#Cab Klutz

[triple-pupil]

"Ah...!~

The adventures of a

SLUT!"

Verse from "Smut" by Tom Lehrer (aka: Cab's anthem)

[triple-pupil]

Also look at how Tomasitaoficial Drew My baby Cab. I love it.

More drawings below.

"ya tiny"

"Don't remind me..."

Tomi being silly and funny:

"There's nothing under my hair, just clouds-"

"Just didn't wanna do the rest-"

Me, feeling quirky that day:

Anyways yeah, fun times.

Drawings that I made on whiteboard with @triple-pupil !!

Fue muy divertido

Long post oejeorbodnd

[Click on the images that look low quality!]

The one with a single eye belongs to @its-nickpache and the one with eyes all around belongs to pupil, The one in the middle is mine!

“Sometimes I think that at any moment you are going to explode the sun from how crazy you are...”

“AND WHAT WOULD I GAIN?! I'VE ALREADY LOST MY SANITY”

“YOU KNOW, GABRIEL, I FELT LIKE BURNING IT ALL DOWN”

‘Someone stop him’

“pls”

AAAANNDDDD THIS DAMN DRAWING THAT PUPIL MADE, I LOVE THIS DRAWING, I SWEAR I LOVE HOW IT LOOKS AND HOW BEAUTIFUL IT LOOKS IN THEIR STYLE, OKAY?? THANK YOU, I WANTED TO MAKE THAT CLEAR.

They also made these draws of Lucybell (I love them grrr they are beautiful in their style) but the other one is my favorite xD

“I still remember how they killed my family...” (she killed them)

“miss, this is a Wendy's /j”

“Oh, is this a Wendy's-?”

Okay, That's it, well, Not really, THERE WERE MORE DRAWINGS, But truth be told, I'll only upload these, They were my favorites xD

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 15

Synopsis: The Doctor steps into his role as the wolf in this game, fully.

A/n: I had to tone down some of this smut. So it's a bit shorter than intended. Elsewise I fear the worst of tumblrs filtration system. LOL! Enjoy! Love you alllllll!

Apparently a young, fresh companion of his future self had formed this support group after several bad experiences and being dumped back on earth ‘for her safety’.

He didn’t have time to care for whatever this distraction was. He already was at the point of near-snapping. He was not going to risk anything into the future. Live under false pretenses. The cords of the actions set would not weaken under these new stressors…

Obviously, his little fawn would die. Obviously, he’d regenerate. Obviously, this would end.

He drew a line in the sand, no peeking at her or his shared fate.

Meeting her at the front of UNIT, and trying the best to not record any facet of this future girls face or being. Doing so would be a catastrophe, just skate down around and go off into the afternoon and his plans.

A perfect date that would further enchant his pet fawn to his side. Especially since she now had the nattering of other voices in her head regarding him. He had to undo the damage. Keep her from cleaving herself from his side.

He admitted to himself that he was spiraling- and just about ready to cross another line. It was just now a matter of how, and how far…

He set that in a corner of his brain how he would go about this.

She was currently entranced by the arrangement of coffees the café and the cacti available. He would have launched into a diatribe about flowers, but she was leading the charge here.

She was oddly well-versed in the secret meaning one could send another. He was impressed. A secret hyperfixation.

He indulged her and him.

One particular flower meant ‘I give you my soul’. He made a note to buy her some. A shallow offering. As he sold his soul long ago. Her knowledge of these meanings and the gesture would go on to create a meaningful ripple effect in the relationship.

Dinner was great, and a perfect segue to the new levels he needed to take.

It was a very deliberate. Give her a small glance, or trail up her exposed skin and a small hit of her own hormones amped up with a mental reimbursement. She was already becoming undone from her own natural need for him. The secondary reinforcement from him was just foreplay.

Humans loved a bit of touch.

This human was definitely no exception.

After a while, the perfect idea dawned on him. A less overt invasion than when they consummated the success of the term’s end the other week. A quieting one. Make up for the directed hormonal release by appealing to darker desires. He knew the thoughts she held for him. Play into some of those fantasies while he shut down the dissent from within.

He paid for the meal and playfully dragged his fawn into a cab, a bit of dancing…and a bit of glamor. He fully realized that there was no turning back now.

The darkness inside him grinned.

He grinned back.

She wasn’t the most agile at the waltz they preformed. A natural-born klutz. The way she was looking at him reminded him so much of the gaze that she held when they first made true contact. Intrigued, deeply in thought, a bit distracted but firmly all for him.

Eventually, the last call for drinks at the dance hall rang. He paid their tab.

He absconded off with her in tow. Back to UNIT. Back to their room. Back for the next phase in his own self-corruption.

She planted a kiss on his forehead as she went off to get herself ready for bed.

The Doctor started stripping himself down to his bare flesh, save for his boxers.

She came back, with a thick layer of product smeared onto her chest, neck and face.

“I’d like to try something new with you. Always been a secret that I’ve had since we’ve started this…” He lied, like a liar. “But I’ve been so concerned about your fragile human body…”

She finished rubbing some hand crème in.

“Oh?” Her eyebrow arched itself over the ridge of her forehead.

“I want to take you on a chair. I want to bend you over, grab a fist-full of your hair as you dangle over the top and have my way with you.” He didn’t fully elaborate what exactly fantasies she held, just put the carrots out and have her think.

“We could do that. Bit tired, but sure! I’m game!” She started to remove her robe.

He pounced and ripped it and her clothes off, tearing them in the process. Hungry kisses he began laying on her as he spun her around and took one wrist to march her over to the chair in the room. (‘Cuck chair’ he delightfully recalled her calling it weeks previously…)

She started to get on willingly, it wasn’t enough. He picked her up and placed her in the position he saw in her mind. The chair let out a little creaking noise with the weight of her.

He bit the back of her neck, not hard enough to deter her income-base, but enough that it would leave a pleasurable bruise. Gone within a week at maximum.

His cock stood at attention. Hard and aching from it all. He had to have and fully make sure she’d never stray or even think of leaving him. He’d been, quite frankly, nursing a little bit of a stiffness down there since she smacked his ass and snogged him on the Tube.

He grabbed at her hair like a leash on a dog and slid himself in to her cunt and her mind.

A man on a mission…

He kept pushing himself in and out of her, but going deeper into her brain. He found the brush she had with his past and future companions. He quieted these voices and the doubts they gave permanently. Still allowing her to keep the friendships blooming and the memories, but revoking the feelings of inadequacy and the fears of the future. The doubts. The everything. A very delicate and deliberate job.

The pruning was difficult, as her mind was very distracted by the current sensations of him pulling her neck back to a semi-dangerous level. Just to kiss her on the lips and tell her, “What a perfectly filthy girl you’re being…” That shuffled her brain like a deck of cards.

The words, especially, they made her audibly shiver. He briefly let go.

He grasped a fistful of her hair again and pressed his mouth once more to her neck. He slid himself to the absolute maximum her tight cunt could handle. He bit down, gently touching the new wound with his tongue. Savoring the taste of her neck, now inflamed so close he swore he could taste her blood through the developing bruise…

He grazed her ear lobe with his eye-tooth and breathed a hot, needy breath into it, he rolled her one nipple in the

He inhaled her hair once more. Its scent just as delicious and just as addictive as he was trying to be to her…

Gently, he laid her back into her stomach over the chair’s back. Her back was beautiful as he ran his hands up and down it, raking his nails like the claws of the wolf he kept coming back to in his analogies.

He pressed his full body weight down, tilting the chair into the wall and bracing, it, her and him from total disrepair. Or concussion.

A concussion on her brain would undo all his fine-tuning and actually make it harder to deal with her mind.

And he needed it in as best of condition as he could have it!

He kept his pace up as he leaned down to bite her nape of the neck, carried away, he drew a tad bit of blood. It dotted itself up around the divots of the fresh wound.

He flooded her mind discreetly once more. Bringing her to her first orgasm mentally. His work was done and fine tuned.

He sped up his pace and grabbed her up by the collarbone. Sliding her down over his knees, firmly set in the seat of it. He grabbed her legs and slid them over and tucked her feet and ankles between the backs of his calves and thighs.

He drilled her more, tougher, the rate he went bordered on blood-lust. He couldn’t tell if her cries and grunts were in pain or pleasure. He went back in to her mind to see if he was going to far.

He wasn’t. It was both.

It egged him on, he unexpectedly lost control and he came before he wanted to. He went on as he felt himself coming to bring her another orgasm with her mind, and forced her body to react accordingly…

He relinquished his hold on her body and got out of her and stood up. She slumped over. Shivering. Shaking. Breathing heavily.

The Doctor didn’t know what all he was feeling. Pride, disgust, relaxation? A mixture? It was a tad too overwhelming.

He had to go to her…

He moved to the side of the chair, crouching down. Finding eye-contact. She had a very unreadable expression on her face.

“Hey, how are you?” He went for the simplest route.

“I…think….you fucked…my brains out. Not exaggerating. I feel like people say. Fuck.” She exhaled after a minute of reflection and catching her breath.

He peeled her off the chair and carried her to the bed. He laid her simply on her back, head up.

“I think I need to buy another set of pajamas now.” She turned her head over and looked at the pile of ruined cloth on the ground.

“You were so good.” He praised her.

“And you weren’t too bad yourself…” She replied, again. Keeping herself, and by extension him, in check.

After what felt like several hours, but was in all actuality, fifteen minutes, she pulled her body off the bed.

“I need to shower again. Yeah.” Her voice as quiet as a fall of a grain of sand.

“I’ll join you. If we need to sleep, we’ll need to be cleaned.” He said.

They showered, she redid her skincare, and they held each other in bed.

She was asleep, he didn’t need to sleep.

As he gazed at the wall, and contemplated the meeting with Gwen Cooper-Williams the next day, it dawned on him:

The beginnings of the story of Little Red Riding Hood was a folklore in the deep dark annals of European history. A dark passionate tale in origin about the defilement of a young maiden and a beastly wolf-man way beyond her years. In some, the wolf-man left her and she killed herself from being impure. In some, she was corrupted and became worse than him. Really depended upon the cultural values of the little tribes telling this shared story.

And here he was, living the fairytale out in real time.

It was up to him now, this wolf had a choice.

And he would not let either happen.

The hunt was finished.

Now to fully devour.

Game over.

[kathryn-writes]

When I was in my 20s, I took part in one of those color run 5ks. I was excited, it was going to be amazing!

About halfway through, I rolled my ankle. Badly. (I'm a klutz, this stuff happens...). But the shock then set in and suddenly I was not feeling the badly rolled ankle nearly as much so I decided to walk the rest of the race with my friends. Calling organizers to come get me on one of those carts would have been embarrassing. Stopping midway and hailing a cab to stay off it was expensive.

So I walked at least another 3 miles - to the finish and then on public transit home.

And WOW did I mess up my ankle doing that. It hurt so much after the shock wore off that I could not put any weight on it at all. What might have taken a few days to be a bit better ended up taking weeks.

You know how I could have avoided it? By recognizing that I was hurt and asking for help, rather than limping along pretending everything was okay, because it wasn't.

Now think of that ankle as your brain. There are going to be times that you know your mental health is suffering. And you're limping along for the next 3 miles pretending it's not.

It's going to take a lot longer for it to heal. Just like an ankle.

[spectoris]

almost home

summary: you put your faith in peter only for him to let you down

pairing: raimi!peter parker x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, established relationship

warnings: mild angst

word count: 1.1k

a/n: i’ve resurfaced w a fic for my favorite spider-man 🫶 ngl this is pretty ambiguous so you could picture this with tasm!peter parker or mcu!peter parker.

gif by @nighxtmare 

Before the sun fully sets, Peter races down the street on his bike, cringing each time the wheels heave beneath his weight. He pedals with all the might his legs can muster, throwing apologies over his shoulder as people jump out of his way.

Peter is shamefully late. Worse that it’s the one event he should’ve taken work off for (especially when you asked him to spend the day with you), and he promised he’d make it on time. But now he’s here, swerving past honking cars and jaywalkers, trying to get to the next street before the light turns red. Swinging would’ve been much faster (and safer), but after another day of Jonah Jameson tearing into Spider-Man, he’d rather not. Plus, you also asked for Peter, not the superhero, and made him swear he’d leave the mask behind.

One glance at his watch tells Peter twenty more seconds until he’s officially half an hour late, and it’ll take another ten minutes (without obstacles) before he reaches home. He feels his phone vibrating in his pocket, but he can’t answer unless he wants the klutz in him to ram into something and break his only way home (other than the webs).

The sun has completely gone down when he stops at the driveway, sweat soaking his t-shirt. Peter throws his bike down by the gate and races to the front door, glad it’s unlocked. He spots you seated at the kitchen table fiddling with your fingers, back turned to him. Peter furrows his brows when he sees you dressed in ordinary clothes, below par with the dress code of the restaurant.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Peter bends down and kisses your cheek. You answer with a sharp inhale, turning your head away from his confused face.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” he continues. “If we hail a cab at 2nd Street, we’ll make it in-”

“Do you know what time it is?” Your voice is painfully quiet and quivering. The sound makes a harsh chill run through Peter’s body, and his heart sinks when you finally reveal your puffy, red-rimmed eyes.

“It’s 8:30. You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”

“I-”

“I asked for one thing, Peter. One. And you couldn’t even do it for me. For us.”

Peter gulps. He knows there’s nothing he can say to defend himself, not that he feels the need to. You’re completely in the right; he saw how much it took in you to ask him to stay home knowing how much he loved his job, having to live with the fear that one day something terrible’s going to happen and Spider-Man won’t be around to help. But there was nothing today other than the usual shoplifting and other petty crimes, things he didn’t even need to put the mask on for. While it made him feel good in the moment, you were at home waiting for him the entire day.

“Our reservation was at 8,” you say, rising from your seat. “Someone else probably has our seats by now.”

Peter follows you to the staircase where you make an effort not to look at him. He calls your nam and his body stops him from making it past the first step. At the very top before you turn to your room, you give him a long, sad look.

“Happy anniversary, Peter.”

The hours of the night blur together, but you’re still awake. Peter hasn’t come in once, not a single creak of the door or a gust of wind from the window. Even Spider-Man can’t sneak in that quietly; you’d still feel the mattress sink under his weight, him shuffling around, maybe try to cuddle you. Sure enough, when you roll over, his side of the bed is empty. He must’ve slept on the couch or gone swinging like he usually does when he’s stressed.

You decide to go downstairs for a glass of water, maybe tea to help sleep takeover. The darkness of your home makes you believe you’re alone until you hear rummaging through the cupboards. Peeking your head into the kitchen, Peter’s making two cups of tea in the matching mugs your friends got you as a joke, spooning extra honey into yours. The faintest smile appears when he silently offers it to you, letting you sidle up to him by the counter.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks, knowing the answer.

You shake your head. “I thought you were out.”

“Out? Why would I be out?”

“Dunno, maybe cause I...” The words are stuck in your throat. One long look at Peter reveals the bag under his eyes and his disheveled hair. Behind him, you see a few cans of energy drinks poking out from the trash.

“Oh my god, Peter- Did you even try to sleep?”

He scratches the back of his neck, about to speak when you grab his face with both hands, turning it side to side for you to inspect.  

“Geez, you haven’t looked this terrible since you stayed up for tests in high school.”

“Ouch,” he laughs.

It’s then you realize how close you are, feelings each other’s breaths. This proximity isn’t strange, but considering how the night went earlier, you drop your hands, surprised when Peter grabs them again, covering yours with his.

“I can’t sleep knowing you’re upset,” he admits. “Especially when it’s because of me.”

The last ounces of bitterness remain in the pit of your stomach. You want to stay a little mad, as selfish as it sounds, dragging out this one-sided, petty battle. But the frailness in his eyes chips at your resolve, forcing you to melt into the warmth of his touch.

“I messed up big time,” he says. “And I’m sorry, I really am. I was stupid and selfish.”

“It’s okay, it’s not a big deal-”

“It is a big deal. I made a promise to keep the people in this city happy, and that includes you. I broke that promise.”

Peter kisses the corner of your mouth and whispers into your skin. “I love you a lot, you know that?” He kisses the other corner. “So much.” Another kiss, this time a peck to your lips. “I won’t make the same mistake again.”

When he tries to peck you again, you lean in for a deeper kiss. There’s the faint taste of cherry on his lips from the energy drinks. He swears he smells his cologne on your shirt. Even when your head spins from the lack of air, you keep kissing, unable to let go. And when you do, Peter keeps himself close, nose pressed into your cheek. You smile on his face, the yearning in his eyes, makes your heart explode into a thousand pieces.

“I’m assuming you forgive me?”

“Oh, shut up,” you laugh, throwing your arms around his neck.

With his hands clasped behind your back, you sway back and forth in the comforting silence of your kitchen until it’s broken by two special words.

“Happy anniversary.”

[chilligyu]

info: wen junhui/reader, teen+, soulmate au genre: angst, romance | word ct: 2k warnings: descriptions of injuries, scars, blood, hospitals summary: forever was a powerful word, and it was the only word he could think of when he imagined his soulmate. someone who was just as powerful as she was terrifying. because forever was a powerful word, and it scared him to no end. author's note: please read! this soulmate au deals with soulmarks in the form of injuries. once someone turns 18 their body will be marked with their soulmates scars and they will acquire all of their future injuries (i know it's a little confusing, story explains it better). if talks of scars and blood make you uncomfortable, respectfully, this fic will not be your cup of tea. thank you all!

Forever. Never, in all of Junhui’s life, had he heard a more terrifying word. He hated the permanency of it, the idea of being stuck doing one thing, being with one person. The thought of it alone made his skin itch. He loved being able to get on a train and go absolutely anywhere, loved never being tied down, loved being free. Sometimes he didn’t even know where home was, where he’d be sleeping, and that’s when he was most happy. He couldn’t explain it, nor did he want to.

What scared him most, was what he was destined for, what forever truly meant for him. For years he was told how his life would change, how it would never be the same once he became an adult. And he believed them. No matter how much he hated it, he’d have to be delusional not to. Because he’d been watching it play out on his skin since he turned 18. He’d been watching his body pucker with scars, little nicks here and there, for the better part of four years. A thin line across the back of his hand, a surgical scar on his stomach, it was so nerve-wracking. Because he hadn’t been injured.

