometimes Michael still gets caught up in ‘that’s not how Heaven does it.’

While he understands that he’s yours, utterly and completely, he fails to understand that this city is under your dominion as well. The only higher power that rules here is you. Perhaps the difference is that Daniel has always used you as his moral compass, so adjusting to your laws is easy enough.

Michael had spent so long picking fights with you over the slightest issue that sometimes he would still balk at the way you handle problems. He’s learning, though, coming around to your way of view. It’s harder to teach a millennia old angel compared to a boy, but then again Daniel has always been an exceptional child.

That thought makes you pause. He is a young man, now, isn’t he? Not the scrawny, terrified boy you’d met that fateful day. Growing up and going out into the world, ready to make his mark. Your eyes flit to your stomach. Don’t humans have a word for this feeling? Empty nesters? Oddly accurate for Fallen, too. Idly you rub your stomach. Maybe you have grown accustomed to having a little one around.

Daniel enters the kitchen a moment later, moving carefully around you. He already knows about your pregnancy as it’s been impossible to keep Michael’s behavior from giving it away, and Daniel is far more perceptive.

However, it’s made it so that between the two of them, you’ve barely been able to lift anything lighter than a book without them fussing over you. At least Daniel listens to you without arguing when you insist on doing things yourself. You’re pregnant, not an invalid, and barely pregnant at that. If you don’t put your foot down now on the special treatment it’s only going to get significantly worse later. You know Michael. Going overboard is his modus operandi.

“You really think a dinner party with this family is going to go well?” Daniel asks as he pulls out plates and silverware, balancing them with a grace he’s only recently grown into.

“This family? You’re a part of this family, need I remind you,” you gently chide as you pull out the casserole and set it on top of the oven. The top is a light golden brown, almost as good as the picture next to the recipe you’d followed.

“Yep. Which is why I can call it a functional disaster,” Daniel retorts, gliding out of your reach as he moves to the dining table, setting out six place settings and flashing you a cheeky grin. “Things get done, sure, but rarely the way you expect them to or without something nearly catastrophic happening. Not to mention we’re like a bad joke setup.”

“Excuse me young man,” you call, hands on your hips, one eyebrow cocked in a pose you’ve coined as ‘disapproving mother.’ Even without saying anything, Daniel and Michael recognize they’ve done something wrong when you strike it, though depending on his mood, Michael has known to persist.

Turns out someone enjoys a little punishment, but now is not the time to be thinking about that. Definitely not with your father and siblings coming over.

Daniel gestures at Michael, who is standing poised like a statue in front of the front door waiting for the doorbell to ring, giving you a raised eyebrow in return. “Tell me I’m wrong. Satan, his daughter, and three angels—”

“Fallen,” Michael corrects, the word still full of a bitterness you haven’t shaken him out of yet.

You glance at your lover. “Just remember you’re stuck with this family,” you respond, avoiding the topic. Michael is a walking disaster all on his own and everyone knows it, even you. Of course, he’s your disaster and he has made great improvements. It’s a wonder what happens when you listen to others instead of stubbornly defending your position even when it’s glaringly obvious you have no ground to stand on. Only a few years, however, doesn’t quite begin to make-up for millennia of bad behavior.

Falling helped take him down a peg or two. He’s been much better behaved without an entire Heavenly Host watching him, ready to criticize any perceived weaknesses. Plus, you’ve learned ways to keep him leashed and obedient.

“For better or for worse,” Daniel chimes, smile soft. “Though, when your granddad’s the Devil, hard to top that.”

“You know he hates that moniker,” you scold.

“Not like he cares for Grandpa either,” Daniel replies impishly. Teenagers.

Shaking your head, you grab a few cork trivets and toss them towards Daniel. He catches them, laying them out on the table while you bring the casserole over. Another timer goes off. “Grab the mushrooms and put them on a serving platter please,” you say, heading towards the wine rack. While it’s difficult to get an angel drunk on human liquor, it won’t hurt to mellow moods, though you can’t partake.

