#I go to the kitchen. to nibble on mothers croissant

[daincrediblegg]

WHY DO BARISTAS LOVE ACTUALLY GIVING ME FREE SHIT GIRL OH MY GOD

[s-and-n-writes]

stolen smiles and little black lies

crimson and bluebell: part one 

summary: 

Marinette Rossi is tired of everything: from Lila's constant berating and Madame Rossi's preferential care of her 'angel-like' daughter, to how everyone at school (even Alya) seems to believe her evil stepsister over her.

It's like she's Cinderella, except without the fairy godmother and the happy ending. She doesn't even have a prince.

Or so she thinks.

Between the appearance of a new boy who seems to have captured her heart, and a gala run by her fashion idol Gabriel Agreste, Marinette hopes for an escape the constant ignorance, workload, and bullying she endures, and get a blissful life of her own.

With the help of one tiny god and a meow-velous partner, she might finally get a chance, but not everything is that simple.

They say ladybugs are lucky, so will being the elusive Ladybug bring Marinette the luck she oh-so-desperately needs?

quick links: 

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a/n: first chapter’s up! i hope you guys like it! if you wanna be part of the taglist for this, shoot me a message! :) 

It’s dawn when Marinette’s alarm rings.

The sun peaks through the attic window, frail rays treacherously passing through the glass as Marinette hits snooze for the third time.

She’s late, as usual, but that’s no surprise. 

By the time the sky swells with pink, and the silver stars littering the morning sky fade, Marinette’s alarm has gone off a fourth time, the shrill ringing and flashing salmon-red of the numbers cutting through the silence of the morning, as the girl in question finally wakes.

The pink sky changes into the warm undertones of peach and the rising sun peaks further out from the mountains when Marinette is ready. She ties back her midnight-blue locks of hair into twin tails on either side of her head with the two once-red bands she’d once found discarded in front of Lie-La Lila’s room. 

Lost, forgotten, discarded.

The words seem to sum her up perfectly. 

She heads down to the kitchen just as the peach sky cools into blue, the sun rising overhead to begin the new day, and she smiles as she gazes for a minute down the hallway window to the cobblestone streets below. 

The grin on her face quickly shifts into a frown once she heads into the kitchen.

Fortunately, preparation for breakfast finishes up quicker than usual, and the lovely smell of fresh-baked croissants waft through the house. Marinette takes this time to glance at her phone, a well treasured gift after months of working at the bakery. The phone is in no way one of the best, and certainly can’t compare to Chloe’s, but Marinette is happy with it, so the cracked screen and the faded case are overlooked.

It must be the croissants that make Madame Rossi to come downstairs, dark bags fresh under her eyes. Marinette feels sorry for her, knowing her long days and longer nights at the embassy, so she merely smiles as Madame Rossi sits into one of the dining room chairs, slumping gracefully on the cool-white tabletop. 

The embassy job pays well, though, and the house they are in proves that.

“Morning Madame,” Marinette says, pushing towards Madame Rossi a croissant laid delicately onto the new white plates. 

Lila’s mother is certainly her favorite Rossi, since Lila has some...tendencies that Marinette doesn’t like. Especially when they’re being used towards her, as they often are.

But even if Madame Rossi was the most tolerable of the Rossi family, Marinette knows that she has flaws. 

Madame tilts her head as she glances at the croissant, and then at Marinette, accepting the plate with a tired smile. 

“Good morning Marinette,” she says, nibbling gently on the croissant. “Have you seen Lila yet?”

Marinette bites her lip in frustration at the woman’s blatant love of her daughter. If Madame Rossi had truly wanted to see it, she would’ve found the holes in Lila’s fake personality years ago. 

 “N-no Madame,” she stutters. The topic of Lila always seems to make Marinette nervous, since the girl in question could be listening from anywhere. 

And since Marinette has had many an experience with calling Lila out, usually ending with purple-ish bruises covering inches of her skin, she does not want to make the same mistake again.

But it’s then that Lila appears in the living room, fake smile on par with the rest of her demeanor and carrying a small brown bag. Marinette notices how Madame Rossi immediately brightens: her skin glows, her eyes happily crinkle at the edges, and a smile replaces her forlorn frown.

It’s almost enough to make Marinette jealous. Lila has someone to lean on, someone who loves her, when she has no one. 