His soulmate had, and he was a first-hand witness.

That was the sad existence he was left with, the one he’d been running from for years. He lived in a world where everyone was covered in the injuries and scars of their soulmate. Your body wasn’t a canvas of your own life, it was the story of someone else’s. And God Junhui hated that more than anything. That his life wasn’t his own anymore and there was nothing he could do about it.

It all became real for him when he came home from school on his 18th birthday. He shouldered off his bag and was getting ready to shower when he saw the bright pink mark on his stomach. A little thing, only two inches in length, half an inch wide, almost completely negligible. At first, he was confused, then scared, and finally—mortified.

No. He said to himself as he inspected the scar. Please tell me this is a lie.

For years he stared at his own body, repulsed and confused by the injuries that kept cropping up. His friends would laugh at the little marks, claiming that his soulmate was a complete klutz. Still, he refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t care what sort of scar showed up on his body, he refused to care. He refused to think about the one person who was tied to his entire existence. No matter what they were going through. He didn’t care when the eight inch gash appeared on his arm, nor did he care when he saw the surgical scar sprawled across his knee. It was just skin, scar tissue and skin. It didn’t mean anything.

Or that’s what he tried to convince himself.

Sometimes, if the injury was bad enough, he would even feel the pain from it. One day he was walking to work, and suddenly he was struck by an intense migraine. The throbbing alone was enough to make him want to puke. The world was spinning, he could barely feel the ground underneath his feet when he caught his reflection in a store window. His eyebrow had split open, a single trickle of blood streaking his face.

What happened? He found himself wondering despite himself. Are they—are they okay?

Before that moment, he had never actually bled from one of his soulmate’s wounds. And it terrified him. He had only seen the injuries once they’d healed, meaning that the danger, and pain, was over. That little bead of blood meant—meant that this was real. That on the other side of his scars was a real person. He hated forever, he hated the word, hated the meaning, hated what he was forced to endure because fate had better plans for him.

But still, he couldn’t help but wonder. And that was harmless, right?

Going to the doctor after that was interesting, because he had to get a full body X-Ray to see what sort of damage his new body had endured. Standard protocol when you turned 18, he’d just been putting it off for as long as he could. Injuries from his soulmate's childhood were clear against the backlight, several broken bones from when they were young, or reckless, or both. Without realizing it, Junhui found himself smiling at the sight. It was sort of comforting, knowing that he’ll always have this part of someone else. That it’ll never leave him.

He gingerly touched each wound and tried to imagine the story behind them. There was this one right up his shin, very old, very faded, it reminded him of the one time he fell off his bike as a kid. Maybe he had something in common with his soulmate. Maybe they had a similar past. He had no idea, but it was fun to wonder.

For periods of time, Junhui wouldn’t accumulate any new marks, and he felt lonely. He pretended like he didn’t, he continued on as he usually did. A string of flings and drunken escapades kept him busy, but they just—they weren’t as fun anymore. Car rides with no destination, late nights underneath the stars, the things he loved most no longer held the same weight. He felt stupid, selfish, wishing for some sign of his soulmate. Because that meant that they’d have to get hurt for it to happen.

And then, he thought he lost them.

He was getting set up for a gig, plugging in his mic and laughing with the stagehands, when he felt his life flash before his eyes. Like he’d been crushed by a car. The pain was so excruciating, he was finding it hard to breathe. Collapsing to the floor, he could’ve sworn that he saw a bright light above him. Tears streaked his face, his stomach churned like the red sea—he thought he was dying. He had no idea what was going on, until—until he realized that he was fine. That his soulmate—that his soulmate might’ve—

Pulling up his shirt, he watched a deep gash form on his stomach and a deep bruise color his whole abdomen. Propping himself up onto his elbows, he instantly fell back to the ground. Looking at his arm, he noticed the swelling. He was being covered in bruises, several of his bones were broken, and he only had one thought on his mind.

I have to find them.

He managed to get to his feet, finding his right leg weaker than he remembered, and he practically sprinted out of the bar. Pulling out his phone, he started searching every news site he could think of, looking for any news of any sort of car crash. Of any sort of accident.

Every few minutes or so, he’d check to make sure that his scars were still there. That his soulmate hadn’t left him. Because that’s what everyone truly fears, and the one thing Junhui has grown to fear more than forever. When you slowly see your soulmate's scars clear up, when your skin is your own once more, it means one of two things.

Either you’ve found your soulmate, or your soulmate is dead.

Please stay alive. He found himself begging, finally catching word of a couple car accidents in the past day. He scrolled through them, scrolled through the pictures of victims, desperately trying to find them. Dozens of faces blurred past his vision, and he finally stopped at a picture of a young woman. A woman with a small scar on her chin, just like the cut Junhui got when he was a kid and banged his chin on a coffee table.

After years of denying her existence, he had finally found his soulmate. For a brief moment, he was caught in some sort of trance, completely awestruck by the person who was a permanent part of his life. She was beautiful, perfect, everything he had ever dreamed of and feared all at once. It broke his heart, knowing that it took her getting hit by a car for him to find her.

When he figured out which hospital she was taken to, he hailed a cab and paid him extra to get him there as fast as he could. As he rode, he read the article more thoroughly, reading about how she was hit by a drunk driver, how she was in critical condition, and how she was in a medically induced coma. He had to fight back tears, knowing that she might not make it.

Arriving at the hospital, he showed the front desk her picture, desperate to find her any way that he could. They confirmed that she was there, that she had just got out of surgery. They kept telling him that only family could see her, that he’d have to wait until she was out of the ICU, and a million other things that he didn’t give a damn about. He had to see her.

“She’s my soulmate.” He whispered, trying not to lose it. “Please, please, let me see her.”

Even though the nurses were conflicted, they eventually let him in. Thanking them quickly, he sprinted down the hall to her room, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t lose her. Not before she was even a part of his life. Not before he could even tell her how important she was to him. He hadn’t even met her yet, and yet if she died – then his life would be over.

He slowed down as he got closer, his heart beating in his ears. She was just a few doors down, she was so close, he could feel it deep down inside. As he stood outside her door, he tried to calm himself down, he inhaled and exhaled, attempting to stabilize the raging storm inside of him.

Mentally preparing for the worst he reached for the door handle, his entire arm shaking. He was fully aware that she wouldn’t even realize he was there, that she’d be lying catatonic in a hospital bed with tubes and wires hooked up to her. He didn’t care. It was still an important moment in his life. He was about to meet his soulmate for the first time.

Turning the handle, he felt his heart stop when he saw her. Even though the actual sight of her broke his heart, something he couldn’t explain started to stir inside of him. Like—like his entire existence led him to this point. And while that thought alone would’ve terrified him not too long ago, it now gave him a purpose to strive towards. He wouldn’t run from this.

He approached her carefully, pulling up a chair and sitting beside her. As he sat there, he watched as the little scars across his knuckles started to disappear, and saw them reappear on her. Unconsciously, he started to check on every single scar on his body, finding himself frowning as they vanished from his skin. He would’ve preferred to bare them, knowing that they wouldn’t mar her beautiful body. And he’d miss the proof that she was meant to be with him. Fate determined that they were meant to be together, and for the first time—he accepted that. Because he finally learned that alone was a far more terrifying word than forever.

“I don’t care how long it takes.” He whispered, taking her hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[fan-written]

Maribat Tropes

Marinette frowned and counted the number of students on the bus again. They were one short. There’s Mylene and Ivan. Nino and Alya are by Adrien and Lil- oh. No Lila. No wonder the bus was so quiet. There were no tall tales being spun or fake tears being dried.

“Madam Bustier,” Marinette leaned toward the seat in front of her, “Lila isn’t on the bus.”

M. Bustier stood and turned around, eyes wide as she did a quick seat check. The class had changed over the last few years, a few moved to other classes while some were added to theirs. And through it all Marinette was the unwilling class president to a bully enabling teacher.

At least she had gained a few allies. Allen Montgomery joined her class two years earlier and brought with him his friends, Claude, Allegra, and most surprisingly Felix. The last three weren’t in their class this year, but Marinette appreciated their friendship more than they would ever know.

“You’re right.” Bustier nodded but sat back down, completely unworried. “Well, she’s eighteen and did sign the waiver. If she wanted to join the tour she would have been on the bus.”

And that’s what Marinette was worried about. None of the class would want to miss out on a tour of Wayne Enterprises so of course it would be her fault the precious angel Lila did.

-

It was too easy. That was all one Lila Rossi could think as she watched her class charter bus turn the corner. One distracting video, a quick excuse to the bathroom, then patiently waiting until the bus left at the scheduled time and she could claim they had left her behind. Or that Marinette forced the bus to leave without her.

Which would be even easier to convince the class of. Four months was all it took to pull the klutz’s friends away, another two to turn them against her. Four and half years later they could barely look at her without disgust. All of them, except that stupid Quantic Kid, would believe her and she’d barely have to mention her name.

But now she had to rush if she was going to reach WE before the tour started. And what a gold mine of stories that would be. As long as she was quiet about it there would be a good chance she could play off the forbidden romance between her and one of the heirs.

She just needed- There, add just a few tears and that cab would be hers.

“Excusez-moi,” Lila said, eyes wide and watery, "I-I think my class just left me behind." The dark haired man frowned with worry and she knew she lucked out finding a kind soul in Gotham. "You, you wouldn't happen to know the way to Wayne Enterprises would you?" A fake sniffle and an eye rub helped keep her cover with the added bonus of helping rouge her cheeks.

The man’s brows creased, but he nodded. “I do. I’m actually heading there right now if you’d like to join me in my cab.”

Lila faked a gasp and leaned forward with her hands clasped. “Really? I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” She would. She would rather have that cab to herself, but maybe it would be safer to have a man with her.

He nodded and stepped out of the doorway to let her in. “It’s fine, really. In fact I think I’m the one leading the tour.” He gave her a kind grin and she quickly slid in before he could change his mind. Her tears were gone and a small smile was on her lips.

Oh! This was just too good to be true. Poison the tour guide before he even met miss goody-two-shoes. “Wow! I must have really good luck. Oh, pardonne-moi, I’m Lila. Lila Rossi.” She held a hand out once he was sitting and the car started to drive.

“Dick Grayson.” He shook her hand once and settled into his seat. “If you don’t mind me asking, Ms. Rossi, why would your class leave you behind? Surely they know how dangerous that is in Gotham?”

“I-I’m not really sure Mr. Grayson.” She looked down and to the side. This was going even better than planned. “I mean it could have… No, she wouldn’t have been that cruel.” Lila whispered the last part as if she was in shock.

“Who?”

She jerked her head up like she was surprised he heard her. “No one! I mean, I just don’t want you to have a bad impression of my class. It’s just…” She always felt the best time to hesitate was before revealing a secret. “It’s just there’s one girl in my class. She’s been bullying me for the last few years. I’m just a little worried that she, that she may have convinced the teacher to leave without me.”

Lila inserted a little whine into her voice and curled her arms around herself. It was a move she’d seen Marinette do whenever she had the urge to threaten her. Lila always thought it made the girl look weak and pathetic which is exactly why she used it here.

“How would she have been able to do that?” Mr. Grayson asked. His voice was void of emotion, but Lila could see him clenching his hand into a fist from the corner of her eye. 

“She probably told her I was still jetlagged, or that I caught food poisoning. Mari, I mean, she makes up stories all the time and our teacher believes her because she’s the class president.” Lila shrugged as if it was a common occurrence. And it was! Just not the way she was telling it. Madame Bustier believed everything she said because it was easier than admitting she was wrong.

Mr. Grayson frowned. “Would you mind telling me who she is so I can keep an eye on her during the tour. I would hate for this to cause even more problems.”

Lila crowed with victory inside while she tried to force her face into something resembling fearful. Honestly she was a little worried about her skills becoming rusty. She’d been ruling over her kingdom for so long that she didn’t get near enough practice.

“It’s Marinette, sir. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Next

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 2 – It’s All Fun and Games Until Someone Ends Up Pregnant

Note: PG version of smut basically this entire chapter, pretty much just kissing.  If you don’t like smut you can skip this chapter.

Chapter 1

“You’re falling behind,” she smirked at him, twisting again to finish an elaborate move.  She could feel the alcohol surge through her hazing her mind and dulling her inhibitions, in particular the one dictating she remember how uncoordinated she is so she doesn’t try any daring moves outside of her suit and the one that dictates she not attract any attention to herself by showing off her questionably obtained moves.  Moves like the ones she was currently putting on full display.  

But it wasn’t her fault really.  Dick had challenged her to a dance off.  He challenged her.  Then he turned out to be stupidly skilled.  She had to pull out the big guns. She wasn’t about to lose to some stupidly handsome, stupidly sweet, stupidly talented… what was she saying? “I think you must’ve missed my last few moves.  At best for you, we’re tied,” Dick called to her with his own smirk, grazing his fingers across the small of her back.  Oh yeah, that’s right.  She wasn’t going to lose.

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully before bursting into full belly laughs.  He picked her up and spun her around, matching her laughter. This felt good.  This felt right.  This was a cosmic reward for everything it had thrust on her since she was fourteen and she never wanted it to stop.  She could feel a blissful sensation radiating out from where Dick’s strong hands were gripping her hips, pulling her closer to him.  

She raised her arms crossing them behind her head as she moved to the beat and turned to shoot Dick a teasing look.  The bright blue of her shirt brought out her eyes and made them shine even brighter. She looked up at him with a brilliant smile and eyes shining bright.  Dick froze to take in the sight, unable in his liquor induced haze to really process how he was feeling.  

It made Dick feel like electricity was surging through him.  Those eyes seemed to have to power to heal wounds he didn’t even know he had. He wanted to see that look every day. He wanted to be the reason for that look.  He suddenly stopped dancing and cupped her face, an intense look in his eyes.  He leaned down and captured her lips in a passionate, hungry kiss.  Marinette froze for a moment in shock from his sudden seriousness before pulling him closer by his shirt and returning the kiss with every bit the same amount of passion.

He pulled away still looking in her eyes and holding her close.  They swayed together in the middle of the crowd, bodies glued together. Clear, bright blue meeting intense, adoring blue.  Lost in their own world just for them.  They were knocked out of their stupor, quite literally, by the dancers around them bumping into them.  They broke eye contact and looked around sheepishly just now remembering the crowd around them.  She looked back at him with a wide smile and started dancing to the music again, keeping him close, trying to keep physical contact with him in some way the entire time, which he reciprocated, refusing not to have his hands touching her body somewhere.

She gave him a coquettish smirk and spun away from him, still holding his hand as she spun. Unfortunately, at the same time a dancer next to her stepped back for a dance move of their own.  Her foot tangled with his and they both fell. Dick caught her easily, his previously flirty eyes now filled with concern.  He pulled her close to him, cradling her to his body.  “Are you okay?”

She nodded, an embarrassed flush appearing on her cheeks.  She looked over to the other dancer.  “Hey, you okay?”  

“Eh.  It happens,” he smiled and went right back to dancing.

She giggled and turned to Dick with a shrug.  Dick looked unconvinced.  “Maybe we can sit for a minute.  Get you some water and talk?” he offered instead, his eyes conveying the worry he felt. He carried her to a table along the dancefloor to make sure she was okay.

His concern filled Marinette with an overwhelming feeling of warmth.  He wasn’t just chasing a physical high, he was worried about her.  She looked in his eyes and gave him an adoring smile.  She cupped his face and pulled him closer to place a slow, sweet kiss on his lips.  He watched her with a dazed look as she pulled away.  “I’m fine,” she assured him.  “Honestly, I’m a bit of a klutz to begin with and I’m drunk.  I’m surprised worse hasn’t happened.  This was barely anything.  Accidents happen.  I’m okay.” She gave him a smirk.  “Come on, I want to get back to winning.”

He watched her for a few extra seconds to make sure she meant it then nodded with a smirk. “I don’t think I lose either way.”

She stood up, her chest brushing against his as she stood.  “Me either,” she whispered in his ear before leading him out to the dancefloor.

He spun her around and wrapped his arms around her as they swayed to the music, pulling her tight against his body; her back pushing against his chest, her hips rubbing against his hips as they swayed to the beat.  He groaned involuntarily at the sensation.  She felt so right in his arms.  She made his whole body vibrate in anticipation.  She reached up behind her to run her hands up his neck and into his hair, scraping her nails along his scalp and pulling slightly on his hair.

He groaned and clenched his hands around her hips.  She bit her lower lip and turned her head to watch him through her lashes.  Her heart was pounding in her chest and her mind was racing, but no matter how much it raced, it always returned to the exhilaration she felt when his hands or his arms or his mouth touched her.  She wanted to get lost in the sensation, the pleasant, soothing, tantalizing sensation that washed over her body emanating from wherever any part of Dick’s body was touching her.

The way she was looking at him stole his breath and his mind empty.  He needed to be closer.  He needed her against him.  He needed to keep her looking at him like that.  He ran his fingers along her jaw and down her neck.  He buried his head in her neck, placing hot, wet kisses up her neck until his lips were brushing the shell of her ear.  “Want to get out of here?  Somewhere we can actually… talk?”  

He felt her shudder at the sensation of his breath against her ear.  She turned around to wind her arms around his neck again.  She pulled him down, pressing a heated, hungry kiss to his lips.  He pressed his lips harder against hers, pressing out any air between their bodies. She pulled away after a few minutes and pressed her forehead to his chest as she gasped for breath.  Dick ran his hands up and down her sides, feeling every curve and plane and firm muscle.  “Is that a yes?” he whispered into her hair.

She nodded into his chest and looked back up at him with sultry eyes.  “I have to tell my friend where I’m going and make sure he has a plan to get home.”

He grinned, running his fingers across the small of her back.  “I’ll meet you at the front door?”  She nodded, not trusting her voice, and pulled him down for another searing kiss.  She walked away with an tantalizing smile over her shoulder.  He watched her until he couldn’t make her out in the crowd anymore and went to wait for her at the front door.  

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long for her to meet him.  She worked her way to him, the same alluring smile still on her lips, after only a few minutes.  He returned her smile with an inviting one of his own.  When she reached him, he brushed her hair out of her face and wrapped an arm around her waist, giving her a squeeze before resting his hand on her hip and making their way out of the club.