You grab an old vine Zinfandel for Lucifer, and a sweeter Orange Muscat for Israfel. The latter isn’t really suited for the meal you made, but Israfel prefers sweet wines. Ramiel will drink whatever you put in front of him, and you have whiskey for after dinner, assuming you make it that far without anyone pulling an Angel Blade.

The doorbell rings.

Michael springs into action, smoothing his crisp ironed shirt once before jerking the front door open. The pleasant smile on his face evaporates as he stares into the chest in front of him.

“I forget you’re shorter in this form,” Ramiel rumbles, eyebrows raised in the precursor to an amused smirk.

“Sadly, while I can change my size there’s nothing to be done about your ego,” Michael snaps. Ramiel chuckles, musses Michael’s hair, and enters, pushing Michael aside.

“And here’s my favorite nestmate,” he says, spreading his arms for a hug. You set the wine on the table, letting Ramiel wrap his long arms around you. He pulls back, eyes going wide and eyebrows again shooting up. “Now I understand what the dinner is about. Got a bun in the oven, don’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ramiel. Everything is already out of the oven.” Michael sounds petulant, displeased by the brusque dismissal of your fellow Fallen.

“Oh Michael. Don’t ever change,” Ramiel replies, his condescending tone making your lover bristle.

“Anybody breaks anything other than bread in this house and I will kick your sorry feathers,” you threaten, wagging a finger at Ramiel. “And I don’t want to see any wings popping out. Save it for not in my home.”

Your most troublesome nestmate holds up his hands, feigning innocence. “Well, at least with Michael around you’ve already experienced the level of hand-holding and monitoring a kid requires.”

“I am not a child! Point in fact Gabriel is younger than me,” Michael pipes up.

“So that—”

“Ramiel,” you warn, knowing he was going to make another comment at Michael’s expense. “Is it really that amusing to battle wits with an unarmed opponent?”

“Sporting, no,” Ramiel says, pulling out a chair and sitting down, leaning back on two legs, ignoring your sigh. His grin is wide and unrepentant. “Entertaining? Most definitely.”

“Why did you insist on inviting him again?” Michael demands, sitting across from Ramiel and glaring daggers at your prank-prone nestmate.

“Because we can’t choose our family, and he’s part of it,” you say in a voice so sweet sugar has nothing on it. Both Michael and Ramiel appear to stop breathing, turning to look at you with wary eyes. Sometimes, you think, it’s easier to play nice. Makes them paranoid without you having to go through the effort of concocting a punishment or figuring out what to leverage to make them behave. Let their imaginations run wild thinking of what you might have up your sleeve.

“I see I’ve arrived just in time.” You look up to find Israfel has invited himself in, a much quieter entrance than Ramiel’s. He’s dressed with a kind of casual elegance, a long cream cardigan over a white ensemble that on anyone else would look over the top. On his long frame, however, there’s a dignity and grace that makes your attempt to dress Michael up look cheap. You glance over at your lover. At least he hasn’t clawed the tie off his neck yet, and for the most part it’s still straight.

“Israfel,” you greet, letting him sweep you into a hug. He kisses the top of your head, smiling fondly down at you.

“Hello little sister,” he greets. Things had been strained for a while after your Fall, but much of it had been mended when Israfel showed you his own black wings. If you weren’t in Heaven, then he didn’t want to be either. He still doesn’t approve of everything you do, but that’s one of the beauties of being Fallen; you can disagree without there being a wrong and right party, as there’s not much of a governing oversight on Fallen.

And what there is happens to be headed by your father, allowing you to quite literally get away with murder.

“It must be big news you have to share,” Israfel whispers, amusement twinkling in his eyes. Narrowing your eyes, you scowl at him.

“Why do I even bother?” you ask.

He shrugs. “The most oblivious party here is half-responsible for your current state, so I’m not certain. Perhaps you should sit down before your father arrives; I doubt you want him knowing before the food is at least served.”

Rolling your eyes—you aren’t fooled, you know he’s using it as an excuse to get you off your feet—you pull out the chair next to Michael and sit down.

Immediately you catch Ramiel’s troublesome grin, and groan.