Marinette’s not blind. She’s seen how Madame Rossi looks when Lila comes into the room, versus her. She knows she’s adopted (as if the hair didn’t give it all away). It’s an unspoken truth in the family, and even if Marinette doesn’t know who her birth parents are, she supposes she’s ok with her family right now. 

Or at least, she hopes she is. 

Because she has no one else. 

Madame Rossi feeds her and clothes her, yes, but deep down Marinette knows she’s a burden; one that has to prove her worth to stay. It doesn’t matter that she works harder, or has a better personality, because Lila will always be painted as an angel in Madame Rossi’s eyes, and Marinette as the weight that the Rossi family shoulders.

Lila, however, is the variable that creates chaos for Marinette, as she spins and weaves lies like an intricate blanket to her advantage. Marinette is a pawn on her chess board, barely surviving as Lila throws obstacle after obstacle at her. After all, Marinette can still count the times Lila has been nice to her on one hand, even if the hand has no fingers.

“Good morning, Mother!” Lila greets, her perfect smile stretching across her face.

But Marinette had been there long enough. She always saw the flaws: the slight twitch in Lila’s eye, the scowl before the smirk, the smirk before the smile.

“Good morning Lila, dear, how are you? Did you get a good night’s rest?” Madame Rossi questions, the concern and genuine love clearly visible in her eyes. 

Marinette refrains from biting her already-bruised lip yet again, and walks towards the kitchen for a well-needed breath of fresh air. 

“I slept well, Mother,” Lila replies from the dining room, voice visibly louder to let Marinette hear, “Well, as well as I could, since Marinette’s snores drifted from the attic,”

“Oh dear,” Madame Rossi responds, turning around briefly to glance at Marinette with a look of despondency.

“I just get so tired when I don’t get my beauty rest. And God knows I need it, what with the insomnia the doctor diagnosed. I already look horrible!” Lila groans, adding in a perfectly timed yawn at the center of her sentence.

Ah yes. Marinette can perfectly remember the fake doctor’s visit, the fake doctor herself, and the fake insomnia Lila created.

“Lila, don’t say that about yourself. You are the most beautiful girl, and the best daughter. Insomnia is merely a setback that you can get over, just like anything else” Madame Rossi fondly says, “and as for your tiredness, perhaps you can take a nap after school today. Marinette can do your chores,”

Once again, Madame Rossi has perfectly catered to Lila’s needs, unknowingly belittling Marinette. After all, Lila is the real master around the Rossi household, dragging all others around like puppets on strings.

“Marinette, are you okay with that?” Lila questions, her eyes full of concern. If Marinette was new around the house, she might’ve allowed herself to believe her. But Marinette is not new; she’s been here for years, and she knows Lila too well. Her slightly narrowed hershey brown eyes and almost-sympathetic furrowed brows scream ‘do it or else!’, an obvious indicator that she has to agree.

Otherwise, things won’t end well...

“Yes, that is perfectly fine Lila, um, please go upstairs and rest,” Marinette says, adding on an ‘after breakfast of course’ after Lila subtly glares at her (likely thinking it’s a ploy to shoo her away). 

Lila smiles, and takes a seat at the large dinner table, crossing her legs and placing her hands over her lap. 

“Wonderful! Thank you Mother!” she smiles. “Now Marinette, where is my croissant?”

“Ah, uh, right here,” Marinette says, avoiding eye contact as she passes the croissant to Lila. Lila smirks in reply, and glances at her mother.

“So…” Lila pauses, considering how to proceed with small-talk, “how’s the er-the embassy?” 

“Doing well!” Madame Rossi smiles. “I actually have an event next week that I’d love for you girls to come to!” 

“Mom, I’m not quite sure I’m free…” Lila frowns. “But go ahead, tell me what it is,”

Marinette steps into the kitchen, listening intently as she brews a pot of coffee. The hot liquid nearly burns the pads of her fingers as she pours it into three cups, but it’s nothing she hasn’t felt before.

“Ah, well, there’s a gala that Gabriel Agreste is hosting,” Madame Rossi explains, taking a bite of her croissant.

“Gabriel Agreste, right?” Lila smirks, eyes training on Marinette, “I assume this is for, perhaps, new fashion designers? Maybe he wants to, um, I don’t know, scope out an intern?” 