Jason stared incredulously as Dick walked out of the club trailing close behind a beautiful woman.  He snorted and turned to Roy, raising his voice to imitate Dick’s, “This isn’t about getting laid.  It’s about hanging out together and having fun.  Boy’s night.”

Roy rested his elbow on Jason’s shoulder and shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe he’s going to get laid… and in that shirt.”

Tim came up between them, knocking Roy’s elbow down and patting both of them on the shoulder.  “And before either of you.”  Roy’s face went slack with realization and Jason cursed.

A cab ride later during which time they were mostly well behaved with only a modicum of wandering hands, Marinette and Dick were cuddled up on Dick’s couch popping M&M’s into their mouths, the only food he had in his apartment, between sips of their drinks.  Marinette giggled and focused her attention on tossing an M&M up in the air in Dick’s direction.  She cheered loudly as he caught it in his mouth with a grin.  “Good toss,” he commended her, squeezing her closer and pressing his nose against the side of her face.

“Thanks.” She cuddled closer with a proud smile.  “I have really good hand coordination… no wait… hand eye coordination! Clearly not that drunk despite how I sound.  I’m blaming that on English.  I’d be fine in English… French!” She pulled away slightly to give him an adoring look, running her hands back and forth over his stomach.  “Good catching.”  

He chuckled and took another drink.  “Thank you.”

She sighed and leaned her head against the back of the couch as he ran his fingers over her hip.  She looked around the apartment, hazy eyes flitting from thing to thing without really registering any of them.  Her eyes finally settled on a shirt that was thrown on the couch right behind Dick. She reached awkwardly over him, falling into him accidentally as she grabbed the shirt.  She giggled when he pulled her onto his lap with a laugh.  She held out the shirt to see what it was.  She gave the shirt a double take.  She recognized the design.  She had created the design.  He owned a shirt with her design on it.  She started giggling uncontrollably.  

He gave her a confused look.  “What?”

She held it up for him to see.  “Yours?”

“Yeah, I was wearing that before we left.  What?  Not a fan?” he asked with a pout, uncertainty in his voice.

“No, no.  I love his music,” she assured him with that same secretive smile and booping him on the nose.  “I take it you’re a fan of Jagged as well?”

“I am, in fact.” He gave an exaggerated nod.  “I have all his albums.  Every one.” He made an exaggerated sweeping motion toward his CD’s. “I love him and the artwork, especially this one.” He held the shirt up and shook it as though she might be uncertain of which design he was talking about.  “It’s so creative and cool looking.  You don’t even have to be a fan of Jagged to like it.  I don’t know.  I just really like his artist,” he rambled not noticing a dark blush settling on her cheeks.  

She surged up and captured his lips in a fervent kiss.  He let out a surprised huff, but quickly melted into her lips, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her closer.  After a few minutes he pulled away reluctantly, panting for breath. “What was that for?” he asked breathlessly.  He cupped her cheek and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Nothing.” She gave him an effervescent smile and pulled away slightly to wave her hands in an uncoordinated motion trying to dismiss his interest.  She held up the shirt again with a nostalgic smile.  “This is one of my favorite designs too.  And, I’ve been a huge fan of his since I was a kid.”  

“Right, he started in France didn’t he?”  His voice was excited again.  She nodded. He grinned at her and settled further into the couch, wrapping his arms around her waist and giving her a squeeze. “I like this.  Tell me more about yourself.  I want to know more.”

She smiled broadly at how excited he sounded.  “I like this too.  We’ll take turns.  I want to hear more about you.  Not just me. Don’t be selfish.”  She gave him a mock stern look, pointing a finger in his face.

His smile beamed at her comment and gave her a curt, serious nod.  “I would never.  Okay.  You first.” He took the shirt out of her hands and threw it over his shoulder.

She giggled at him, her eyes following the arc of the shirt as she thought about what she wanted to say.  She took another gulp of her drink.  “Let’s see. From France.” He nodded in confirmation and encouraged her to continue.  “Paris, that’s in France.  Went to university in New York, that’s in America.  Really like whatever this is.” She held up her glass before finishing the rest of it.  “Signed a deal with a company in Gotham and decided to move here and open a store. I’m a clothing designer.”

He nodded along as she talked, attempting to catalog each piece of information for later despite the information already melding together into nonsensical data points in his head.  He looked down at her clothes.  “You look amazing.  Did you do it yourself?”

She gave him a radiant smile and wiggled in his lap in excitement at the compliment.  “Thank you.  I did.  It's Nightwing themed.”

Dick choked on the drink he had just taken. He gave her a faux innocent smile. “Fan of his?”

Marinette watched him with concerned eyes for a few seconds to make sure he was okay before she answered.  “Yeah.  I think he’s a good… I mean…” she took a second to collect herself and look serious as she spoke as though this were an important conversation.  “He has a really imprint… a really impressive leadership style.  Strong… and dynamic… and compassionate.” She counted off the attributes on her fingers to accentuate her point.  “The way he connects with victims… I mean they all have their own way of connecting with people,” she quickly added not wanting to insult them as though they could just know she was talking about them, like their bat senses might be tingling.  She looked down and furrowed her brow.  “I guess his way just resonates with me more?” She looked up at Dick to see if he was following.  He was watching her with something close to awe so she took that as a sign to continue.

“And his fighting technique!  The things he can do?  I’ve only ever seen one other person able to move like that and she had magic to help.” She made some wild, vague motions in the air to indicate flips. “But he’s just… like that. Completely human… at least so they say… I don’t know.  Do you?” She looked to him with an inquisitive stare.  She continued on without letting him answer, “and can do that.  I mean… wow.”  She continued talking completely oblivious to the way Dick’s cheeks were flushing and his eyes darkening.  “Not to mention sexy.  I mean damn…” she suddenly realized she was gushing about someone else while cuddled up in Dick’s lap.  She looked at the now empty glass accusatorily.  “Maybe I am that drunk.  I really should stop talk…”

Dick obliged her wish, stopping her with a kiss before she could finish her sentence.  He cupped her face and pulled her closer, pressing into her with a bruising volley of kisses.  Her kisses tasted like the liquor and chocolate they had been consuming in an enticing combination of flavor that was just her.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her, hungrily returning his kisses. He reached up into her hair and pulled out the band holding it up, releasing her hair and allowing his hands to wind into her hair. He gently pulled, prompting her to lean her head back giving him better access to her neck. He trailed wet kisses down her neck.

The moan she let out sent shivers down his spine. He had caused her to make that noise. The sound was like a spell forcing his full attention on her.  His mind became consumed with trying to figure out how to get her to make it again and what other sounds she could make.  She shifted so she was straddling his hips and rolled her hips slightly.  He groaned in response and playfully nipped at her collar bone before ghosting his nose back up her neck as he trailed his nails up and down her back and along her hips. The feeling of his rough, calloused fingers against her skin caused goosebumps to rise across her skin wherever he had touched her showing a history of his contact.

She whimpered into his hair and worked her hands down his chest splaying out her fingers as she moved them against his body.  She found his shirt’s hem and reached under it to feel his skin against hers.  He gasped at the sensation and reached to pull his shirt off to grant her more access. She hummed in appreciation and ran her fingers along his muscles in his chest before pressing into him to deepen the kiss.

He reached under her shirt running his finger under the band on her bra, causing her to whimper into his mouth.  He started pulling off her shirt but paused, pulling away from her just enough to whisper against her lips.  “Wait.  Do you want to do this?”

Marinette nodded, still staring at his lips before diving in to feel his lips on hers again.

He moaned into the kiss, getting lost in the sensation of her, her lips, her tongue, her taste, her skin, the weight on his hips and chest.  He fought to pull himself out of his haze, but distancing away from her slightly. “Marinette.”  He hooked his finger under her chin to get her to look at him. Once she had focused on his eyes he asked again.  “I want to make sure.  Do you want to keep going?  If you don’t we can just keep doing this or we can stop.”

Marinette’s eyes turned soft.  She traced his jaw slowly and bit her lower lip.  “Do you have protection?”

He nodded, “I do,” he assured her.

She smiled and pressed closer to him.  “Then yes.  I want to keep going.  Do you?”

“Definitely, yes,” he whispered huskily, pulling her shirt off and tossing it across the room.

Chapter 3

Tags:

@dickinette-february

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 15

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Time for Batman to regret all his life decisions!

First< Previous > Next

------

“Are you sure you're ready for patrol,” Marinette presses, Marion tries not to roll his eyes once again.

“Yes Nette my ribs are perfectly fine, I can manage,” Marion pulls up his mask, hiding away in an alley not far from the hospital, “besides I need to let off some steam from yesterday,”

“Punching people is no way to deal with your emotions,” Marinette scolds, hiding the Kwamis away in her small bag.

“Of course not,” Marion makes sure the miracle box is in place before swinging his satchel over his back, “Kicking can do far more damage,”

“You don’t deserve an answer for that one,” Marinette sighs, handing over his glasses, “Just make a portal already,”

“Absolutely not,” Kaalki flies out of her bag, “I refuse to be a taxi you can easily get there on your own,”

“Kaalki, the meeting point is halfway across the city,” Marion pleads, the Kwami only turns her nose up at him, “What are we meant to do? Take an actual taxi?”

“I can't believe we’re taking a taxi to meet the Batman for patrol,” Marinette mutters, as Marion tries to hail a cab.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Marion scoffs, another cab surprisingly passing up the opportunity to drive two masked figures late at night, “We’re taking a taxi to a block away from the meeting point, only amateurs give away their position like that,”

“Really not my point,” Marinette adjusts her bag strap.

“Maybe we can ask Batman if we can keep the grappling hooks?” Marion suggests, a cab pulling up to the curve.

“We’d still have to go a long way, it’s not like our suits where we get increased stamina,” Marinette opens the door, sliding into the car before it can’t leave without them, telling the driver the destination.

“Oh the days where we could get across the city in five minutes,” Marion sighs dreamily, ignoring the balding drivers' sideways glance as he pulls away.

“You mean yesterday?” Marinette teases, sitting behind the driver.

“Really? Feels like a week,” Marion leans back in the seat, cringing at the smell of cigarette smoke.

“You two heroes, rogues or villains?” The driver interrupts, sizing them up in the mirror.

“Is there a price difference?” Marion questions, quirk to his lips.

“Sure is,” The driver grunts, eyes still uncertain if there were any ill intentions.

“Do I have to guess which one?” Marion gets elbowed by Marinette.

“Stop that,” She digs her elbow in further, “We’re vigilantes passing through town, running with Batman for the time being,”

“So he’s gone and picked up new kids?” The driver snorts, finally taking his eyes off them.

“We’re not his kids,” Marinette assures, nope no more surprise parents for them thank you.

“Not more Robins? you’ve got the colors,” The driver says gruffly, sharp corner sending them both off balance.

“Unfortunately only Sparrow here wears tights,” Marion gestures to Marinette, “I just don’t fit the bill,”

“Sparrow?” The driver repeats cynically, he should have heard the ones Batman shot down.

“Yeah she has a codename, but I still can’t decide mine, any ideas,” Marion leans over the passenger seat in front of him.

“You’re asking me?” He snorts, Marinette just shakes her head.

“Always looking for public opinion,” Marion shrugs, only getting a sideways glance his way.

“Bat boy,” The driver decides, Marion stifles a laugh.

“Wow, that's terrible,” Marion doesn’t catch himself in time to stop, but adds, “No offence,”

“You’re going to have to look elsewhere for creativity, boy,” The driver shrugs, not seeming bothered by his bluntness.

“What do you think of Shelley?” Marion does get a look his way this time, grinning at it.

“Shelley?”

“Yeah as in the Shelley Starling, small, blue and orange, from Africa,” Apparently Marion's extra details do nothing to convince him.

“You want to be called Shelley?”

“Yeah can’t you just picture it, ‘Batman and Shelley save the day’,” Marion gestures to an imaginary headline.

“And you thought Bat Boy was bad,” The driver shakes his head, trying to hide his amusement, “Do whatever you want kid,”

“Can I tell Batman I got your approval?” Marion grins, leaning further into the drivers space.

“Don’t bring me into this,” His gruff tone doesn’t hide his smile as he slows to a stop, “Now get out,”

“Thank you very much sir, sorry about him,”  Marinette pushes Marion out of the car, handing over what they owed him

“Just call me Norris, see ya round, Sparrow... Shelley,” Marion beams at him, Norris shaking his head but smiling none the less.

“Bye!” Marion waves as the car drives away, “I like him, what are the chances we see him again?”

“Zero,” Marinette predicts, walking towards the meeting point.

“Where have you two been?” Batman demands more than asks the second they land on the rooftop.

“Hospital,”

“Family business,”

“....”

“Well, we’re clearly not telepathic,” Marion bumps their shoulders, moving to stand next to Batman.

“Sorry, about missing patrol, it's been… hectic the last few days,” Marinette explains, both hoping they won't pry further.

“Right... Sparrow you’re with me on a stake out,” Batman declares, turning to Marion, “You’re with Nightwing and Robin,”

“You got it,” Marion does a mocking salute, turning on his heels towards them.

As he reacquaints himself with the grappling hook, he gets the run down from Nightwing on where their patrol will go. Marion suspected it wasn't their regular patrol route as they start swinging across the city. He says hi to Oracle and Spoiler on the comms. Disappointed that Red Hood wasn't there tonight, but on the plus side he was less likely to get stabbed… or crash through another window.... or fall off a building.... or-

“There's a mugging three blocks to the east,” Oracle informs, the three of them immediately changing their route.

“We still need to decide on your codename,” Nightwing pipes up, once they start a steady pace towards the mugging.

“Not again,” Robin mutters, Marion grins catching himself in free fall.

“I have a few ideas,” And then because he can’t help himself, “Robin what do you think?”

“Tt, you should take this more seriously, so as not to seem like a complete fool,” Robin scoffs, landing perfectly on the edge of a building, a mugger holding another man at gun point just below.

“Hm, it's a bit long for a codename,” Marion drops down into the alley with them, landing on a garbage skip without a sound, “How about just Fool?”

The mugger turns around, startling at Marion and Robin blocking his exit, Robin scowls, hand twitching towards his katana. Either because of the mugger raising his gun or Marion is undecided.

“Maybe not,” Nightwing stands between the Mugger and the victim. Concerned look apparently deciding Robin’s scowl was aimed at him after all. “What were you thinking?”

If he was trying to redirect the conversation away from murder, boy did he choose a bad way to do it.

“Pterodactyl,” Marion grins as the mugger can’t decide who to point his gun at.

“Why!” Robin spins to him, catching Marion's full attention.

“I don’t know,” Marion shrugs, unconcerned with the mugger pointing at him edging forward, “Their closest living relatives are birds, right?”

“That doesn't mean-” Robin lunges forward as the mugger tries to escape.

“-You act like an immature child,” Robin insults, moving to disarm the gun, “Completely lacking professionalism, you actually sang while apprehending criminals,”

“I see it as more a testament to my skill that I can multitask,” Marion dismisses, coming up behind the mugger as Robin distracts him.

“You were almost stabbed several times,” The whites of the domino mask narrow, removing the gun from the mugger's grip.

“And yet I won without a scratch,” Marion sends back a smirk, grabbing the hand that goes to punch Robin taking the mugger off guard, Robin kicks him to the ground.

“If you like singing, how about Songbird?” Nightwing attempts to interrupt Robin’s likely plans to change his ‘without a scratch’ claim.

“I don’t know, there's a taxi driver I met who’s really attached to Shelley,” Marion tries not to give away his excitement at how perfect the name is.

“I’m sure he’ll survive,” Robin deadpans, zip tying the muggers hands as he struggles.

“Hm… sure sounds good,” Marion shrugs, almost bouncing with excitement, This is gonna be fun .

“Then I guess congratulations are in order, Songbird,” Nightwing slings an arm around him, ruffling his hair.

“You hear that?” Marion looks down at the mugger, “Now you get to tell the Police who took you down,”

“Robin?” The man asks, smug smirk on Robin's face.

Songbird steps out of Nightwing's hold. Picks up the mugger easily, as he shouts and struggles in his grasp. It takes slightly more effort to throw him into the open garbage skip next to them, letting the mugger land on the piles of trash.

“Tt, are you a complete child?” Robin scoffs, having to look up at him.

“Really? What are you like nine?” Songbird smirks at his irritation, ignoring the crook yelling.

“ No I am not ,” Robin hisses.

“Sorry, eight,” Songbird’s instincts tell him to take a few steps back, he doesn't listen.

“That wasn’t very professional,” Nightwing’s disapproval showing through his expression, Marion can’t quite shake off the feeling of a disappointed big brother.

“Hm? What? Oh!” He looks towards the mugger that's still shouting at him, whatever, professionalism was for Ladybug, “Oh no I dropped them! I was carrying them with the utmost care then I went and accidentally dropped them!”

Songbird smacks his forehead, schooling the grin off his face. In much the same way Nightwing is clearly trying to.

“I’m such a klutz- let me try and get them out,” Marion slams the lid shut with an echoing bang, “Oh no! My bad, how can I be so uncoordinated? Whatever will I do now!”

“You are strange,” Robin informs, sending out his grappling hook.

“Thank you, it’s a goal of mine,” Songbird bows, sirens can be heard in the distance now.

He double checks the victim that Nightwing has been covering. Smiling brightly at their slight smile. With a little wave he swings out the alley, following Nightwing and Robin.

After continuing on route for a while longer, stopping minor crimes they stop for a mid patrol snack.

“Number one rule don't stand on a ledge,  I have poor impulse control and I will push you,” Marion warns before they sit down on the rooftop.

“What are you a cat?” Robin scowls, in the danger zone.

“Absolutely,” Marion’s grin is feral, Robin’s scowl deepens as he comes to join them.

“What is that?” Marion gasps in horror at the boring grey brick Robin unwraps.

“An energy bar, it’s more effective than your trash,” Robin scoffs, tucking the wrapper away.

“What do ya mean,” Nightwing and Songbird mumble out through mouthfuls of baked goods.

Robin presumably rolls his eyes under the mask. Leaning in to take a bite of the energy bar. Marion slaps it out his hand.

“Hey!” Robin shouts, as it drops to the ground.