“You know, Michael, humans may not be your favorite creature but even they are aware enough to make sure their pregnant mates have, say, their chair pulled out for them.” He swirls the wine he’d helped himself to around his glass, watching it with faux fascination, as if the conversation were of no importance.

Michael’s face goes white, a retort on his lips when Israfel sinks into a seat, hands folded neatly on the table in front of him, head tilted to the side. “Gabriel might not be quite as she once was, but she is no delicate human either,” he comments, reaching out and pouring himself a glass of wine, the color matching his ensemble well.

Daniel glances around, ensuring everything is out where it should be before he takes a seat as well, his eyes darting eagerly to the food.

“Great. We’re all here. Can we eat now?” Michael’s petulance is one of the few qualities that hasn’t markedly improved since falling, and you can practically hear the collective sigh everyone holds back.

“Still never learned to count, I see.” You don’t bother turning around, knowing full well who it is. Lucifer had this building built for you and you’ve long since stopped expecting him to enter through the front door like a normal visitor. He has a flair for the dramatic, and at least it’s not another Hellhound pup.

Speaking of which, you reach out with your foot, encountering other feet but no hound sneaking around for scraps.

 Michael pastes a smile on, his hands disappearing under the table. “Lucifer,” he greets. Ramiel gives Lucifer a two fingered salute, once again leaning his chair back. Israfel inclines his head to Lucifer, a gentle smile on his face.

“Oh good. You remember my name. I had feared that your memory might have been going along with your inability to count.”

“Dad, be nice,” you warn before gesturing to the open spot. “You are in his house.”

“A house I paid for, had built, and warded,” Lucifer responds, moving fluidly to his seat, seeming to simply pour himself into the chair without having to pull it out from the table. It’s a little disconcerting to watch but reminds you that he isn’t always so human in appearance.

“If you weren’t Gabriel’s father, she wouldn’t need half of these wards,” Michael points out.

“If I weren’t Gabriel’s father, you wouldn’t be here either,” Lucifer retorts. Israfel and Ramiel takes sips of their respective drinks, one resigned, the other amused. Michael opens his mouth to retort and you clear your throat. This could go on all night and you haven’t even gotten to share your news yet.

“So… can we eat before it gets cold?” Daniel asks, looking at you with large eyes. You give him a nod, and he immediately starts piling food on his plate. A curious phenomenon you had observed with teenagers, or at least the three who frequented your house for a long time, is that they eat far more than the average human, and yet never seem to feel full.

Being pregnant seems to be roughly equivalent to being a teenager, at least in terms of food consumption. You always seemed to be running by the stores, picking up groceries and whatever odd combination of food your unborn child seems to crave. One good thing about having Michael for a partner is that he’s unfamiliar with normal human cuisine and thus sees nothing wrong with combinations such as peanut butter on pickles and cheese with ice-cream.

Daniel has learned to be cautious when he hears the fridge open at odd hours lest his appetite be ruined. Watching him now, it seems like that would be an impossible feat, but you have seen it happen,

The table falls blissfully silent while food is served, everyone respecting the sanctity of a good meal—or the fact that you won’t hesitate to kick any of their asses if they don’t.

“Not that I don’t enjoy getting to sit down to a meal with my daughter,” Lucifer is the first to break the silence, “but I doubt you would get the entirety of the nest together just for family dinner. Something you want to share?”

It’s your turn to play innocent. “What, I can’t just enjoy a family meal? The family that Falls together, stays together don’t you know.” No one laughs at your joke, though Ramiel shakes his head in pity

You glance at Michael. Might as well tell him now, then. In the future you’ll have to schedule more family dinners, if only to prevent your nestmates from being suspicious. Being predictable has never been a compliment as far as your concerned. Predictable is only one step away from complacent, and with the kind of enemies you have, you cannot afford either, especially when you’re about to bring a new life into this world.

Michael shakes his head, jabbing with far more force than required at his food. You tilt your head. Michael flicks his gaze to Lucifer. You roll your eyes. Michael’s fork screeches painfully against the plate.