The bluenette on the other side of the room twitches as she rubs her hands together, barely containing her excitement.

“Yes!” Madame Rossi grins, “You’re so smart Lila. Maybe we should move you up a grade-”

“Er-um, when would this be, um Madame?” Marinette cuts in. 

Madame Rossi raises an eyebrow. “Hold on Marinette. I’m not quite done explaining yet. No need to get so impatient,” 

“Yea,” Lila shrills evilly, glancing between her mother and her so-called sister as she quickly formulates a plan, “Hold on, Marinette. She’s just getting started,” 

There’s a double meaning behind Lila’s words, like the sharp edge of a sword being pressed against Marinette’s neck, quickly drawing out blood the color of cherry-red roses. It’s a warning, that Lila is the one just getting started, not Madame Rossi. 

Marinette chooses to shrink back, and stay silent in the moment, fear of Lila winning over her genuine excitement. 

Like always.

She’s used to it though. It’s ok.

Madame Rossi ignores Marinette’s suddenly startled breathing, and continues with her explanation. 

“The embassy has to get involved because this could make headlines, since Monsieur Agreste invited many of the world’s most famous fashion designers. If France gains tourists because of this, it could boost our economy,” Madame Rossi says as Marinette brings a pot of coffee to her. 

“That’s so exciting Mom!” Lila (fake) smiles. 

“I’m glad you think so!” Madame Rossi replies, “We have to host a two day program welcoming all of these people to Paris. Monsieur Agreste himself will be there! There’s, um, there’s a welcoming ceremony, then a formal dinner, and finally, oh uh, finally… actually I’ll get back to you on the last thing,”

“No prob!” Lila smiles. Marinette rolls her eyes in retaliation before Lila can see. 

“Anyways, I wanted to invite you girls! So many people are bringing their children. The head of the embassy’s bringing her daughter, my boss and her daughter and her son are coming, not to mention Monsieur Agreste’s son, and I thought-” 

“Hold on,” Lila interrupts. “Adrien Agreste will be there? THE ADRIEN AGRESTE?!”

“Yes, he will be,” Madame Rossi laughs, “Eager, are you?” 

“Er-no, he, well, he’s just, uh, really popular you know? It could really boost my career, in um, fashion designing,” Lila covers, smoothly altering her voice to sound desperate and longing.

“You want to be a fashion designer?” Madame Rossi smiles, genuine tears in her eyes. She wipes them away with the back of her hand and sighs, “You’ve never told me, darling!” 

“Never came up!” Lila laughs uneasily, paling as she clenches her fists to veil the irritation hidden inside her. 

Marinette’s lip has turned pale, a gash running through the side that she continues to bite. It’s a reserve for all her anger, mainly at Lila. She’d have to steal some of Alya’s preppy-red lipstick when she gets to school, to cover up the bruise.

“Lila, um, you don’t mind me asking, but who is Adrien Agreste?” Marinette cuts in, failing to follow the conversation. 

Lila doesn’t have to reply, since her mocking grin answers for her, and so does Madame Rossi. 

“Didn’t you want to be a designer, like Lila?” she asks, frowning disapprovingly. 

“I-uh, yes,” Marinette stumbles, picking at the edge of her shirt. It’s a new one that she just made over the weekend, one she can’t wait to show to Alya, but by how often she picks at the seams, the dress will dissolve into thin lines of string before school even starts. She walks over to the dining table and sits down across from Madame Rossi.

“Then you should know,” Madame Rossi says, pointing her nose upwards with a raised eyebrow. It’s often like this: the morning starts out with a kinder Madame Rossi, and as the day goes on, she continues to pile disapproving stares and hidden anger on her lesser daughter: Marinette. 

“Anyway, the whole program is next weekend, and I’d love for you both to come!” Madame Rossi says, clasping her anticipatingly. 

“Of course Mom. I’ll definitely support you. It’s a shame that Marinette can’t come though,” Lila pouts. 

Marinette’s fists both clench, her eyes widening at the prospect to miss a meeting with the famous fashion designer himself, “I-uh-” 

“Marinette, is this true?” Madame Rossi asks, raising a slight eyebrow, “Why?” 

“Some sort of field trip for art club, I think,” Lila cuts in, smiling sweetly at Marinette, “Right Marinette?” 