“It touched Gotham, it’s contaminated now,” Marion shrugs, giving Robin pause before he picks it back up.

“I am resistant to a few germs,” Robin says condescendingly, picking the bar back up.

“In Gotham ?” Marion stresses, making him pause again, looking consideringly at the before throwing it away.

He brings out another identical one. Marion doesn't even let him unwrap it before he makes a grab for it. Robin’s expecting it this time and jerks it out of his reach. However years with the miraculous has enhanced his reflexes, Marion’s other hand snatching it. With a little enhanced strength Marion throws it over the edge of the building into the street.

“So what I can’t eat?” Robin bites, hand moving towards his katana.

“Of course you can,” Marion holds out a macaron, “Here,”

“Absolutely not,” Robin glares, Nightwing leaning back to watch the exchange.

“It’s good,” Marion goads, shifting closer.

“I’ve had enough of Nightwing's overly sweet patrol snacks to know that is not true,” Robin scoffs, even as Marion moves close enough that he must be able to smell the treat.

“Yes but this is mine and I know for a fact it’s good enough for the gods,” Except for one particularly picky god who once made him attempt camembert macarons. Needless to say, no one else liked them.

“You overestimate yourself,” Robin scoffs, turning away from Marion, he’d bet to try and avoid the tantalising smell.

“Prove me wrong,” Marion challenges, and can tell from the shift in body language he had him.

With one last glare, Robin snatches the macaron. Regarding it skeptically.

“How do I know it’s not poisoned,”

“Oh for the love of-” Marion takes it back, breaking it in half rather than biting.

He hands one half back and eats the other. Robin doesn't take a bite before he stops chewing. Marion opens his mouth to show the mushed up food for good measure.

“Tt, disgusting,” Robin sneers, turning away to eat the last half, “... this is not,”

“Not what?” Marion teases, despite having a soft smile at Robin's expression, before it turns to a scowl.

“It is better than the trash Nightwing eats,” Robin concedes, too late, he had already given himself away.

“Hey!” Nightwing exclaims, but Marion moves quick as a cat to stuff a macaron in his left open mouth. He startles, before chewing, “... alright… never mind…. Wow,”

Marion hands Nightwing another before he has to ask, getting a downright envious look from Robin. With a smile Marion breaks another macaron in half, handing the bigger half to Robin. He takes it, biting it in half again, clearly trying to control his features to seem indifferent, and failing.

“It’s so good to see you actually enjoying something,” Nightwing pulls Robin into a hug, the latter scowling but not moving away. Marion grin widens, getting Robbin to narrow his eyes.

“What?” He demands, completely failing at being threatening while getting cuddled.

“Nothing,” Marion’s smile suggests otherwise, “Are you two brothers?”

The both startle at the question, shifting slightly away from each other. As if they were about to give away their identities.

“... yes,” Robin admits, faint blush would probably go unnoticed by someone without pseudo-night vision.

“Awe! Little D!” Nightwing brings him back into a much tighter hug, that Robin does try to get out of.

“Lets’ go,” Robin stands, blush probably visible even without night vision.

Marion grins, apparently teasing enough that Robin feels the need to defend himself. They argue and tease as they swing off into the night to resume patrol.

Marinette shifts, joints popping after being crouched for so long. Stake outs weren’t her typical affair as Ladybug but it seemed Sparrow will need to get used to them. She and Batman don’t talk, both focusing on the building below watching for activity. The silence makes the chatter on the comms all the more louder.

“We still need to decide on your codename,”

Marinette tries to hold back a laugh when Batman reaches up to turn off his comm faster than even she ever could as Ladybug. She follows suit, not wanting to burst out laughing when they were meant to be hidden. Marinette tries to stay focused on the warehouse in front of them but the architecture of nearby buildings has her itching to grab her sketchbook.

“Why did you ask me to join the stake out?” She asks Batman, before she gives into the urge to vent her designs.

“Do you honestly think he would sit still,” The avoidance of any codename doesn't go unnoticed by her.

“No he wouldn't,” She smiles, mischief dancing in her eyes, “You just didn’t want to put up with codename again did you?”

She only gets a grunt in response, making her smile widen. Before long she's bored again. That short exchange can only sustain her for so long, sitting still on a cold Gotham rooftop. This wasn’t what she wanted to do tonight, it was meant to be a way to release energy not gather it sitting still all day and night.  Marion was out in the city forgetting about his problems, letting them fall as he leapt from building to building. She was meant to be doing the same. In free fall, focusing on the next building to catch her rather than how to adjust to her new chaotic family.

“Who trained you?” Batman questions, halting Marinette's fidgeting, “Robin wouldn’t stop talking about it after your last patrol,”

That was strange. At the time he had seemed mad she took down all the gang members before he got the chance. Maybe that was just his default state.

“I was trained by master- my master I was trained by my master,” Marinette breaks herself out of her thoughts, stumbling over words.

“Was?” Batman prods, Now looking towards her, and thankfully ignoring her stuttering.

“Yeah, he… left about four years ago,” Marinette considers her words. It’s not that she didn’t trust Batman, but secret identities were so for a reason and any detail could reveal them to the worlds greatest detective.

“When did he start teaching you?” At least it didn’t seem like he was directly trying to figure out her identity, and it was nice to have a distraction. Even if it was just more talking, at least it was talking about something else.

“He never really taught us, per say, our city needed us so we stepped up,” After some hesitation on her part, but Marion had dragged her along anyway, not letting her give up for even a second, “He guided us from afar for a while until we needed to meet him,”

“You were protecting a whole city alone?” Batman's concern is not easily ignored.

“Not alone, we have each other,” Marinette corrects, plus sometimes other miraculous holders, but that would be giving away a bit too much, “We’re still protecting it, that's why we missed patrol, it’s not like we could have just quit, our home needs protection,”

It was partly true, they did leave to protect paris last time.

“.... It seems I’ve underestimated you,” Batman admits, glaring at the skyline “Clearly you are more…. Responsible than I assumed,”

You don’t know the half of it , Marinette thinks, smiling to herself. The silence they fall back into is a peaceful one. Marinette tries to ignore her thoughts, clearing her head to focus on the task at hand. She is just starting to master her thoughts when trucks pulls up, several people jumping out, working together to carry crates stacked in the trucks.

“I’ll call in the others,” Batman whispers, as more people come out to meet them, about thirty people so far with possibly more inside.

Marinette clicks her comm back on to hear the echo of Batman’s voice telling Marion's group to head their way. Within ten minutes Marion, Nightwing and Robin have joined them on the roof, studying the last of the crates being carried inside.

“We'll go in ahead, Sparrow you and your partner wait for my signal and be prepared as backup,” Batman instructs, preparing to jump across the street.

“Songbird,” Marion interrupts, Batman’s gaze snapping to him, “Decided on a codename,”

“That's… acceptable,” Batman concedes, Marion's grin growing manic.

Without another word the three bats swing across the street, crashing through the warehouse windows. She turns off the communicator so they can’t hear them but they can still hear Batman.

“I’m surprise you went with something- at least for you- normal,” Marinette doesn't take her eyes off the flashes of gunfire and shouting coming from inside, “I mean I know singing is your thing and everything, but still,”

“Dear Sister you underestimate me,” Marinette doesn't need to look at him to know what kind of face he’s making, “For you see I have a master plan, so grand it will make my name known to all,”

“And make Batman regret inviting us?” Marinette guesses, eyebrow raised.

“And make Batman regret inviting us,” Marion parrots, smile evident in his tone, “Do you have a speaker?”

Batman knocks the gun out of the nearest criminals hand. An uppercut sending them to the floor for a while. He’s right in the thick of the crowd, back to back with Nightwing, while Robin picks off those on the outer edges.

“I’m going to bring them in,” Batman alerts Nightwing, His communicator off so they don’t come in early.

“Are you sure they can handle this?” Nightwing hits his attacker over the head, disorientating them, “Red Robin will be here soon, there's no need to put rookie’s at risk,”

“They are very capable,” Batman defends in both senses, blocking the oncoming punch.

If Sparrow was telling the truth, which he was sure she was, they had single handedly been protecting an entire city for years. Even if it wasn’t as crime ridden as Gotham it was clear from what little they have said that there is something more going on, perhaps a few villains. What is worse is how young they are. Not even Robin, who has been training all his life, was allowed to patrol by himself. From the sounds of it they could have very well been protecting an entire city single handedly at his age. They could certainly handle a thirty something gang members.

“Sparrow, Songbird, now,” Batman flicks on his communicator, getting confirmation.

Not a hint of fear at the prospect of barging into a heavily armed base. They certainly didn’t seem cocky, confident yes, but they have the skill to back it up. Despite everything, they knew how to take the job seriously and are responsible enough to treat it with care and respect.

The sound of glass shattering is almost drowned out by the sudden blast of music. Eerily familiar tune to a pirate movie Dick had once insisted they all watch together.

“Captain Jack Sparrow is here!” Sparrow hits the ground, landing a punch on the way down.

“Yo-ho Yo-ho A pirate's life for me!” Songbird… sings… of course. As he swings into the room disappearing into a cluster of criminals, not that anyone could mistake where he was as he keeps singing at the top of his lungs. "We pillage we plunder we rifle and loot!"

Batman pauses to watch like many other criminals. "Drink up me 'earties, yo ho!"

Allies are standing, as confused as enemies at the strange scene. "We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot!"

Gunfire is drawn to Songbird, grinning ear to ear. "Drink up me 'earties, yo ho!"

Batman catches Sparrow's eye, getting a cheeky grin and saluting in response.

“Um…” Nightwing trails off, taking down a thug that had the wherewithal to attack them as most criminals head towards the new… disruption.

“No Nightwing, not now,” Batman grits out, Nightwing backs off to go help Songbird who was getting surrounded. And. Still. Singing.

Batman just stands in the middle of the remaining crowd surrounding him. Absentmindedly taking down anyone who attacks him. Gaze practically locked on the two.

This behaviour... is completely unbecoming of any hero or vigilante.

Sparrow takes down a criminal with a flip that immediately had Nightwing next to her. Chatting as they continued the fight, seemingly experimenting with different styles with the others instructions. With all the criminals around him down he slowly approaches the few remaining that surrounded Songbird and Robin. The latter of which was telling him to stop singing to no avail.

"Um... whats going on here?" Batman doesn't jump at the sudden appearance of Red Robin no matter how much it caught him off guard, he must be more distracted than he thought.

“Just like you to show up when all the hard work’s done,” Robin sneers over at Red Robin.

“I wasn't the one that called for backup,” Red Robin says cooly, “Couldn’t you handle a few thugs?”

“Of course I can your presence here is unwanted as always,” Robin snaps, even as Red Robin takes down the last remaining criminal.

“Oh you two are definitely brothers,” Songbird grins, cutting off Red Robin's retort.

“Tt You are completely- How do you even come to such a inane conclusion,” Robin surprisingly falters, Songbird grinning wider.

“So you’re not?” Songbird pesters, not waiting for further denial, “Cause you seem to really like each other,"

They both start arguing with Songbird. The latter just listening and adding provocation whenever necessary. Easing them both into a teasing atmosphere, playfully more than hurtfully sending out insults.

Nightwing was now showing Sparrow a particular kick flip. All the criminals around them wisely staying still if they were conscious. The two stop to laugh wherever the others say something particularly ludicrous.

Batman watches them, training his years of discipline to keep a smile from tugging on his lips.

I suppose it can be a good thing.

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

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month

[triple-pupil]

Trying to learn Chilean Sign Language spelling.

Intento aprender a deletrear en Seña Chilena.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson- Chapter 7: Non-Productive Time

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: On a slow afternoon, Shane remembers a couple of fun evenings with Sy, and can’t help but start texting him…he turns out to be a bad influence.

Don’t want spoilers? Click me first to catch up!

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, a steamy scene that bumps up against the line of smut/not smut…it looks like smuttish is, in fact, a thing, (see what I did there? Toss a high five to your fic writer for the paraphrased Witcher quote in these here notes! lol! Sorry, i’m tired...and in a weird mood tonight...) so, anyway, using that. I love it. 

Author’s Note: This chapter was about half done before I even started SI1 and SI2! So that’s why it’s come along so quickly in the wake of them. It could also mean that there are some continuity issues…I found a couple during the re-write of the first part, and more when I was proofing, so it should be good, but…fair warning, one or more could have escaped me! Also, let me know if the text convo is hard to follow. I’ll try to reconfigure it to be more clear. It seemed to me like context was enough, and they’d had text convos before, and no one said anything…this one’s longer by about 300%, though, so…feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags: 

@onlyhenrys

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@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby

@suavechops

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

Time seemed to pass slowly when Shane wasn’t with Sy. When they weren’t having dinner together, or doing their typical date thing. She thought about their second date. One of the bars in town, chosen for its above average bar food but mostly, it’s pool tables. The warning he’d given her via text had made her laugh:

We’re goin’ to Cade’s for apps and pool, if that's okay. As gorgeous as you looked in that blue dress you wore last night, I recommend jeans and a T-shirt for tonight, okay?

She took his suggestion. A simple black tee, because she was a food klutz from hell, layered over a red camisole, and her favorite jeans. It showed off her dainty arrow necklace well.

While they played, they drank beer and talked about life, getting deeper into things than they could at therapy sessions.

“Dad split when I was about ten, I guess. Mom did her best with her only son, but she sent me to my grandpa’s a lot when she was working or just…needing her own time. He’d been an army man. Fought in Korea. His dad was in World War II. It felt like…I don’t know, this pull, like I was meant to join up.”

“Destiny?” She asked. A dreamy tone overtook him when he talked about his family and his now former career.

“I guess. Never though too much of all that before.”

They smiled at one another. Knowing.

“What was he like? Your grandpa?”

“Oh, Pap was the best. He was a mechanic in the service and so he could get anything hummin, ya know? We fixed up and built motors for all kinds a’ shit. My first car was a ‘67 Shelby Mustang with the fast back all because when I was about 14, he found most of one at a salvage yard and basically rescued it from the crusher. Got it for about nothin’. For two years we collected parts and did body work on that thing. And by the time I turned sixteen, it was the most beautiful, show-ready Kerry green machine you ever seen.”

“One of my favorite cars! I’d love to see pictures!”

“I’ve still got ‘er.” He grinned. “When Pap died, it got…hard for me to drive her, ya know? So…special occasions only now. And he left me his truck, which he’d just bought brand new while I was on my first tour. That F150 crew cab we came here in, with all the bells 'n whistles. I couldn’t let such a fine automobile go to waste.” He grinned.

“You’re such a gear head.” She chuckled.

“Hey, you may be glad about that when you need somebody to get your own motor humming.” He teased back at her, bending over the table to take his shot and sinking it deftly. He said they would only play for fun, but he was still winning this round…which she didn’t think was that fun.

“Okay, I deserved that.”

“The shot, or the innuendo?” He asked to clarify.

“Yes.” They laughed. He eventually did miss, making it her turn.

"Ya know, I'm disappointed in this date, Shane." He baited.

"How come?" she asked, a bit hurt.

"A guy only asks a girl to play pool with him so he can show her how to shoot…and you already know."

It was true. She'd played a lot growing up and even a bit as she got older. She and her siblings loved billiards. Her whole family, really. And although she was no professional, she wasn't half bad for an amateur.

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently, sizing up the table for her next shot, but knowing with a fair amount of certainty what he was implying.

"You know. I wanted to get all close to ya. Show ya how to grip that cue in your hand. How to stand, bent at the hip, where to eyeball your shot from." he smiled. "All that shit ya see in movies that makes the girl all nervous and excited that the guy's touchin' on her. Pressed up against her."

Shane grinned, picked up the small, blue cube of chalk and rolled the concave side over the tip of her cue…she had no need to do so, most people didn't, really…but she made herself look really sexy doing it and asked Sy, "Is that right? Well, I guess you'll have to find another way to get your cheap thrills, because this girl has been known to run a table." She bent over the green felt seductively, the angle at which she did so displaying her décolletage in his direction just enough to tantalize him into licking his lips. She took her shot at the 10 ball, but sunk the 8 instead, losing her the game…damn. She shouldn't have gotten cocky.

"Run it where, sunshine? Into the ground? Off a cliff?" he laughed as she stomped over and began to poke him mercilessly in the ribs.

"Come on, Minnesota Fats. Let's pay the tab and find something a little cozier to do."

"Oka--wait, did you just call me fat?" he was incredulous. She laughed.

"Oh my God, you thought YOU were gonna teach ME about billiards…Minnesota Fats is like the most famous pool player of ever. I am not calling you fat."

"You messin' with me?" he squinted.

"Sy, google it. I promise. I would never call you fat. You're… my sexy man bear."

"Technically a bear is a fat animal." he sulked.

"Why don't you tell that to one when it's chasing you down to make a meal of ya!" Shane laughed. "Come on. Remember? I think I mentioned something about… finding another way for you to get cheap thrills. Lets explore that, shall we?" she whispered into his ear. He dropped some bills on their table nearby to more than cover their food and beer, and they hauled ass into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had definitely been exploring. In the two weeks since they'd been given the green light to see each other outside of therapy--the day Sy basically handed Shane's boss her own ass--they'd spent most evenings with each other, unless Shane had a particularly late evening at work or an early day the next day. A few nights, they had been together so late, that just staying over seemed the most reasonable option. But they had both agreed to take things slowly with the physical stuff. It had been a long time since either of them had been in a relationship, and given their patient/therapist situation, waiting a while for the sex had seemed like a good idea…on paper. On the sofa had been a different story.

One day last week, she'd had to make an early night of things, and stood up from his couch, but was pulled back down to straddle his lap.

"Hold on a minute, sunshine. Why don't you gimme a proper goodbye before ya go, hmm?" he held her so close to him at every curve of their bodies, like the pieces of a puzzle snapping flush together. His kisses were deep and agonizing, his beard gently brushing her mouth, teasing her with its uncommon softness. She returned the ardor, squeezing him in every way she could.

She couldn't contain the desire pooling at her center, especially when he clearly couldn't contain his, either, straining against his shorts, pressing against her so deliciously, right where she needed him. She didn't hold back. And he was nothing if not encouraging to her endeavor.