Lucifer clears his throat, gaze resting on the pair of you.

“I’m going to college!” Daniel’s announcement blessedly drags the attention of the group away from your and Michael’s silent argument.

“It’s not that far,” Ramiel comments. “It’s not like this is your last supper.”

Silence greets his comment.

“Oh come on! Last supper? I mean, sure, there’s only six of us total, but I mean we’ve got the King of Hell himself so it’s like—like some sort of hellish version.”

You reach over and pat his arm. “Ramiel, dear, if you have to explain it… it’s not funny.”

“It was better than yours,” he mutters, retreating behind his wine glass.

“Didn’t you know that human?” Michael asks, eyes narrowing as he looks at you.

“‘That human,’ Michael, was one of the most brilliant minds humanity has ever hosted, I’m sure in no small part to his personal muse,” Lucifer comments, smiling at you. “My daughter is quite the inspiring force.”

“But it’s a rather strange painting don’t you think? First of all, it’s not accurate at all to the region or the time period he’s attempting to paint, and then everyone is gathered on one side of the table—that would be terribly awkward and far overcrowded and—”

Daniel clears his throat. “Anyways, since I’m going off to college, we thought this would be, uh, a nice way to send me off.”

“But you’ll be back,” Michael states, brow furrowed, successfully derailed from his rant but now busy trying to apply his brand of logic to Daniel’s statement. Daniel glances at you for help. Subtlety is not Michael’s strong suit. “It’s not like you’re dying or anything. By my understanding humans can live for a century or so now. And you aren’t human, so you’ll be around for longer than that. I mean, you survived Gabriel.”

The smack to Michael’s arm isn’t gentle.

“And what does that mean?” you inquire, head tilted to one side, a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. Michael’s eyes widen, recognizing danger in the faux sweet smile you flash him.

“Nothing, dearest.” You turn back to your food and manage to get a bite in before Michael opens his mouth and sticks in his left foot, his right foot, and all six of his wings.

“Well, not nothing. I mean, you did try to kill him when you first met.”

You can feel your left eye twitch. “So I did,” you state placidly, taking your napkin and dabbing at your lips.

Israfel reaches for the wine and refills his glass. Ramiel reaches for another helping of food. Lucifer leans back in his chair, though unlike Ramiel he keeps all four feet of the chair solidly on the ground, watching with amusement, while Daniel looks between the two of you as if to play referee.

“And the fact that you can go from nearly obliterating him at first meeting to having him reach the age of legal majority by which human laws state he is now responsible for himself is a feat that should be celebrated. He’s—”

You hold up your index finger. “I’m not the only one who tried to kill him.”

“Well, no, of course not. But you were never very good at the whole loyal to Heaven bit and following orders. I mean, there’s a reason you Fell.”

Israfel drains his glass. Ramiel arches an eyebrow. “There’s a reason all of us here have Fallen,” he points out, for once acting like the voice of reason. “At least Gabriel Fell of her own choice. You were the whipped one who couldn’t stand to live without her. So really, who has the greater reason for Falling? Gabriel because of her beliefs? Or you because of love?”

“Thank you, Ramiel,” you say in a brittle tone. He shrugs, and then continues because he’s never known when to stop.

“Look, I know to knock on your door for a reason now because, well, if you weren’t already Fallen, I don’t know, seeing some of the things you two get up to—”

“THANK YOU, RAMIEL.” Your voice is louder this time. Daniel is staring fixedly at his plate, and Michael is gawping next to you.

“When did he—?” your lover demands, turning to you.

“He’s not the only one,” Daniel mumbles. “If brain bleach were a thing…”

Thoroughly scandalized, Michael turns to Daniel. “I would have noticed if you walked in!”

“I’m pretty sure the time I stopped by you were too busy on your knees,” Israfel adds, one elegant finger flicking out to the side. “Your windows aren’t nearly as one-way as you think they are.”

Michael looks apoplectic, his skin turning an interesting shade of mauve. “Excuse me?” he demands, starting to come out of his seat.