Lila throws a pointed look at the girl, eyes calculatingly tracing across her face. It was another warning, far more powerful than the last, a signal that if Marinette doesn’t follow, there will be consequences. 

But Marinette is tired; tired of the constant warnings, tired of the beratings, tired of the girl she doesn’t want to call her sister, tired of the woman who keeps favorites, tired of… well, everything. 

“Sorry, n-no,” Marinette stutters quietly.

“What?” Lila smiles, turning to raise an eyebrow at Marinette. Lila’s aura of masked evil radiates against her, pushing, pulling, threatening, hurti-

“I’m saying no,” Marinette , hidden confidence rising to the surface like shiny, opaque bubbles. “I don’t have an art club field trip. I’m free,”

If Lila snarls, Madame Rossi doesn’t notice, instead choosing to take a sip of her coffee and dusting her hands gently on her royal-blue blouse. 

“Great!” she smiles, “I’ll tell them that both of you are coming,” 

Unusual silence falls onto the dining room, broken only by Madame Rossi’s quiet humming. It’s atypical in only the fact that Lila never spares a moment by not talking to her mother; she often decides to leave or escape in a different way. 

The tension is thick, and every moment Madame Rossi looks away is another one that Lila uses to visually throw daggers at Marinette.

But Madame Rossi leaves before she recognizes the obvious shift of the room, pushing dishes in the sink and heading out the door with only a feeble au revoir! 

“Au revoir, Mother!” Lila calls back, smoke nearly coming out of her ears as she desperately tried to keep the anger out of her voice. 

Marinette’s confidence dissipates quickly as she regains her shyness and vulnerability. It’s a shame because it’s at that moment that Lila attacks.

“Listen, you filthy scum of a sister,” Lila sneers, clenching her fists. Marinette struggles to not shiver, to not show the telltale signs of fear.

It seems, however, that Lila already knows. 

“If it weren’t for my amazing ability to somehow tolerate you, not to mention my mother’s strange liking of you, you’d be gone, do you understand?” Lila hurls at Marinette. Marinette, despite her will to not break, flinches.

Lila smiles cruelly. “That’s better, Mari-brat,” 

She studies Marinette’s features. “Alright, fine. You can come to the whole embassy fiasco,”

With carefully timed smirk overtaking her features, Lila leans in close, inches away from Marinette. “But stay away from Adrien. He’s mine,” 

Lila backs away from the table, slamming her chair into it and cracking the edges of glass. Lila’s glass mug full of coffee lands on the floor, quickly  shattering into a million different pieces as the contents inside stain the carpet a less-than-beautiful shade of walnut brown. 

Marinette gasps, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth afterwards, and observing the damage.

“But don’t think I’ve gone soft,” Lila grins, “I guess you’ll be the one that tells Mother about how you tragically destroyed her glass table, and her carpet!”

Marinette knows that Madame Rossi will be furious. Even if the table isn’t as tragically destroyed as Lila had said, the coffee spill is sure to anger her. 

If she’s really mad, she might ground Marinette into staying at home the days that they went to the embassy, and while Lila frolicked with her idols, Marinette would be at home. 

But that’s not the highlight of it all. Marinette had almost thought that Lila was finally changing for the better. 

Almost. 

“Well, I’m off to school!” Lila says, continuing to smirk. “Have fun cleaning up the mess you made!” 

She leaves with a final look at Marinette, slamming the door behind her.

Based on the gleam in Lila’s eye, Marinette’s due for some black and blue sometime soon. 

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a/n: next chapter should come soon! if you liked it, perhaps like this post, or reblog, or comment :) enjoy your day! 

taglist: 

i’ll be tagging the people that i had tagged before, along with a couple others who liked the masterlist for this series. if you don’t want to get tagged, i’m very sorry! just shoot me a private message, and i’ll take you off the tags. if you do want to get tagged, just tell me with a private message or an ask and i’ll add you to the taglist. thank you! 

@reddragonofemeraldflame  @nomiegnome  @18markers @katbab @emmathedestroyer @bluesesameseed @cyborgcandy @karukofox21 @magnificentcrapposts​ @miraculouslylee​

[edourado]

Together, ch vi

Based on a true experience. I might post photo evidence later, if prompted.