"That feels so good, baby. You're so warm. Mmm." he whispered as he nipped at her ear and bit at her neck. She hadn't intended to, but she felt herself slipping over the edge, into pure euphoria and gripped at his hair, still rather short, though growing out from the mandated buzz. The length made him even more sensitive and when she ran her hands up his neck and over the back of his head, the result was like an electric current straight to his manhood. His body tensed as his release followed hers seconds later.

"Fuck." he said. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" she was truly confused.

"For losin' it like a teenager." he sighed and laid his head against the back of his couch in surrender…an unfamiliar sight, Shane was certain.

"Don't worry about it. I mean…it's not quite how I pictured our first time, but--"

"Oh, hell no. This doesn't count as a TIME, sunshine. This is batting practice. A warm up.”

"Ooh, you and your baseball references again. I told you, I need to leave, Sy. You can't get me worked up with that kinda dirty talk." she kissed his cheek, and stood. "Walk me out?"

He did. And they stood holding one another in the dark, leaned up against her Explorer, Sy's back against the door, Shane's cheek on his bare, hairy chest, and the turning of the earth all but forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had to stop thinking about him. About their dates and the time they'd spent together. But her schedule had fallen apart for the day due to a nasty storm that had blown in, she had no more education to work on for now, and she could only clean and organize her treatment room and desk so thoroughly.

She guessed…the secretaries knew she was available if need be…and she was salaried…what was the harm in texting Sy? She'd stayed late and came in early and overworked herself in general so much for this clinic. She could justify a bit of downtime.

Hey! Whatcha doin?

Just did some exercises that my super hot PT gave me! *winky face emoji*

Uh-Oh, should I be jealous?

Mmm, hard to say, sunshine. I guess it'll depend on which one of you sleeps with me first. *devil emoji*

Smart money is on the one who’s already let you get to second base…and basically third, even though…does it count if it’s basically because of a dare. Induced by Jack Daniels?

I think it counts if you came…*smirk emoji*

Damn those skilled fingers and Tennessee whiskey.

What can I say. I told ya I knew how to get a motor humming. *cool guy emoji*

You certainly do. No doubt about that.

So how's your day goin', sunshine?

Eh, everyone's cancelled on me. I have no one until 4:00, and I have nothing to do until then. I've decided to see it as a blessing and text my favorite fella.

And when he didn't respond, you resorted to me? *smirk emoji*

Hey you know that you have no competition for my affection other than like, my dad…and Chris Evans. Lol

Your dad, I'm sure I couldn't compete with if I tried, from what you've told me. Chris…well, I'm a REAL captain, not some guy jumpin' around in tights.

Mmmm, shame. I bet you'd look good in a getup like that. *heart eyes emoji*

You think so?

Yup! *American flag emoji*

You wanna be my Black Widow?

I mean…I've already basically got a costume…*embarrassed monkey emoji*

*several lines of big eye emojis*

Yeah, a few Halloweens ago…I was Romanoff. Now you know. I'm a total nerd.

I'm a nerd, too, sunshine. Serious nerd.

How am I just finding out about this? There's next to no merch at your place, and you never wear typical nerd shirts…*skeptical face emoji*

You haven't seen my whole place…*wink emoji*

What, are you telling me you have Batman bedsheets? *lol emoji*

Oh, it's much…much worse than that. The bedroom is pretty neutral, but…I have a…kind of rec room in the basement that is basically nerd central.

Oh. Em. Gee. I can't WAIT to see that, Sy!!! And how dare you hold out on me!!!

Well, I mean, I didn't wanna lay out all my cards right off the bat. I'm playing the long game.

Ah, so, when do I get to see this nerd trap?

Come on over, sunshine. *smiley face*

I said, I've got a patient at 4:00.

Everyone's cancelled on you. Can't you cancel on them for once?

Not unless I'm violently ill do I ever have any patients cancelled on my behalf.

So…say you're violently ill and come see me. *shrugging man emoji*

I dunno, Sy…

I got stuff to make that soup you like…

She had made it clear to him how much she loved soup, especially a good creamy potato soup, and on one of their dates, he'd had her over and there was a big pot of the stuff on his stove, made from scratch. She'd never had better, and he almost got lucky that night…and I mean…he still got a little lucky. He cooked for her AND cleaned up, AND let her pick the movie that night. She still picked an action movie, because she wasn't really a romance movie type, overall. Even so. Could she leave him hanging?

She opened her thread with Heather in her messenger app on her laptop.

Heather, is there anyone who could take my last patient, Mr. Lopez?

Looks like Cheri has a cancel around that time. Need me to move him?

If you could. I'm not feeling well.

Are you pregnant?

Omg, every fucking time. Why when anything is amiss in a woman's life must it be pregnancy?! And why is it okay to ask that question?! Ugh! She loved Heather like a sister, and it probably was just a joke, but uuuuuugh!

Yes…yes I am. *eye roll emoji* I've got a killer headache that's making me queasy. I'll email Susan. Thanks.

You bet. Tell Sy I said hi. *wink emoji*

Shut up.

After a quick and concise email to her boss, she picked her phone back up. One unread message.

You there, sunshine?

She simply replied,

Get that soup ready, Captain, I'm on my way.

Up Next: Chapter Eight: Heat/Ice

[keanureevesisbae]

Caught in a Blizzard - Part 2

Summary: Luna wakes up in Chris Evans’ hotel room and can’t leave, because of a blizzard. What starts as a therapy session, talking about the disbandment of Brave Elegance, ends in something a little more spicier. 

Pairing: Chris Evans x Luna Hwang (Asian OFC)

Warnings: There is sex in this. Like lots of it: oral, body fluids and all. 

Wordcount: 6k

A/N: if you want to be on the taglist, just let me know! Also, I love to read your guys’ thoughts and feedback xx

Masterlist // Part 1 // Part 3 

Fuck, this must be the worst hangover I’ve experienced in years and I didn’t even had that much to drink. My head is pounding like crazy and when I open my eyes, I’m practically blinded by the brightness of the sun that is coming through the thin white curtains. When my eyes are finally used to the lights, I try to figure out where the fuck I am, because this sure does not look anything like my bedroom back in New York.

Oh shit, wait, I’m not in New York, I’m in London. I push myself up and stare around the room. This can’t be my hotel room, because my bedroom had pink walls.

Hold up… Those are male clothes in the corner and spilling out of the open suitcase.

I had sex last night? Oh my God, I really don’t remember anything at all. I remember talking to a bartender, after I went on Graham Norton. Oh fuck, Chris Evans was on the show as well. I bet he thinks less of me…

Though, he was ready to become a Fairy he told Graham and after my performance, he was the first to stand. I think I have gained a fan.

But who did I have sex with? It has been more than a year ago since I did something even remotely sexual with another person present, so I’d like to remember the occasion. I look around and see my over knee boots in the corner of the bedroom, neatly put away.

Oh, the guy was a gentleman too.

Wait a second, I’m still wearing my dress. That is weird, because usually after sex, I’m just naked and if I’m wearing anything at all, it’s the guys’ shirt.

Hm, this is strange.

I should investigate this. I manage to push myself out of bed, but the second I’m standing on my feet, I stumble against the wall. Geez, I’m a fucking klutz, especially when I’m hungover. I open the door and try to get myself to the kitchen for a glass of water, but I’m out of breath by the time I reached a cupboard two feet away from me. I place my hand on the surface and pinch myself in my side.

Maybe I’m getting too old to get wasted like this. I’m just twenty three years old, so I’m not even close to thirty. But I don’t think I can handle alcohol that well, especially not this type of vodka.

‘You’re up,’ I hear someone say. His voice does sound pretty familiar though, but I can’t really figure out where I know it from.

‘Barely,’ I answer groggily, looking around me, not seeing anyone. ‘Where are you?’

‘In the kitchen.’

Desperate to see the man I spend the night with, I force myself to walk to the kitchen. He doesn’t sound British though, so maybe he is a tourist? I stare at someones back and from the looks of it, he has broad shoulders and shorter darkish blonde, brown hair. His butt is beautifully shaped.

Not too shabby, Luna.

‘Tea?’

The man turns around and I gasp, my eyes widening in the process. I’m with Chris Evans? Holy shit. What did I do last night? ‘Goodness motherfucking gracious,’ I mutter. ‘What am I doing here?’ I don’t even wait for his answer, because I add in absolute terror: ‘Oh shit, did we have sex last night?’

He starts to laugh, pouring some hot water in a mug. He places it in front of me on the bar, together with four teabags for me to choose from. That’s so considerate, I think to myself.  He is even cuter in real life. ‘No, we didn’t have sex.’

‘Thank the stars. Because if I’ve had sex with Captain America, I’d like to remember it.’ What the fuck are you talking about? ‘Wait, no, forget that I said that.’ My entire face is on fire and I wish I could just disappear right now. ‘I’m so sorry, Chris.’

‘Well, if we had sex, I’d like to make it a little bit more memorable, if I’m being honest with you.’ He chuckles and gestures I should take a seat on the stool. Oh my God, I think I’m gonna die because of that comment, but I pull myself together like the mature woman I am and take place on the high stool.

He looks more approachable with this nice knitted sweater in a dark green color. I bet I look like a Julia Roberts Pretty Woman lookalike, but I failed miserably. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asks me.

‘Like shit. I really don’t remember anything of last night. Did I embarrass myself?’

‘Well,’ Chris says with a smile and that can’t be anything good, ‘you kept me pretty entertained.’

‘Oh fuck, I’m so sorry.’ I place my elbows on the hard surface of the bar, hiding my face in my hands. ‘I probably ruined your entire night.’

‘You really didn’t.’

That causes me to look back at him again. ‘I didn’t? I was drunk.’

He shakes his head. ‘No, honestly, you didn’t. I actually really liked your company. You are truly the funniest woman I’ve ever met.’

‘Do I want to know what I did?’

Chris shrugs. ‘It’s nothing too bad. You complimented me about my face, my thighs and my hands.’

I open a teabag and let it sink into the hot water. ‘Oh no, I didn’t just compliment you. Spill, what did I say?’

‘You said I had a pretty face,’ Chris starts and I thank the universe that I was in that type of drunken state. ‘But that it was that pretty that you could just lick it and not regret it.’

Fuck, this is terrible.

‘You said something about chicks loving to ride my thighs and how I have lovely hands. You wanted to know if I had spanked someone with them, causing you to confess that you’d never been spanked.’ How can he say that with a straight face?

I want to die. I clear my throat, hoping I can figure out what to say to him now. Normally with people, I honestly don’t care what I said to them in a drunk state, but this… To this gorgeous human being… ‘Right,’ I say. ‘You know, I should probably go.’

‘You can’t.’

‘Oh, you’re holding me hostage now, mister Evans?’ I ask him, cocking an eyebrow. I wouldn’t complain, but I don’t want to take up more of his time. Also, I don’t want to continue embarrassing myself.

He chuckles. ‘No, there is a blizzard and we are ordered not to leave the hotel or our room for that matter.’

I stare at the window, only to see that the entirety of what I can see of London is covered with a thick layer of snow. ‘No, no, no,’ I whine. ‘I’m so sorry, I look like an actual escort and you probably want to spend time by yourself and not me.’

Chris shrugs. ‘I actually like some company. Don’t really like being alone,’ he admits. ‘You know, how about you take a shower and I’ll see if I have some clothes for you here.’

‘You’ve got lady clothes laying around?’ I ask him, cocking an eyebrow. ‘Didn’t peck you for that, Chris Evans, but you know, to each their own.’

‘Some clothes of mine that you might fit.’

‘Oh no,’ I chuckle, ‘you are actually blind. Have you seen you and me? I’m probably at least thirty centimeters smaller than you and a whole load of kilos lighter than you. You think I could fit in your clothes?’

He smiles, before he winks at me. ‘Let’s find out.’

✘ ✘ ✘

After a long shower, I see that Chris has placed some neatly folded clothes in front of the bathroom door. I have scrubbed off all of my left over make-up from my face and I stare at my brighter skin for a second. I look better now than I did with make-up smeared all over my face and neck. I see Chris has some moisturizer laying around on the bathroom sink. I open the jar and take a sniff.

I remember this exact smell from yesterday. Apparently I was pretty close to him.

I take a bit out of the jar, before I smear it on my face. After I patted the moisturizer into my skin, I walk out of the bathroom in a sweatpants that is way to big for me, some thick socks and a sweater of his. It feels so domestic, something I never experienced. Before I auditioned on the X-Factor, I never fell in love and ever since that, I never had time to date.

Rosie had her brief relationship with Justin Bieber (but we all know how that ended) and Daliah is still dating Michal B. Jordan. He was around a lot when we were still a group and he is nice, always bringing flowers for Daliah, but also for the rest of us, so we didn’t feel left out.

From the five of us, I was the one that never wanted a relationship. I just wanted a life that completely existed of music. But this feeling, wearing someones clothes that smell like said person, it makes me feel oddly loved and taken care of.

Chris is sitting in front of the television, leaned back against the cushions. I see he placed some snacks in front of him on the coffee table and even two mugs filled coffee. This man has been so insanely thoughtful ever since I woke up and I feel like he was thoughtful the night before.

‘There you are,’ he says with a wide smile once he notices me.

I highly doubt anyone has ever looked at me like that before and was this happy to see me.

‘Well, you look even better in my clothes than I thought you would. Come on, take a seat,’ he tells me, patting the spot right next to him on the couch.

My cheeks are a bit flushed, as I plop down next to him and grab the mug filled with coffee. ‘How come I’m actually in your hotel room?’ I ask.

‘Well, I saw you in a bar and you were pretty hammered, so I figured I’d take you to your hotel, but you couldn’t remember where you were staying. I felt like it would be better if I took you to my place. No worries, every advantage you tried to take of me, I politely declined.’

I shake my head because I can’t believe myself. ‘Oh no, oh no. What advantages?’

‘One, you tried to pull me on your lap when we got in the cab. Two, you tried to strip tease when we got here. Three, you wanted to give me a lap dance, but fell on the floor.’

I wonder on what floor we are on, so I can throw myself out of this window. I don’t want to be here ‘I’m sorry,’ I apologize again. ‘This is so fucking embarrassing.’

‘Like I said before,’ Chris laughs, ‘you kept me pretty entertained.’

He continues to watch some television, while I check my phone. It’s weird not to see any messages from my band members. Ever since we broke up a few months ago, we barely spoken. Well, I haven’t spoken to anyone, I have no idea what they are doing, maybe they are talking to one another. I kind of wished that I could open our groups chat again, so I could tell them about where I’m at right now.

I sigh deeply, as the realization hits me that I don’t have anyone anymore. It’s just me. I mean, I like Gia with all my heart, but she has her own life and she is just my manager. Not my friend. Not my soulmate.

‘Are you okay?’ Chris asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

‘Yeah, I’m okay.’

‘You don’t look okay.’

‘I’m hungover, Chris,’ I tell him. ‘I usually look like shit then.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ he says. ‘You look sad. You can talk to me, you know? I think we are going to be stuck here for quite some time.’ He smiles and I feel oddly safe, like I can spill my thoughts here and not be judged.

After much consideration, I ask: ‘What is it like? Having a family?’

He frowns deeply. ‘Why do you ask?’

I should just stop talking right now. ‘I don’t have anyone anymore,’ I instead whisper. ‘I was just wondering what it would be like to have one. To be part of a real family, one that loves you no matter what.’

Chris sighs and says: ‘Being part of a family has been the greatest blessing and privilege of my life.’

Leave it to him to make it all poetic and shit. I want to hate this guy, but I can’t for obvious reasons. I watched so many interviews with him and he seems like such a likable and pleasant guy to be around. I like being with him already.

‘I heard something about your family situation,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry you had to go through that.’

People tell me that a lot. Everyone is always so sorry, but it never felt so sincere as it does when Chris Evans says it. I shrug. ‘Well,’ I mumble, ‘it taught me a lot.’

‘What did it teach you?’

I look to the side, to this beautiful man, who is only a few months away from being forty. It’s weird that I feel so at ease with someone who is almost seventeen years older than me.  It’s actually really strange that I feel at ease with anyone for that matter. It took me weeks before I was comfortable around my members. ‘That I shouldn’t get attached to people,’ I say. ‘That’s not really healthy or anything, so I should stop that, but… I can’t stop it.’

‘It isn’t, you’re right,’ he says in a soft voice. ‘I’m not going to tell you what you can and cannot do, but it’s healthy for people to attach.’

‘I did,’ I whisper. ‘I got attached to my girls, though I barely showed it. For six years we were always together. We shared every hit, we shared every birthday. They were my family, you know. I could tell them anything.’

Chris nods. ‘Then why did you guys break up?’

This hurts. I never said it out loud. Not to Gia, not to someone else in my new record label. ‘Because they were jealous,’ I say. ‘I got attached, but I didn’t tell them how much I cared about them. There were clips online, where people would make a compilation of the things I did for them. It were the things like, opening a water bottle and shoving that in their hands without looking at them or pulling them behind me when people got too close for my liking. But I never told them. Instead, I started to work extra hard, so the record label, our managers, producers and our fans would like me more and I actually hoped they would get jealous. I had this desperate need to prove that I was better than they all were.’

Chris is clearly thinking about what he should say to me. ‘Why?’

‘So other people would finally notice me.’ I look up and let out a shaky breath. ‘I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about my sad sob story.’

‘I do,’ he says, placing a caring hand on my knee. ‘It’s not a sad sob story, it’s your life story. It shaped you to who you are today. Remember, Luna, there will be other people that’ll care about you.’

This is bizarre. I’m meeting up with someone for the first time, after thirsting over them for years and now it turned into a full on therapy session, that I actually don’t mind. For years I’ve sat through the forced therapy sessions I had back when I was in foster care, watching the time go by as I kept quiet.

And now I just spill the details and I don’t necessarily feel any regret.

‘You know,’ I say. ‘I remember the day I found out my parents died in that car accident. I was standing outside of the school, with my teacher at the age of four. Everyone was already at home, but my parents didn’t arrive. I didn't want to miss them, so I sat outside for three hours. After that I was forced into the system.’ I look to the side and whisper: ‘I was in sixteen different families and I moved around so many times. All I wanted was being loved and that was when I was with my band members.’

Chris nods. I don’t know what is so damn special about him that I just spill out all my worries, my fears and feelings. ‘There is still time, Luna,’ he says. ‘It’s not too late.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What I said, there will be other band members. There will be other people that can care about you. You just have to let them in.’