“Oh please, sit down. It’s not like those of us with wings haven’t seen all that and more,” Lucifer replies, sounding bored. “Just because you thought it was kinky to hold hands doesn’t mean that the rest of us live under a rock. Good thing you live on earth; I think Hell would make you combust on the spot.”

“I did—holding hands—I know what sex is!”

“I’m glad you know what sex is. I hope for my daughter’s sake you’re at least passable at it.”

It’s your turn to want to sink into your seat. This is not a conversation that you wanted to have happen. Ever.

“More than passable,” Michael snaps. “In fact, if we—”

“Why is this a conversation for a family dinner?” Daniel asks you with desperate eyes, his voice raised to cut across Michael.

“Because this family is literally from Hell?” Ramiel supplies. He winces abruptly, and glares at Israfel who hasn’t appeared to move at all.

“Not from Hell,” Lucifer corrects, taking a bread roll, completely unperturbed by any of the topic changes. “I might rule it, but we are all from Heaven. Except for Daniel, but he’s the least disastrous one here.”

“Dad!” It’s your turn to be shocked, staring at your father in betrayal.

“You picked him,” Lucifer says mildly, gesturing to Michael with his bread roll. He rips it in half, sets half down, and then rips the half into quarters. “Daniel had no choice in the matter. That, my dearest, makes you a bigger disaster than him.”

“And how did I earn disaster?” Israfel asks, blinking at the King of Hell.

“Guilty by association,” Lucifer comments. “You would think after a few millennia some of your tranquility would have rubbed off on this lot, but they seem impervious to it.”

This time he gestures to you, your lover, and Ramiel.

“Ramiel is like a brick wall; oblivious to almost everything,” you point out dryly.

“If I’m a brick wall, I hate to think what that makes Michael,” Ramiel retorts, lips twitching up. Oh. No.

“Don’t you—”

“I mean but at least he knew he was in love with you. What do you call someone who doesn’t notice that for—”

The rest of Ramiel’s sentence is lost as a bread roll smacks him in the middle of his obnoxious gob. The smirk that he’s wearing as he catches the falling bread roll is almost worse, however.

“At least nothing is on fire?” Daniel supplies with a sheepish grin and a shrug.

“Daniel, if you’re considered normal, it is in spite of all of us,” Israfel informs him drolly.

“Normal is overrated. Besides, next to Josie? I think just about anyone could be considered normal,” Daniel responds.

You preemptively reach over and step on Michael’s toes to prevent something uncouth from pouring out of his mouth.

Michael looks affronted, but it’s better than the alternative.

Lucifer yawns, and shakes the empty wine bottle. “So, are we going to get to the elephant in the room or not?”

Everyone else exchanges glances, you hunting for the source of the leak and finding wide-eyed innocence—Daniel—resigned sibling apathy—Israfel—a mixture of amusement and the knowledge that he’s going to get in trouble no matter what he does—Ramiel—and finally panic verging on stubborn refusal—Michael.

“There’s no pachyderm in the room, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Ever predictable, Michael,” Lucifer comments with a sigh, elegant fingers wrapped around the stem of his goblet. That’s not the dishware you had set on the table to begin with, but you’ve been around Lucifer long enough to cease being surprised by his quirks, such as altering his surrounding to suit his aesthetic. The first few times he had visited you had found various pieces of furniture changed, or one time, an entire painting that hadn’t been there before. You kept the latter—Da Vinci holds a special place in your heart, and you were the inspiration behind it.

“How?” you ask.

Lucifer arches one elegant eyebrow. “How? My dear, I have been around since before any of you were even a thought. I’ve observed worlds come into existence and be snuffed out. I’ve even been pregnant before—the signs are not difficult to discern.”

He lifts his glass, liquid filling it from the bottom up, a deep blood red wine. “Not to mention that you forget that the wards on this building keep auras and the like undetectable from those on the outside. I could feel my grandchild the second I entered the building.”

“My child,” Michael corrects, scowling.

“Ours,” you say, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.

“Hopefully they take after their mother and not their father,” Lucifer says, draining his glass. “And you’ve known I’m Gabriel’s father longer than anyone, Michael. You can’t deny I’m part of the family. In fact, I think humans might even consider me your father-in-law.”