I think about that for a second, before I stand up. ‘I’m starving,’ I say to him. ‘You want something?’

Chris Evans nods, though he looks a bit taken aback from my sudden change of subject. ‘Sure, let me help you.’

He gets up from the couch, towering over me. His large frame, his handsome face, the way he looks so huggable in that sweater. I bite my lip.

Don’t even think about that, Luna. It’s definitely not going to happen.

✘ ✘ ✘

We prepare some food together and being all domestic with Chris Evans, was something I never thought I could have in life, even if it’s only for a short amount of time. We laugh as he nearly cuts off his finger, he pinches my cheek with his pesto covered fingers and for the first time in many months, I feel accepted and part of something again.

Being with the girls day in day out was tough, but I was never alone. It is nice not to be alone again. All of my foster parents never cared, back in high school I never had a lot of friends, since I moved a lot. Being with four wonderful girls for that long, gave me a certain security.

But I lost that. Now I have nobody, while they are back home with their families, their loved ones, probably still mad at me.

Being stuck with Chris Evans is so nice, though it’s forced since we can’t leave this room. While we eat our food, we talk about his upcoming movies. He is so enthusiastic, to a point where I have to stop him from talking about it more, because he is going to spoil the entire movie, that I so desperately want to see now.

Chris looks at me, like no one has ever looked at me before. I always thought that when I  would meet Chris Evans, I would stare at him with a look solely consisting of lust. I always wondered what he would be like in bed, between my thighs. Of course I still wonder about that, but I actually like him a lot now, as a person.

He makes me feel like I matter and feeling like that, is something so unexpected.

‘This is so unfair,’ I say, throwing the cards on the little coffee table in front of him. ‘You are such a cheater.’

‘I’m a cheater?’ he laughs, his voice a bit higher out of disbelieve. ‘You peeked at my cards, miss Luna and you still managed to lose!’ He pokes my side with his finger, causing me to squeal. ‘You are a disaster.’

‘I’m not a disaster. You are just stupid. I don’t like playing card games with you and I hate you.’

His mouth is formed in a perfect o shape, before he launches forward to tickle my sides.

‘No, Chris, stop it!’ I laugh, as I try to push him off of me, but he is too strong.

Of course he is too strong.

He pushes me deeper in the couch, his hands on my side, as he halts his tickles. He is right in between my legs. This shouldn’t make me horny, this shouldn’t make me horny. ‘I never knew you were such a sore loser.’

‘I’m not a sore loser,’ I manage to choke out, still trying to catch my breath. I can almost cut the tension between us with a knife. His face is so close, his hot breath against my lips. I could just kiss him right now. He smells so lovely and his large hands in my sides…

‘Luna,’ he says, pulling me out of my thoughts, ‘you are an amazing singer, but you suck at card games.’

I slap his chest. ‘Not everyone can be perfect like Chris Evans.’

He took off his sweater about half an hour ago and this shirt is totally accentuating his strong arms and his shoulders, his perfectly shaped upper body. ‘Are you okay?’ he asks me, not moving an inch.

How can I be okay, when I’m in a position like this with you? My cheeks turn red. ‘I’m fine,’ I choke out.

‘Are you sure?’ He places a hand on my forehead. ‘You feel kinda hot.’

‘I am.’ No, no, no! Luna Hwang, why did you say that? Don’t say something like that.

‘How come?’

Wait a minute. Wait a damn minute. I spot his sly smile on his face, his chest slowly more pressed against mine. He is doing this on purpose. I never thought this man would do something like that.

Sneaky bastard. He looks so innocent with those beautiful eyes, those long lashes, but meanwhile he is just as horny as I am probably.

‘Well,’ I say, finally gaining back some confidence, ‘you in this black shirt isn’t helping the situation at all.’

Chris smiles. ‘Figured. Took you long enough to react.’

‘So you did do it on purpose,’ I say, cocking an eyebrow as I chuckle.

‘Well,’ he whispers, his hand cupping my face as his thumb grazes over my bottom lip, ‘don’t you think for a second I didn’t notice every single thing you have been doing. Biting your lips, stretching out so I can see some of your skin. You did that on purpose too.’

I almost think that he can hear my heartbeat and I swallow hard.

‘If you don’t want to do this,’ he whispers, ‘we don’t have to do this. Just tell me.’

He should stop being so considerate. ‘Chris, Chris, Chris,’ I say, placing my hands on his strong chest, ‘you honestly thought we’d get through this blizzard without us having sex.’ I start to smile. ‘I honestly feel like you underestimated me.’

He chuckles and says: ‘Tell me, what did you have in mind?’

Is he giving me the ability to give matters into my own hands? That has never happened before. ‘Well,’ I say, as he buries his face in the nape of my neck, slowly pressing soft kisses on the delicate skin. ‘I’ve thought about you between my thighs.’

‘Can be arranged.’

‘And I didn’t lie yesterday: I bet girls love to ride to ride your thighs.’

‘No one has ever done that,’ he admits, something I find very hard to believe. No one has rode these thighs before? Those lovely thighs? His large hand slip underneath my sweater, as his calloused fingers touch my bare skin. ‘But I’d love for you to be the first. Take off your clothes, Luna,’ he whispers. ‘All of it.’

Shivers run down my spine, as I watch him sitting up straight, positioning himself on the couch with a smile.

‘You wanted to do a striptease yesterday,’ he says with a chuckle. ‘What’s stopping you now, Luna?’

‘No alcohol.’

I shred myself from his sweater, the sweatpants and socks, as I run my fingers through my hair.

‘All of it, baby,’ he tells me.

I take a deep breath. Seeing him fully clothed and me slowly becoming more naked every second passing. I undo my bra and I hook my fingers around the waistband of my underwear. Chris lets his lip go over his bottom lip.

‘You are breathtaking.’ He pulls me on his lap, on one of his thighs, his hands roaming my body, until one of them gets intertwined in my hair as he pulls me in for a kiss. Oh shit, I’m kissing Chris Evans. The Chris Evans.

My wet core is pressed against the fabric of his jeans. I’m so desperate for some friction between my legs. I grind my hips back and forth, causing me to moan against his mouth. ‘Very good,’ he mumbles, placing his hands on my hips, to help me set the pace that he desires.

His kisses are nothing with what I expected them to be. I thought he was sweet and considerate, just like everything he has done for me today, but these kisses are nothing like that. He is dominant and demanding. He takes my bottom lip between his teeth, as he forces me to ride his thick thigh faster, flexing his muscles for different kinds of sensation.

‘Oh fuck,’ I moan out.

‘Look at you,’ he whispers with a satisfied grin on his face. ‘You are so sexy, Luna.’ He pulls me in for yet another long kiss, his tongue dancing around mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and I feel the familiar sensation coiling up deep inside of me, causing me to whimper against his plump lips.

And then he forces my hips to stay put.

‘No,’ I whine.

Chris smiles, as he squeezes my ass. I’m sure he is leaving marks on the soft flesh. ‘You soaked my jeans, baby.’

‘That’s your fault. You could’ve not worn them.’

He gently pushes me off his lap, sitting on his knees in front of the couch and he spreads my legs apart. He presses kisses on my inner thighs. ‘Pretty girl,’ he notes. ‘So wet for me already.’ He looks up and smiles. ‘Can I?’

I nod. ‘Please,’ I beg, as I run my fingers through his beautiful locks. ‘Chris, please.’ I gasp when I feel his warm mouth on my aching center. He is fucking skilled with his tongue. He knows exactly what gets me off and he barely even knows me. I wrap my legs around his face. ‘Ri—Oh fuck, right there.’ I lean with my head against the back of the couch, as his tongue invades my tight hole from time to time.

No guy has ever done it like this before and no guy in the world can bring me towards the edge faster than Chris fucking Evans is doing. ‘I’m close, Chris,’ I cry out. For a second I fear he stops now, but this time he doesn’t.

Thank fuck he doesn’t.

He sucks sharply on my clit and it’s followed by the vibrations of his moans. I let out a strangled moan, as I don’t want to tell the entire hotel I’m having sex with Chris Evans.

Yet.

My body starts to shake on the couch as I ride out my high. I push his face away from my aching cunt, to catch my breath. ‘Shit, Chris,’ I chuckle. ‘You sure know what you are doing.’

Chris smugly grins, his beard covered in my juices, before he pushes himself up, so he can give me a long kiss on my lips. I taste myself, something that I normally hate, but right now, I love every single second of it. His lips slowly descend from mine to my jaw and to my neck. He wraps his lips around my hardened nipple and I arch by back in pleasure. The short hairs against prickling against my delicate skin.

He looks up at me with a smile, his eyes a few shades darker. He sits next to me on the couch and he gives me a kiss on my cheek. ‘Open your mouth, baby.’

No one has ever said that to me, but I oblige without thinking about it for a second. He pushes two fingers in my mouth and I run my tongue over them, nearly gagging on them as he sticks them deeper in my mouth. He pulls them out, drool dripping over my lips and chin. ‘Just tell me if you don’t want to do this or want to stop and I’ll stop right away.’

I nod and he dips two fingers inside. I try to push my legs together, but he hooks his ankle around mine, spreading my legs apart. His fingertips rub against the sensitive spot inside of me. His other hand is tangled in my hair, pulling the locks to give him more access to my neck. He continues to finger me at a pace that make my eyes roll back.

‘Come on, Luna,’ he encourages me, ‘you must let me know how you feel.’

‘Fuck,’ I choke out, but it’s followed by a pained moan.

He chuckle, pressing a tender kiss on my neck, before I feel his lips on my temple. ‘That’s a good girl. You are such a good girl for me.’

His thumb grazes over my clit and almost instantly my walls clench around his fingers, but I feel this unfamiliar feeling wash over me. Juices gush passed his fingers and I let out a pained sob as I close my eyes. I think I’m seeing stars. I hold his wrist, so he stops moving and I try to get my breathing a little normal. ‘Fuck, mister Evans,’ I breath out. ‘You are amazing.’

He slowly pulls his fingers out of me, before he kisses me softly.

‘I’ve never done that before,’ I admit, swallowing hard.

‘There is a first time for everything.’ He smiles at me and whispers: ‘You’re doing good, baby.’ He stands up from the couch and takes off his own clothes. I check out his body as his clothes drop to the floor. His perfect hip to shoulder ratio is perfect. I had an idea what he would look like naked, but rest assured: I’m not at all disappointed. His pubic hair is nicely groomed, his cock is thick and pretty long (changes are that I can feel him deep deep inside me).

Mister Chris Evans is very blessed.

‘On your back, baby,’ he whispers. I place my head on the cushion, as I position myself on the soft couch. He spreads my legs as he sits in between them. ‘Want to use a condom?’

‘I don’t,’ I whisper.

‘You still want to do this?’ he asks just in case.

I try to think back to the few bed partners I had and whether or not they ever asked me if I wanted to continue, if I still want to do this. Come to think of it: no one has ever asked me that. I nod. ‘I really do.’

Chris lines his tip with the bead of pre cum near my entrance, checking with me once more before he sinks into me, his thick length stretching me out. He is not even halfway in, when I hastily place my hand on his chest. ‘Oh shit, no stop,’ I say, panic dripping through every word I say. ‘Please, stop, Chris.’

‘I’m stopping, sweetheart. Talk to me. Are you okay?’ he asks, cupping my face with his strong hand.

‘It’s just that you are so big, Chris,’ I choke out. ‘Just give me a minute.’

I can see Chris wants to buff out his chest with pride, but he keeps it in. The burning stretch isn’t that terrible anymore. I give him a silent sign that he can continue and he slides all the way in.

Oh fuck, I spoke too soon, this burns way too much. I feel tears dripping over my cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

‘Don’t feel sorry. I’m hurting you, aren’t I? And please be honest with me, baby.’

‘You’re hurting me a little,’ I admit.

He leans in and gives me a kiss on my lips. ‘That is absolutely not my intention. Try to relax,’ he says, as he reaches between us, so his thumb can toy with my sensitive clit. ‘Look at me, beautiful.’

I do as he tells me to do and bite my lip. ‘This feels good, Chris,’ I say in a tiny voice, as pleasure finally takes over again.

He smiles. ‘I can tell. You’re doing such a good job.’

‘You can move now,’ I whisper. I wrap my legs around his hips and he pulls out, before slowing sinking right back in. I tighten around his thick length. I mean, I have my fair share of sex toys and a few partners, but nothing had the girth his length has.

Almost a pornographic moan leaves my lips. I hide my face in my hands, but he pries my fingers away. ‘This is exactly what I want to hear, Luna. Use that pretty voice of yours to let the entire hotel know how good I’m making you feel.’

‘Shit, Chris, I’m gonna—’ I can’t even finish my sentence, as the rush of pleasure jolts through my entire body. I let out a painful cry against his shoulder, as he continues to thrust deep inside me, not slowing down. ‘Chris, I can’t do this anymore.’

No one has ever done this with me. Ever used me like this. Made me cum over and over again.

‘I’m almost there, sweetheart,’ he says, his tone soft. ‘Can you hang in there for me, baby? If not, just say so and I’ll stop.’

His hands are holding my face so gently, his lips pressing tender kisses on my lips, it all causes me to simply nod, though it’s so so sensitive down there.

‘You want me to continue?’

‘Yes,’ I whisper. ‘Please.’

‘Such a good girl,’ he says. ‘I’m very close, sweetheart. Where do you want me to cum, baby? Tell me.’

‘Inside,’ I moan out, as tears are dripping over my face. ‘Fuck, I really need it inside.’

His hands push my hips deep in the couch, speeding up his thrusts. I don’t care if anyone can hear us anymore, because I cry out loud. The room is filled with the obscene sounds that consist of how wet I am, skin against skin and his moans and my screams combined. From the way he is groaning, I can tell he is close.

I grab his face, press my lips firmly against his. His hips stutter against mine, as I feel the deep spurts of cum painting me from the inside. Chris rides out his high, placing his head on my chest, lingering inside for a brief moment. ‘Fuck,’ he says.

‘You can say that again,’ I laugh. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine, I’m fine,’ he chuckles. ‘Haven’t done this in a very long time, that’s all. Are you okay? I’m sorry, I let myself go for a moment.’

‘I think I’m going to feel you for days,’ I admit. ‘With the way you used me.’

‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?’ he quickly asks. It’s sweet that he sounds so sincerely worried, a full one eighty from how he used me a few seconds ago.

I shake my head. ‘No, you didn’t. Just had to get used to you. I do think I could use a shower, though.’

‘Well, let me join you then.’ He carefully pulls out, a whimper leaving my lips. He pulls me up, but because of the existence of gravity, I feel his cum dripping down my thighs. Chris smiles when he notices it too and lifts me up in his arms, before peppering my face with kisses. ‘So, how about a second round in the shower?’

Taglist: @diegos-butt​

[thestudyofdrama]

Skills I’d Like to Have

Polyglot: I’d like to speak several languages. Specifically, at minimum, Spanish, French, German, and Dutch. There are others, but I’d like to be completely fluent in those four. Why? There are a ton of plays and musicals I love in those languages that I would love to direct or act in.

Dance: I love musical theater, and I love dancing, but I have two left feet! I’m aiming to take more dance classes in the future.

Athletic ability: I’m a total klutz, but if I can lift a bit more or a run a bit faster or be able to swim, there are more roles and possibilities open to me.

Piano/guitar/harmonica/instrument playing: There are so many roles that either include or are improved by the actor being a proficient musician. Currently, I play piano, I’m working on acoustic guitar, and I’m about to start electric guitar, but I’m aiming to get a harp next year or in 2022 and take lessons.

Baton twirling: Because it’s fun, that’s why!

Whistle with my fingers: So I can hail a cab in the Big Apple!

Moonwalking: So I can show off at parties!

Juggle” Party trick!

Tie a tie: Because I want to wear tuxedos and look hella dapper!

Say the alphabet backwards: Tongue twister for vocal warm ups!

Stage combat: So I can be in ALL the Shakespeare! I want to be Mercutio! I want to be Hamlet! I want to be a sword wielding Beatrice!

Morse Code: I don’t know, it just seems like a cool thing to know and put on a resume!

Start a fire with tinder and kindling: In case I’m ever in a survival movie!

Knitting: It’s cute stage business!

Swimming: So I can be prepared in case I decide to work as a professional mermaid

[sweetdonutwolf]

R6S How You Met (SPETSNAZ)

I tried my best writing these staying as true to their characters as possible. This is for the Spetsnaz operators onlyKapkan, Tachanka, Glaz and Fuze

Warnings: Hunting and killing of animals, death of an animal. Very mild and I mean MILD smut in the form a quick kiss

Y/n= Your name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spetsnaz

Kapkan:

While out hunting you spotted a deer, it was a nice big buck, a 10 point by the looks of it.You pulled back on your bow steadying your aim. Letting the arrow go you watched as it headed for the target. A gunshot rung out in the distance, startled you looked away from the deer for a moment, it must have been another hunter close by. You headed towards the buck now dead on the ground.

As you walked over another figure appeared, a man walked up to the buck and started to pick it up.

“Hands off my deer dude” You were stern with your voice.

“Your deer?” The man had a just as stern voice.

“The deer with the arrow sticking out of its side, yeah its mine.” You flipped the animal over revealing the broken arrow sticking out from its heart. “See”

“You see this?” He turned the deer back over pushing its leg forward. He looked up at you, a bullet wound was clearly visible. “I got the shot off first therefor it’s my kill” he began picking the deer up. “Now I’ll take my deer and be on my way, better luck next time.”

“Wait lets talk about this.” It was a decent sized 10 point buck, the biggest you’ve ever shot and you weren’t going to let it go that easily.

You guys began going over proof as to why it was your kill arguing back and fourth. After about 30 minutes  of trying to figure it and not knowing who actually shot it first you guys decided to talk it over at a local bar. 

At the bar you and him completely got side tracked with other conversations laughing your asses of completely forgetting about the damn deer, which by the way was in the back of his truck. 

“So you’re telling me that you hid so well during hide and seek as a kid that they called search and rescue on you?” You began laughing.

“ It was a proud moment from my childhood” He laughed and took a sip of his drink. “Even search and rescue couldn’t find me till I came back out and greeted them.”