The horror on Michael’s face makes you sigh. Back to zero.

“You’re a Fallen now, Michael. There’s no Host to condemn you for dating the ‘Devil’s’ daughter. Hell, I wager there’s a few Fallen who would envy your position.” Lucifer’s eyes flick to Ramiel.

Ramiel clears his throat and sinks down in his chair.

“Alright, enough. Michael, get over it.” Michael turns to you, and you look at him with narrowed eyes.

“I’m Fallen. You’re Fallen. Everyone here has black wings. Pointing fingers is literally like the pot calling the kettle black.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Cookware doesn’t speak.”

You can feel an impending headache.

“On the plus side, since Michael is pure Fallen, he doesn’t require sleep like you.” Lucifer’s smirk is wicked. “So every midnight crying, every two am feeding… I think that’s his by default.”

You perk up. “That’s a very good point father,” you say, pleased to see that no one has appropriated the cutlery for a preemptive strike.

Israfel quirks his lips. “Would a onesie with the word’s Little Angel be considered ironic then?” he wonders.

A laugh, perhaps a tinge hysterical, bubbles from your lips. It spreads, Ramiel starting to chuckle, then Daniel, Lucifer, Israfel’s light lyrical chuckle, and lastly even your mate.

“This isn’t funny,” Michael tries to say while trying to contain his own laughter.

 You shrug. “Matter of perspective, love. I prefer puns to fireballs.”

“Oh don’t be silly,” Lucifer comments. “I want dessert first, and then I might threaten to introduce Michael to a few of the old, extraplanar creatures that go bump in the night. Burnt feathers is a smell that doesn’t come out of your clothes easily.”

Michael’s laughter stops completely. “That was a joke, right?”

Lucifer tilts his head and smiles. “I guess we’ll see.”

#Michael only ro #Michael Ro #Michael romance #f!Gabriel #ko-fi request #dark!Gabriel #thanks for the coffee! #extra #humor #Kofi Request #Hope you enjoy

[illbeyourreasonwhy]

So Much I Think It Must Be...

Chapter 4: Not That We’re Friends

“You know, you sure know a lot about her for someone who supposedly hates her.” “I don’t hate her, exactly. I just… like getting on her nerves.” “You’re very good at it.” “I know, thank you.”

Chapter 4 of my Ambi Enemies to Friends to Lovers fic!! You can read it on ao3 here, and from the beginning here

*

“That one, absolutely.”

“Glad we agree,” Andi said, putting one shirt back on the rack and the other in TJ’s arms. “You know I can carry my own stuff, right?”

“Nah, you’re too tiny.”

“Gee, thanks.” She paid for the shirt and they moved to the next stand. “We should go thrift shopping more often.”

“Agreed. Hey, check it out!” He pulled her over to a man selling top hats, and he enthusiastically put one on. “What do you think?”

Andi brought her hands together, grinning. “So handsome. Definitely wear that when you ask Cyrus out.”

TJ took the hat off, blushing. “Shut up.”

They moved onto the next stand and Andi nudged him. “Seriously, why don’t you? Ask him out, I mean. You know he’d say yes.”

“No I don’t know that, Andi,” he said, cheeks still red.

“Oh my god, you’re right, you taking him out on a date will absolutely destroy his huge crush on you.”

“He does not have a crush on me.”

“Whatever you say, TJ.”

They stopped at an elderly woman’s stand so that Andi could look at the different fabrics she was selling; maybe she could use some for one of her projects.

“You really think he likes me?” TJ finally mumbled, about five minutes after the conversation had ended.

“About as much as you like him,” Andi answered softly.

TJ didn’t say anything, so Andi smiled and paid for a baby blue cloth. She was well aware of the fact that TJ was not, in fact, going to tell Cyrus how he felt anytime soon, and that Cyrus wasn’t either. The two of them had been pining for each other for over a year and a half, which was obvious to exactly everyone but them. Marty had organised a betting pool as to when they would get together; Andi had fifteen dollars weighing on junior prom, almost a year away.

“We should go dirt biking again sometime,” TJ said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “We haven’t gone in ages.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Andi agreed. “How about Monday?”

“Can’t, I’m working on Monday. Maybe we could go tomorrow, though?”

“No, I’m meeting with Walker.”

“Walker?” TJ repeated, surprised. “I didn’t know you two were talking again.”

“Yeah, we ran into each other the other day and we decided to work on a mural together. You know, for old times’ sake.”

“Huh.” TJ smirked. “Is anything going on?”

“No, none of that,” Andi said. “We’re just friends.”

“Alright.” He gestured to an orange shirt displayed on the other side of the street. “Hey, what do you think of that?”

“Orange isn’t my colour,” she shrugged. “I’d give it to Amber.”

TJ looked confused. “To… Amber?”

“Yeah, she hates orange.”

“That makes more sense,” he said. “You know, you sure know a lot about her for someone who supposedly hates her.”

“I don’t hate her, exactly. I just… like getting on her nerves.”

“You’re very good at it.”

“I know, thank you.”

He laughed, wrapping an arm around her and dragging her over to a teenager selling a series of basketball t-shirts. Andi had long since given up on trying to save his fashion sense, so she let him excitedly go through the pile as she looked around.

Her gaze landed on a group of girls a few stands ahead of them. They were looking at some cheap jewelry, and Andi’s eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to one of the girls, to her wavy hair, to the way it framed her face perfectly, to her eyes and the way they lit up when she smiled, to that one loose strand of hair, to –

“… right, Andi? Andi?”

“Huh?”

“I was just saying… Are you okay?”

TJ asked, looking worried. Andi forced a smile. “Yeah, all good. How many shirts are you buying?”

TJ frowned, looking concerned. “You’re encouraging me to buy these shirts?”

He ended up buying three and they kept walking. He started talking about the basketball championship, glancing at her every few seconds but not pushing her to talk, which she appreciated. She wasn’t sure what it was she was feeling, exactly, except that there was something in her heart telling her that she wasn’t sure how long she was going to be able to pretend that the way she was looking at girls was only noticing how pretty they were. She was noticing them.

And that terrified her.

She stayed mostly quiet for the hour that followed, until TJ dropped her off in front of her house.

“Hey, TJ?” she asked just as he was about to leave.

“Yeah?”

“How… did you know you were gay?”

He blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, before schooling his face back to normal. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious.”

She could tell he knew it wasn’t the whole truth, but he answered anyways. “I don’t know, I just… had crushes on boys. I didn’t even really think about it too much until… you know, everything that went down with Kira.”

“Right.” She glanced at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think of her.”

He waved it off. “Don’t worry, I’m over it.”

He put a hand on her shoulder, before getting back on his motorcycle.

“Hey, Andi, whatever it is that’s going on… You’re okay. You know that, right?”

She hesitated, before walking over to him and pulling him into a hug. It was awkward because of the bike, but he hugged her back. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He put his helmet back on. “So, dirt biking on… Tuesday?”

“Sounds good.”

*

“So, what are we working with?”

She and Walker were standing in front of a blank wall looking starkly similar to the one they had worked on together two years earlier. Walker brightened, gesturing to the paint behind him.

“I was thinking we could do a sort of nature theme, with a lot of green tones. Since we’re near the park and all that.”

“Alright,” Andi smiled. “Let’s get started.”

For the next hour they worked on it. Andi was having more fun than she remembered having in a long time; there was something so great in being able to work with someone on such a great surface.

“Wow, this actually looks good.”

They both turned to see Amber standing there. She looked impressed, despite the small twist at the corner of her lips.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Andi said, but there was no heat to it.

“I’m not. I know you guys are both art-geniuses or something.”

“Art-geniuses?”

“You know what I mean.”

Walker smiled at her. “You’re welcome to join us, if you want.”

Why, oh why, did all of Andi’s friends have to take a liking to Amber?

“Oh, you guys seem to be doing just fine, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Amber said, the twist in her lips deepening for a fraction of a second.