You raised your glass up. “That’s impressive, it explains your hunting skills”

“What about you how did you get so good at hunting?” He put his glass back down.

You looked him dead in the eye. “I hunted down all my Ex’s who wronged me.” You tried not to smile when you saw his expression change. You gave him a quick nudge on the shoulder laughing. “I’m kidding of course”.

“ I thought so” He looked relieved as if he actually believed you. “Plus with your hunting skill I’m surprised they haven’t found any bodies”. He gave you a nudge back.

“Ha-ha very funny but probably true”.You both had a little laugh.

The night went on and after another round of drinks he drunkenly gave you the buck saying it was gift to you for being so beautiful. You blushed which made him smile.

You guys had to be kicked out of the bar once it closed, neither one of you wanted to leave, you haven’t had this much for a while. Before parting ways he helped you haul it into your truck and you  gave him your number as a thank you after all you guys seem to hit it off pretty well. 

 You fumbled for your keys and you soon realized none of you were in the condition to drive. 

You both called a cab and with very good persuasion he got your cab driver to agree to you letting the dead buck in the car with you as long as you kept it covered of course. 

“I had a very fun time, I never got your name though.” He asked as he kindly opened the cab door for you.

“Oh right, it’s y/n” you sat down in the cab and looked up at him. “And yours?”

“Maxim Basuda” He held his hand out.

“Nice to meet you Maxim, thank you for the wonderful time.” Your hand met his and you gave it a friendly shake.” Next time I’ll teach you the proper way to hunt”. You let a little smile appear on your face.

“And I’ll teach the proper way to wrap a dead deer” He smiled and pointed to the dead animal next you in the car with its hoof hanging out.

You let out a little laugh. “Deal, goodnight Maxim, we’ll have to do this again soon”

“Till next time” He gently closed the door and the cab pulled away.

You went home that night feeling happier than you have in ages. Who knew from an argument that so much laughter could follow. Maxim called you the next day and planned your next outing together. 

Tachanka:

Sitting at the reception desk bored out of your mind you checked the schedule for today, it was fully booked. The door opened looking up the man caught you eye almost immediately. A big burly looking man came towering in, his presence alone shifted the feel of the room for you. You sat at the reception desk not knowing you were staring at him as he approached. He waved his hand in front of your face.

“Are you blind?” he continued to wave his hand in front of you. “Deaf too i see.”

“I’m so sorry, I---I was just lost in thought sir, how can I help you?”. You perked back up embarrassed by what just happened.

“I have an appointment for Alexsandr Senaviev, it’s for 11:30″ He let out a grin. You realized you were blushing and now thinking about it made you blush even more.

You quickly checked for his appointment, your cheeks still flushed from before. What was this man doing to you? You have only known him for less than 5 seconds and he’s already made you all flustered. 

“I’m sorry, What time was the appointment?” You realized you got lost in your own thoughts thinking about him. His charm was something else you thought.

“So you are deaf” He said back in a joking tone. “It’s for 11:30″.

You finally confirmed his appointment and asked him if he could wait in the waiting room. 

You kept telling yourself not to stare but you found yourself looking up at him on more than one occasion. Luckily you never caught eyes with him. You just couldn’t get over this gut feeling you had about him, he held himself so confidently. He was a big man after all but you felt a gentleness to him like underneath his rugged exterior was a soft hearted man and that kept drawing you closer to him and made you even more curious.

He finally got called back after what seemed like for ever. He walked by you and you looked at him once more. His eyes meet yours, you began to feel your cheeks go red again and quickly looked away. You were in love. I can’t be you kept telling yourself, it was foolish to feel this way about a stranger.

About an hour passed and Alexsandr came walking back out and stopped at your desk for a brief moment.

“We already have your next appointments planned out for the next couple of months sir” You looked up at him.

“I wanted to give you my number” He slid you a piece of paper.

“W-We already have that Sir” confusion filled your voice.

“I know but this one is my personal number” A grin grew on his face again making you blush for who knows how many times in a row now.”I’d like to take you out for dinner sometime, if that’s okay.”

“I-I-----” You were at a loss for words.

“ I’ll take that as a yes then.” He left the paper on your desk and began to turn around to leave.

“Yes!” You don’t even know where that word came from, you just said it without even thinking. “I’d love to”. You began to smile as well.

Alexsandr gave you a nod and headed out the building. Of course you watched him till the last second.

Your whole work day from then was spent daydreaming about the perfect date you’d have with him. You went home that night with butterflies in your stomach anxiously waiting for him to reach out to you. 

You guys went on your first date a week later. It was better than you expected way better, you had a feeling he was with his boisterous humor and booming laugh. You guys hit it off right away as if you were old friends and the rest is history.

Glaz:

Wondering the exhibits of the art museum always had a way of calming you. You felt connected to the pieces as if each one would take you to a whole different world, each piece had a painter and each painter had a story to tell through their work.

You finally reached the last room where your favorite painting hung alone in the back. Often overlooked, the painting of a lone bird perch on a tree branch spoke to you more than any other painting did. You stood looking at the delicately painted bird thinking how he resembled you in a way, all alone with people right next to you and in his case birds flying high in the background.

You felt the birds pain of being left behind by others, you were always a loner people judged you for being different and teased you for always having you face buried in an art book. You stood there taking in all the detail of the painting every brush stroke had a purpose, it was almost like a story to you. Each stroke added a new part and you couldn’t see the full story for what it was till the painting was finished and the last brush stroke was painted.

.Losing track of time you quickly checked your phone for the time not realizing how late it had gotten.

“Damn it.” You said under your breath.You had a date in less than 20 minutes at the other end of town and there was almost no way you’d make it on time.You had to rush out of there. As you took a step back you bumped right into someone, the impact making you fall back a bit, your bag fell to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, I can be a klutz sometimes.” You said embarrassed about the whole situation. You looked at the man and noticed a scar on his left eye.

“You’re okay, it’s no big deal.” He had a rich Russian accent to his voice it was almost scary in a way.

“I really didn’t see you there.” You brushed your hair away from your face as you went to retrieve your bag from the ground.  Before you even crouched all the way down he reached down and picked  it up and handing it back to you.

”No harm done.” He held out the bag and you took it from his grasp.

“Thank you” You began hurrying out the building.

The date went horribly. It wasn’t because you were five minutes late, that didn’t bother them at all. It was the fact that you spoke about art too much apparently. You weren’t surprised though everyone lost interest the moment you starting talking about it. They all gave you the typical glazed over look as they nodded randomly as if they had any interest at all.

This date was worse though. They ridiculed you for liking something so mundane saying you must be wrong in the head if you believed they talked to you. You had to hold back tears before you decided to get up and storm off.

Furious and heartbroken yet again you went back to the one place that brought you some comfort, the art museum.

You wondered back to your favorite painting tears began to gather in your eyes. You kept thinking you were unlovable and that no one would love you for who you are. You sat down on the bench in front of the painting and stared at the little blue bird who you related to so much. 

“You’re a lot like me little bird” You whispered under breath, a tear began to roll down your cheek. You quickly whipped it away.

“Rough night?” You knew that voice, looking up you saw the man you had bumped into earlier.

“You can say that.” You whipped away the rest of your tears as he sat down beside you. 

“I’m Timur by they way”. 

“ Y/n”. You replied back

“This is my favorite painting too” He pointed at the little bird painting. “ I like it because all though the bird is alone he’s the star of the show, everyone takes notice to him first.” He began pointing to the flock of birds painted above.        “Those guys are noticed last, they’re painted too similar to each other that they almost just fade away all together.” 

You sat there taking in his words for a moment, the two of you just sat there and took in the work. It was nice hearing someone talk about art the way you did it was a rare encounter to experience it seemed.

“I always saw him as lonely” You turned towards the man. “But now i see it, if everyone was the same like the birds leaving the other one the world would be boring, there wouldn’t be art with its own story to tell like this one.” He looked at you. “I mean that’s not a world I’d want to live in.” You noticed you were rambling on again like you did on your date. “I’m sorry, I can get kinda side tracked with this stuff, you don’t have to sit here listen to me ramble on” You locked eyes.

“I find it very interesting actually, it’s funny how things can represent and be seen in so many different lights”. He looked back at the painting.

You guys continued to talk about it before he asked you if you’d like to go around the museum with him. Gladly accepting his invite you spent the next couple of hours walking around talking about the other art works you felt connected to.

The sky grew darker and the museum was about to close. You started growing tired. Noticing this  may be his only chance Timur asked for your number. You gladly gave to him planning out your next outing together in the process.

Fuze: 

Your friend Eliza always tried to set you up with men before all of which never worked out in the long run. You wanted a guy who could stay level headed in any situation, one that knew what they wanted in a relation ship instead of beating around the bush for it.

 Eliza reassured you that this time she got the perfect guy for you. You felt like an idiot for ever agreeing to it in the first place. Another night of torture and complete bullshit conversations, you thought to yourself as you got your last shoe on. It was supposed to be casual but you did add a little extra with a nice necklace that your grandmother gave you. It was a dainty little diamond necklace that your grandfather bought before they moved out of Russia.

Arriving at the restaurant you could see Shuhrat through the window already seated. You had to do a double check at your phone to make sure you weren’t late. Just as you thought you were right on time as you walked through the door. Eliza had exchanged photos of you two prior to meeting so you knew what each other looked like.

Seeing you Shuhrat stood up and pulled out your chair. Water was already at the table, you saw it as a kind gesture.

“ Thank you” You sat down across from him. “ I hope I didn’t make you wait to long you must have gotten here really early.”

He took a seat. “It’s how I make sure who ever I meet is timely, if so it shows they’re serious about it all, I do like my partner serious.” He gave you a little smile.

“And I like men who know exactly what they want from a relationship” you returned a smile.

“Looks like its already working out, Eliza may have finally gotten it right for once.” He took a sip of his water.”She told me how she failed in the past on numerous occasions and that I couldn’t fuck this one up either, and as far as I can say I hope I don’t fuck it up either.”

“I won’t blame you if it doesn’t don’t worry, Eliza on the other hand won’t hear the end of it.” You laughed, Shuhrat joined in with you letting out a chuckle.

The waiter came by and you ordered your food. Shuhrat order some fancy Fish dish that you couldn’t pronounce and you ordered the steak. You guys continued talking about what you looked for in a partner and a relationship. You enjoyed getting it all out of they way so you both could see if you were on the same page.

“I have to say it’s a breath of fresh air to meet someone so sure of themselves as you are, and I don’t mean that in a bad way.” His voice was smooth with a lick of a Russian accent.

“I just like skipping the bullshit that’s all.” You took another sip of your water.”I don’t like wasting my time on someone for it not to work out in the end.”He nodded in agreement.

The food arrived and you guys finally moved on to other conversations. He talked about his time in the Spetsnaz, well as much as he could legally tell. He told his stories with so much passion. You could feel yourself falling for him. You guys continued to eat discussing various topics from the best movie ever made, which you guys had a civilized argument about, to what your future plans were. He told you that with his line of work he was never guaranteed that he’d make it back alive, his work was risky and he made sure you knew that.

“Everything we do is risky, I could choke on this last bite of steak and die right here.” You put the last bite in your mouth. “ See i just took a risk.” He laughed securing that he enjoyed dark humor which was another plus in your book.

 He gazed at your neck “That’s a very nice necklace, it suits you nicely.”

“Thank you.” You began twirling it around in your fingers.”My grandpa got if for my grandma before the moved”.

“So you have some Russian blood?” He smirked picking up his glass.”Just when I thought i couldn’t like you anymore.”

You blushed. It looks like you cracked his hard outer shell Eliza was talking about after all. Speaking of you knew she’d never let this down, the fact that you finally had a good time on one of her set up dates was going up there with her personal list of accomplishments.

You two sat a bit longer after finishing your meals this time you were talking about your memories of Russia from when you were a kid. Shuhrat finally had to go he had some training in the morning he couldn’t miss.

“I had a really great night, Thank you y/n”. He pulled your chair out once you stood up. “I can’t remember a time where I talked so freely to someone in a long time.” A smile was plastered on his face.

“Same to you, I’m not looking forwards to hearing Eliza brag about us though.” You laughed, together you two made your way outside. Shuhrat walked you to your car and opened the door for you, a true gentleman you thought. Before you got in your car you looked up at him and went in for a kiss. Shuhrat seems surprised at first but changed his mind quickly and kissed back.

“Till next time.” You left his lips lingering for more and got into your car.”

Shuhrat gave you a final wave goodbye before turning before his car. You made it home and instantly got a call from Eliza asking how it went. Tired though you fell asleep on the phone mid call.

[joonclouds]

A space situation

You sigh heavily and shut your eyes. The man was so intelligent, but days like this you wonder if sometimes his brain took unpaid leave.

“My house is literally a third the size of your closet.”

If this wasn’t your house you might have found it a little bit funny. But it is your house.

- 

Joon is your very rich very endearing sugar daddy but also very clumsy and sometimes rash in buying you whatever what he sees fit but it’s not very practical all the time. 

Namjoon x Reader

Genre: It’s a fluff party guys

Word Count: 3k

Note: Quarantine can be inspiring lol

- 

You don’t know you’re smiling, but it’s there. A tiny little smile lingering on your face as you watch the man in your kitchen from your crummy two-seater couch that barely fits into your living room.

It’s not a sight you’ll ever get used to seeing, you think, Namjoon with his designer suits and perfectly swept back hair, fumbling around in the drawers. He was wearing that new Dior shirt you had picked out for him last week.

When he’d came in to your dingy apartment, he’d removed his (probably very expensive) cufflinks and tossed them in your countertop dish.

“You shouldn’t treat your things so carelessly,” you chastised, taking them from the dish and moving them somewhere safer. Even in the cheap incandescent light, the large stones twinkle softly and you wondered how much they cost.

“They’re very pretty.”

‘What?” He’d glanced up briefly from his phone to see what you were holding. “Oh you like those? I can send them to my jeweler and get them set into earrings for you if you want.”

You nearly drop the cufflinks.

-

When he stands he bumps his head on an open cabinet.

He’s a bit befuddled for a moment and sends the cabinet door a look, but it quickly melts into a grin when he hears you giggle.

“Hey, don’t laugh. I’m six foot and this kitchen is literally made for someone who’s like five-nothing.”

God, you wanted to take a swim in those dimples.

You get off the couch and walk over, opening the second drawer to pull out a whisk and offer it to him.

“You’re the one who wanted to come to the dump which is my apartment, Joon.” It’s a matter-of-fact tone, but you can’t hide the twinkle in your eyes.

“I wanted to make you that dalgona coffee thing. But I don't have instant coffee at home. I didn’t know if it works with normal espresso.”

“You’re telling me you have a thirteen thousand dollar coffee machine at your place, and no instant coffee.”

Namjoon makes a face. “Instant coffee tastes like dishwater.”

You grab the bottle of instant coffee and shove it in his face.

“I love it.”

Namjoon shakes his head and grabs the glass jar from you, delivering a swift peck on your cheek.

“I love you.”

You blush, one hand going up to cup your face. To hell with butterflies in your stomach, this man truly gave the zoo a run for its money.

-

You’d met him while waitressing at one of those fancy fundraiser gala dinners. It paid the best, and between struggling to feed yourself and those overdue college bills, you were ready to swallow your pride and deal with the pompous crowd for a little while.

Namjoon had always thought it was a blessing he’d survived thirty three years not having broken a bone (well, he’s caused other people to break their bones, but that doesn’t count.) But that night, accidentally spilling his wine on you was the one time Namjoon ever felt truly lucky that he was a clumsy oaf.

You looked like a little deer, flustered and apologising, reaching for the nearest stack of napkins to fuss over the cuff of his jacket, when he should have been the one apologising to you. The two of you at a later point have recounted this first meeting and you still can’t believe he finds it hilarious that you were horrified, on the verge of tears because you thought he’d expect you to pay for his jacket.

Though you later understand why he’d find that funny. One thing more genuinely beautiful than his face was Namjoon’s heart. He’d insisted he book you a cab home (after understanding you didn’t have a spare shirt), and settled with your manager that you’d be taking the rest of the night off.

The next day he caught you by surprise, showing up on your doorstep in a cream cable knit sweater, and a black gift box adorned with a white camellia in hand (half out of apology, but also because he needed an excuse to see you). You’d opened the door, let out a strangled squeak and promptly slammed the door shut in his face. Later, he did get invited in when you didn’t so closely resemble a drenched version of Dobby, but it was unlikely you’d ever forget the horror of that moment.

-

Of course at first, your relationship was merely transactional - he paid you for your company, mostly at more of these fancy galas where he needed someone to distract the crowd while he really talked shop with the important people, and you.. well who were you, a mere mortal, to say no to that? It would get your bills paid, put food on the table, and Namjoon was kind, intelligent and not bad to look at.

Okay fine, he was great to look at.

Sure he’d been divorced once, but everyone has skeletons in their closets, right? Namjoon’s closet was three times the size of your apartment so there’d be plenty space to hide them. (Later, much later, you also become privy to the information that the guy could fuck you six ways from Sunday, but that’s besides the point… you think.)

-

After the parties on the way home you’d started to linger in his car. He’d walk you up the stairs of your dingy apartment complex. You hold hands, his large one dwarfing yours as the both of you walk as slowly as possible up the entire ten flights.

It was dangerous for you to walk alone, he said, but really, Namjoon wanted to talk to you a little while longer. You were nothing like he’d ever known. You were quiet. Listening. But really listening, not just waiting for your turn to talk. So different to the ditzy socialites in his circle who wanted only to talk about themselves.

Its not long before you're inviting him in for coffee - he drank your dishwater coffee quietly for the next three months before he suggested going to his place where the ‘real coffee’ was.

You fell fast, and you fell hard.

-

Not that you didn’t have your share of heated romances with people your age, but none of them really got you, listened to you as intently as he did when you rambled on about the inequality and hegemony of this world. You chalk it up to the fact that you’ve always been more mature than others - a result of circumstance. Not by choice, really, but it was what it was.

Namjoon always carried an air of introspection around him. Not intentionally. Many people took that for pride, but you realised quickly it was quiet confidence. He liked to listen and learn and observe.

On your coffee nights he begins to give you a glimpse of who he really is. Undoubtedly, he’s a Kim. That cool, nonchalant disposition was his battle armor. But beneath that you come to see the man who when you ask him about the telescope in the corner of his study, tells you he still entertains his childhood dream of being an astronaut. That on clear nights he likes to read Carl Sagan and look at the stars, wondering about the kind of lives they lead.

You learn he’s a great big klutz that breaks the handles off his cabinets ‘by accident’. You see the soft side that sometimes likes to read children’s books because ‘some of the best lessons in life are simple and humble ones’. And eventually the side that suddenly pulls you in closer in his sleep to his chest on rainy nights because he hates thunder. You always wake because you’re a light sleeper, but you’re glad you are, reaching up to smooth the furrow between his brows gently with a thumb before cuddling deeper into his embrace.

It’s also the first time he smiled at you. It was the week before his birthday, you’d given him a little resin keychain with little pressed wildflowers. He’d gone silent for quite a while and you didn’t know if he hated it or loved it.

“It’s a keychain.”

“Yeah.. It’s not much but I made it in a resin art workshop I went to, you have everything already and I hadn’t any idea what I could afford that you’d need-“

“You made this?” He interrupts, looking up at you.

You feel your gut shrivel. Jesus Christ. He hates it.

Immediately you move toward him to remove your offending gift. You were a Tiny Bit Hurt, but what had you been expecting with a cheap thing like that?

“If you don’t like it, it’s okay. You don’t have to use it! I just thought because you call me your little wildflower you’d like - “

You can’t finish your sentence because your face is smushed into Namjoon’s (very nice, very broad) chest as he pulls you into a crushing hug.

Horror takes over slightly and you struggle to move away. “Namjoon, I’m wearing so much foundation, and you’re in a cream Givenchy sweater - “

“I love it.”

You stop struggling. His warm breath tickles your ear, one large hand cradling the back of your head.

“You do?”

“I do. I love that you put in all this effort. You are my little wildflower. Always blooming in surprising places.’

You hug him back, nuzzling into his scent. The Givenchy sweater could wait. There was always drycleaning.

“And now I’ll have something to remind me of you wherever I go.”

When he pulls back to look at you he’s sporting not just one of those polite half smiles, but a full on beaming grin that make his eyes into smiling crescents. You get to see how deep his dimples actually are.

You swooned so hard you thought you might’ve given yourself an aneurysm.

-

Well, fast forward a year and here you are.

Watching the owner of a global business conglomerate make you some silly whipped coffee drink in the kitchen of your tiny apartment with water stains on the wallpaper, his diamond cufflinks sitting in a repurposed butter spread tray that held coins and keys on your countertop.

Watching your klutz boyfriends, ad he jerks the whisk at an odd angle and gets foamy coffee splattered all over the front of his white shirt.

'Joon, that’s Dior.” Your face crumples. Grabbing a towel out of the drawer, you wet it and try to dab the coffee stains off. That shirt was so expensive, it could pay your rent for three months.

You knew and had come to terms with the fact that money would always worry him far, far less than it worried you, but seeing such an expensive item go to waste would never stop making you a little bit unhappy. Well, there was more to it, but you shoved those thoughts away.

Namjoon sets the bowl down on the counter.

“It’s okay, love. I’ll just get a new one if the stains don't come off.”

You scrub harder.

After a silent moment, Namjoon puts his hands over yours to still them. “It’s not just about the shirt, is it?”

He waits for you, like he always does because he knows you need a little time. He’d wormed his way into the deepest parts of your heart, but there would always be a final little fence you had to decide to take down. He was okay with that.

After a minute, you nod. Gently, he takes the dishcloth from you and sets it aside so he can hold your hands properly. Times like these he just wants to hug you and hope that would be enough to protect you from the world. You taught him that money, as much as it solved problems, was not everything.

He puts a finger under your chin and tips it up so he can see your face.

“I just..”

“Go on.” He encourages.

“I know we’ve been through this before, but I can’t help but feel like I’m a… I’m a burden.”

Funny, considering how you two started out. The sugar baby/parent lifestyle just wasn’t for you. You were a Bad Ass Bitch who didn't need anyone, and it was important to stay on brand.

“Like, I keep being on the receiving end and sometimes I just feel like I can’t do anything for you. You spend so much money on me. The other day after we went shopping you bought me such lovely fruits to stock my fridge, and even got me a new heater for my room when it’s cold, and now you’re making me coffee because I sent you that post on Instagram and I just….

“If you didn’t have to come to my stupid old apartment you shirt would still be clean and I …“ You gesture vaguely at him and then at yourself.

“You give me so much. And well, I’m… just me.” You say finally.

Namjoon’s just been listening as you ramble, face unreadable. He;s got his business face on and you can’t tell if he’s angry with you or not.

“So you feel like you can’t do anything for me.”

You nod.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding the topic every time I ask you to move in with me?”

You nod again.

“Look, _____. I want you to listen to me. Like really listen.” His hands move to cup your face, eyes now staring intently into yours.

“You give me something in this world no amount of money can buy. You make me feel whole. You make me feel excited that I get to do life’s most mundane things with you. Even if it involves drinking dishwater coffee.”

That last part gets a small smile out of you, so he knows you’re in the clear.

“I know you’re not used to receiving nice things, because the world hasn’t given you much of it. I hate that. What I do for you, I do with my whole heart. I will continue to want to do these things for you for as long as you’ll let me.

“And maybe if I keep doing them one day you will see how everything, everything I do for you pales terribly in comparison to what you give to me by just existing.”

You’re so overwhelmed with emotion so you just respond lamely “o..okay.”

In your head, your two braincells clap enthusiastically as they crown you honorary president of the Idiot Club.

Namjoon sighs and rests his hands on the countertop on either side of you so he can look at you eye to eye. You look so pretty like this, he thinks. Eyes vulnerable and lips soft, just like you should be. He hates the world for treating you so cruelly.

“And for the record, I insist on spending time here I noticed you’re more… yourself than at my place. I want you to feel comfortable.”

“That’s not true.” You raise your chin petulantly, because you’re slightly prideful that way and don't want to acknowledge that Namjoon sees through you clear as day.

“Don’t argue with me.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes fractionally, his gaze darkening, and suddenly you’re very aware that you’re caged in. Not that you were complaining but was it suddenly really hot in here?

“I’m not arguing.”

“Yes you are." He's lowered his voice and its taken on a huskier tone. 

“You know that everything I do, I do out of love for you. And I will damn well put up with your apartment with no complaints if it means you will feel more at ease.”

This man was going to give you whiplash with the way he made the most loving words sound like filth.

You lower your gaze, just the way you know he likes, and look up at him through your lashes. Two could play that game. You see a spark ignite in his eyes.

“I know.”

“You know, what?”

“I know, sir.”

“Good. Now why don’t I finish making you that coffee, and then we can go back to my place and we’ll see what you really know.”

With that, he releases you to get the milk from the fridge, and you spin around to place one hand on the countertop and one hand over your chest. You suck in a breath you didn’t know you were holding. A few seconds longer and you’d have -

A sharp cracking noise from behind you quickly sweeps any indecent thoughts clean out of your mind.

You turn to find Namjoon looking at you with an incredibly apologetic expression, holding a black piece of plastic which what seems to be -

“Did you break the handle off my fridge?”

-

Three days later he’s sporting the same apologetic expression, the only difference is that you two are separated by a towering, stainless steel monstrosity that now sits in the middle of your living room, leaving you two to converse by having to look around the sides of it.

“I’m sorry, ___. I didn’t know it’d be this big.”

“That’s what she said.”

You peer around the corner with a cheeky grin. He gives you a look that’s half withering and half amused. “Mature.”

Reassessing the appliance in front of you, you throw your hands up in the air.

“For the love of sweet god, Namjoon. This fridge is ridiculous. I’m not feeding the entire village. You’ve seen my apartment, how did you think this was going to work?!”

“I dont know, okay? I just called my home decor guys and told them to send you the same fridge I have!”

You sigh heavily and shut your eyes. The man was so intelligent, but days like this you wonder if sometimes his brain took unpaid leave.

“My house is literally a third the size of your closet.”

If this wasn’t your house you might have found it a little bit funny. But it is your house.

You wait, but there’s just silence from his end, so you continue.

“What do you expect me to do with this monstrosity? Take a fucking winter holiday in it?! We can’t even -“ you kick the sofa for emphasis.

Pausing because he’s still unusually quiet, you stretch to look around the fridge again. He’s on his phone, tapping away in furious concentration.

“What are you doing?”

“Give me a minute.”

Oh no.

“What are you doing.”

“Relax, my love, I’m fixing the problem.” He waves you off nonchalantly. “Give me a minute.”

“Are you calling the delivery men to take this back?”

There is a genuinely confused look on his face when he looks up.

“What? No. Don’t be silly. I’m texting my real estate agents. They’re getting you a new house so this fridge will fit.”

[g-idlescenarios]

(g)-idle: First Kisses ~

anon request:  OMG this is the kind of blog this world needed ;;; Could I request lil first kiss imagines with each of them? 💕

Soyeon

“Come to this party with me - you can meet the members officially!” Her voice turned cutesy, trying to persuade you into coming to a Cube Christmas Party.  “I don’t know, I’m not an idol or a trainee... would they let me in?” “Don’t make excuses babe, I’ve got a plus one! I’ll pick you up at 7.”  Reluctantly, you got dressed and did your make-up.  When Soyeon arrived, she wasn’t expecting you to look so beautiful.  It shocks her every time.  You explained your nerves about meeting the other members and her friends from the company.  “Please don’t be nervous - I’ve told them so much about you that they basically know you already.”  Meeting each member was an absolute breeze, that it completely washed away the nervousness you felt this afternoon.  You found yourself laughing and joking with them in no time.  You were so distracted, that you failed to notice Soyeon staring at you with such heart eyes.  She hadn’t realized how nervous she was too for you to meet the members.  It was important for you guys to get along, even though she knew you would.  So this is love, she thought.  After letting you meet the members, she grabbed your hand and pulled you to go dance with her. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You giggle, enjoying the music and her body meshed against yours.  Instead of answering, her right hand snakes up your body to hold your cheek, and kisses you softly.  The kiss lasts for a couple seconds, before you pull away with a smile. “I’m glad you came tonight,” she smiled. “That makes two of us,” you grin, pulling her closer to do it again.

Miyeon

Miyeon and you had made plans to go on a picnic this afternoon, but neither of you were sure if this is a date.  “IT’S A DATE!” The members had told her over and over again; yes, her crush, you, also had a crush on her.  You two were the only ones that couldn’t see it.  You decided to meet at the Han River, since she’s been wanting to show you one of her favourite places in Seoul.  “I came here a lot when I was a trainee, isn’t is calming?”  She asked you as you both set up the food. “Thanks for bringing me here, it’s so lovely.”  You two continued to eat, talk, laugh, and slowly but surely move closer and closer to each other on the blanket.  A small scooch here, a slight shuffle there, and somehow your legs were touching.  Both of you tried to subtly display some sort of affection to figure out what this was - you’d touch her thigh, she’d tuck a strand of hair out of your face.  Your heart was pumping and her hands were clammy.  I should make a move soon, she thought, before I talk myself out of it.  “I have a surprise for you,” she smiled, “close your eyes.” You did, and she quietly reached into her bag to pull out cupcakes - your favourite flavour.  The smile on your face made it worth every penny.  “Oh wait, you’ve got a little something on your lips...” A bit of icing rested on the corner of your mouth. “I’ll get it.” Without thinking, she leaned over to hold your chin, and was suddenly kissing you.  It was short and quick, and you both pulled away in shock.  You two couldn’t look away as a shy “I’m sorry,” came from her lips.  “Are you sure you got all of it? I think I still feel some...” you smirk, as she gets the hint to kiss you again.  FINALLY, someone made a move.

Minnie 

Your girlfriend and you had spent all of December 31st looking for smoking hot, bomb-ass dresses to wear to the New Year’s Eve party your friend was hosting at their place the next day.  “What about this one?” “Oh, we need one with more glitter!”  A shopping date was something you did regularly, but today you both felt an exciting jolt of energy that only comes from the New Year. “This will be our last date and first date of 2019!” You said in passing while searching threw the racks, but the comment stuck with Minnie.  She had an idea!  Fast forward to the party, you both meet up early to get ready.  “Are you okay Minnie, you seem a bit nervous?” You ask as the two of you do your make-up in the mirror. “I’m fine!”  At the party, you both dance and eat and sing, and get slightly tipsy. Minnie watched you from across the room dance with your friend, and couldn’t help but feel a little envy... you were here with her, weren’t you?  As she walked over to you, people began to count down.  Neither of you had realized that it was so close to midnight, and your head snapped up in surprise, quickly scanning the party for your girlfriend.  She walks quicker towards you and you match her pace. 10, 9, 8!  “Babe,” she says a little breathless. 7, 6, 5! “Minnie, I-” 4, 3, 2! Before you can finish the clock strikes 12, and Minnie pulls you close to her.  She pushes her lips on yours with a bit of force, one filled with passion.  You kiss for what seems like minutes, making out in the middle of the dance floor.  As you both break the kiss, breathless, the celebration seems to fade into the background, the only thing you can see is Minnie; her lips red and swollen from you. “Happy New Year,” you whisper, resting you forehead against hers. “Happy New Year, baby.”

Soojin

“Ugh!” An aggravated huff comes from across the studio, where your crush Soojin monitors her dance on her phone.  “I can’t seem to get these steps,” she sighs, making her way over to you on the couch.  “You don’t look that bad to me,” you try to keep calm as she sits right next to you, your thighs touching.  “That’s because you’re not a dancer, you loser.” She often teases you like this, making fun of you in a playful way.  But this time you weren’t gonna take it... “Fine then. Teach me it so I can critic you properly.”  Soojin’s eyes snap open, and a chuckle escapes her mouth.  “Oh please, that would take eons.” “I’m serious!” you exclaim, “they always say the best way to get something is to teach it to others... I will be ‘others’ tonight. C’mon, get up!” She laughs from the couch as you take off your sweater and begin to wiggle around, stretching out your limbs. “Hm. Fine... but only because I think this will be a disaster.”  Slowly but surely, Soojin teaches you the choreography.  And you’re both pleasantly surprised when you’re not half bad.  Most of the night is spent giggling and mocking you.  “No, here,” Soojin stands against your back as she guides your arm around your head.  You thanked God that the dancing explained your pounding heart.  The turn was the hardest part of the routine, and when trying to follow along to the music, your clumsy ass trips over your own feet. “Soojin!” You call out, before she attempts to catch you... but you both end up going down together.  Your laughter fills the room as she falls on top of you. “Ugh, Y/N!” She whines, looking down at you.  You looked so cute under her, with that stupid smile of yours on your face.  You both looked into each other’s eyes for a moment too long, and the butterflies in your stomach grow.  “Sorry,” you mutter quietly.  In response, Soojin dips down, hovering her lips over yours.  “That’s okay.”  The kiss was long and drawn out, conveying that she was having a great time teaching you... even if you were a klutz.  

Yuqi

"We’re going to the carnival tonight! Get ready!” You bounced into the girls’ dorm, as your girlfriend let you in.  “Tonight?” “Tonight!”  After a little pep talk, you got Yuqi into a cab and on your way to the carnival.  “I haven’t been to one of those since I was young!” “I don’t think I’ve ever been to one before,” she admits once you get there. WHAT!? “Alright Miss Song - you’re going to get the entire carnival experience!”  You take her to get some food truck snacks, to the fun fair booths, and carnival games.  At some point, she wins you a heart shaped plushy, and you both buy fun animal-themed head bands.  As the sun begins to go down, you drag her towards the Ferris wheel.  “This is a must! Especially at sunset, you can see the city from up there.” In line, you recount stories from your childhood about you and your friends going together.  She admires you from behind, a smile spreading across her face as she listens to you.  “Alright, the next two please!” The worker calls to you guys, and Yuqi and you step into the basket hand-in-hand.  As you begin to creep up the wheel, Yuqi notices that you’ve become visibly more tense.  “Babe, what’s wrong - you’re afraid of heights!” She remembers quickly, throwing her arm around your shoulder. “Yeah, but you’re not... I want you to see the view from up here!”  “You’re unbelievable,” she smiles, pulling you closer to her chest.  “Close your eyes, and I’ll tell you when we can see the city.”  After a couple minutes, you hear her ask you to open your eyes.  And as you promised, the view was beautiful.  “Wow,” she sighs, holding you close. “Isn’t it nice?” You smile.  She turns to you, and smirks: “I know something prettier...” And before you can answer, she’s kissing you.  Her touch is tender and gentle, the peck ending almost too soon for both of you.  “Now you’ve got another carnival memory to tell your friends,” she laughs. 

Shuhua

"That kiss is so completely un-real-istic!” You place emphasis on the last word.  “What do you mean, it’s romantic!” Shuhua laughs at your disdain.  You had never seen any of the Spider-man movies, and Shuhua wasn’t gonna have that.  At the scene of the famous upside-down kiss, you both laughed and argued about whether or not that would be satisfying and worth the effort.  “Like that cannot be comfortable, look at the angle of his neck! He’s bloody hanging from the sky!”  You suddenly position yourself so that your head is hanging off the edge of the couch, with your feet up in the air.  “Look at this Shuhua, my freaking head already hurts, how did they even do this.”  As you groan on and on, Shuhua finds herself falling for you all over again.  This crush of hers was getting to an unbearable point.  Watching you rant was something she always found entertaining, but it was never about something she’d dreamed about before.  If you so wanted to disprove this kiss scene, fine, she’d play along.  “They have to like, break their necks Shuhua, ouch.”  She moved herself to the floor, so that she could be face to face with you.  “Let’s try it then.”  Her hands went to your cheeks, and she kissed your lips.  A small gasp left your mouth, which she only took as more encouragement to hold the kiss as long as she could.  After a moment, she pulls away, and smiles down at you.  “I think that worked pretty well, what do you think?” You slowly stutter your words, not sure what to say. “If Peter felt at all the way I feel about you, I’d say any position would make a kiss perfect.” You smile shyly as she helps you sit up.  “Wanna try again?”  The movie is soon forgotten, replaced with kisses and snuggles. 

I hope you like this anon, thanks for the support xx.