“Alright. Well, we’re running out of green paint, so I’m going to get some in my car. I’ll be back in five minutes,” Walker said.

Andi and Amber were left alone in an uneasy silence for a few seconds, before Amber straightened up. “Well, I best be going, too, so…”

Andi nodded, before turning back to look at the mural. She and Walker were about half-way done; it didn’t look like much yet, but when they would be done it would probably look spectacular.

“Wait, did you paint this? It looks horrid.”

She whirled around. “Excuse me?”

The guy who had spoken, a boy around her age, smirked, pointing at the painting. “I mean, come on, this looks absolutely awful. Like, a three-year-old could have done that.”

Andi blinked, her throat burning. Two years of feuding with Amber had made her pretty good at thinking of witty quips on her feet, but at the moment all she could think of was of how bad her hands were shaking and how hot her cheeks burned and how stupid she felt.

Until a new voice came in.

“Oh, and I suppose you think you could do better?”

Amber was back; she moved to stand in front of Andi, her arms crossed and looking absolutely murderous.

“Come on, step up, take a brush, I want to see what you can do.”

“I’m not some girl who paints in her free time.”

“Okay, a few things here,” Amber said. “I kind of feel like that was meant to be an insult, but I’m really failing to see how you thought that would be effective.” She uncrossed her arms, taking a step forward. “I mean, ‘girl’, really? You realise you’re trying to prove a point to two girls as you say that? And also, seriously? You’re what, sixteen, and you think ‘girl’ is an effective insult in 20-fucking-19?” She turned back to shoot a look at Andi, who was too frozen by what was happening to react. “And, I mean, if you want to diss her painting, you might want to go with something other than ‘someone who paints’; like, that’s just unimaginative.” She took another step forward. “And lastly, who do you think you are? What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “You done?”

“No, I’m not, actually,” Amber snapped. “What’s your problem? Yeah, she’s a pain in the ass, do you think that gives you a right to insult her?”

“Girl, chill out, no one insulted her.”

"No, you just humiliated her and wanted everyone to know that you are oh so superior because you were able to align three words to insult a work in progress."

"Everyone? You do realise that no one is here, right?"

“Right, which is a shame because no one is here to see how absolutely pathetic you are, trashing a painting just so that you’ll feel better about your sorry self.” Andi blinked. Amber crossed her arms, staring the boy down. “Get out of here.”

The boy scoffed, turning around and leaving. “Whatever, psycho.”

“Right, I’m the psycho for defending my friend.” She turned sharply to Andi. “Not that we’re friends.”

Andi nodded, still stunned. “Noted.”

Amber didn’t uncross her arms until the boy was out of sight. “What a jerk.”

Andi swallowed, still staring at Amber. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to act. Bitchy Amber she knew how to deal with. An Amber who had her back… that was new.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she finally said. “Thank you.”

“No big deal. I’m the only one who’s allowed to mess with you like that.”

Andi let out a surprised laugh. “I’m strangely honored.”

“Good. You should be.”

There was a hesitant smile on Amber’s lips, mirroring Andi’s perfectly. Her eyes wouldn’t meet Andi’s for more than a few seconds at a time, altering between looking down and glancing at the mural behind her. She played with the strap of her purse, looking almost vulnerable. (That was impossible, though. Amber didn’t get vulnerable. Not in front of Andi, at least.)

“Well… I’m going to get going. Have fun with…” she gestured at the painting, “… art, and everything.”

“Thanks.”

Amber turned, before glancing back at Andi, her smile strangely comforting.

“Hey, don’t listen to him. Your painting is… not that bad.”

Andi felt something bubble in her chest. “Is that as close to a compliment that you can get?” she asked, her smile fonder and less cynical than usual.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“I’ll take it.”

Amber smiled again. “See you around, Andi.”

“See you.”

She couldn’t help but watch her leave, averting her eyes hastily when Amber looked back so that she wouldn’t catch her staring.

#my writing #andiman #amber #amber kippen #tj kippen #walker brodsky #ambi #tyrus #ambi fanfic #ambi efl #andi mack