Hope this pleases, eases anxiety, and makes you hungry - like it did to me. 

Much love ♥

----------

Frank now made a lot of popcorn. A lot. 

They did their best to establish a rhythm that would help them not lose their mind during quarantine: Frank had his runs on the crack of dawn, Karen would watch many YouTube videos on exercise, yoga, pilates, meditation, hiit, full body workouts, a whole variety. 

The dogs also brought more activities for them. Lady had to be walked, Pooka had to be trained, they both had to be bathed, vaccinated, fed, taken care of. 

Frank was still finding things to tweak around the apartment, Karen spent a lot of time cataloguing hers and Frank’s books, arranging them in alphabetical order, making a list of which she wanted to read and what order she wanted to read them.

Still. Twenty-four hours in an apartment, seven days a week, there was still plenty of time to spare. 

So they watched movies and tv shows and documentaries and YouTube videos about this or that. And Frank always made them popcorn. 

Sometimes they found movies that they really liked, sometimes they would strike up in conversation only a few minutes in, and eat their popcorn while the TV went on, ignored. Sometimes they would fall asleep, sometimes Frank would pin her down on the couch and she would wrap herself around him. 

A lot of variables, one constant: popcorn. 

He would always get a bag of lose kernel, saying that the microwave stuff had a “weird smell”, and would spend a few minutes standing in front of the stove, the dogs sitting eagerly at his feet, until there was a beautiful, amazing smelling bowl of popcorn in his hands, that he would take to the couch, where Karen waited for him, remote control at the ready. 

“This kitchen has never seen so much action before, I swear”, she said one day, while he stood making his popcorn and she dumped cake batter on a pan, ready to take it to the oven. 

Their breakfast came from the bakery at the corner, where they were now regulars. Every day, Frank would buy coffee and something to eat - bread, croissants, bagels, a new item the chef added to the menu. Karen would go and buy donuts, cake, pastries and supplies for her own kitchen experiments.  

Lunch was sometimes ordered in, when they felt like eating sushi, fried chicken, chinese, thai food, something that they were not equipped to make themselves. 

Dinner was, most of the time, the leftovers of lunch. And sometimes it would be popcorn. 

Most of the time, though, they would cook. Karen had a notebook filled with recipes, that she said she got from her mother, who collected recipes from family, neighbors, celebrities, magazines.

“I don’t even know how I have this”, she told him one day. “I definitely don’t remember packing it before I left Vermont, but I did.”

Frank also had a few recipes under his belt, but they weren’t written down. 

And they already had a few favorite of their own, and would go through them depending on their mood, on the weather, on the supplies they had. Some, however, they tried only once, like this thing that looked like something canned, but wasn’t. A gelatinous thing that didn't require any gelatine, savory sort of cake that could be eaten cold or warm, according to Mrs. Page’s notes. Karen tried it one day, and one bite was enough for them to decide they would not be trying it again. 

“It’s not even the taste”, she said, washing the dishes afterwards. “The texture threw me off, what even was that?”

“Maybe you missed something?” Frank suggested, putting the clean dishes away - he never let them just sit on the sink. They had to be immediately properly stored in the cupboard. 

“I triple checked. It was definitely right.”

The lasagna was a success. So was Maria’s pasta, and Frank’s own pancakes. 

He rolled his eyes when she said both Matt and Foggy liked her triple chocolate cookies. 

“Oh, if Matt likes them.”

.:.

They were both lying on the hammock one afternoon, a big bowl of popcorn sitting on Frank’s stomach, the dogs snoozing inside, by the window. 

The popcorn had been intended to go with a movie, but Karen then noticed how nice it was outside, and the color of the sky was beautiful, so they decided to watch the sunset instead. 

She was making brownies, a simple recipe she knew since she was a kid, and the batter had tasted amazing. However, 

“Oh no!” she said, and moved quickly to get out of the hammock and back inside, startling Frank, who had his eyes closed and his arm around her. 

“What?” he asked, sitting up. 

“The brownies”, she said simply, hurrying back inside, and that’s when he smelled it. Burnt.

“Shit!” he heard her say, and tried to peer inside without getting up. 

“What happened?” he asked, spotting her sitting in front of the the open stove, trying to maneuver the pan inside. 

“I don’t know, it just… Overflowed.”

She sounded frustrated. 

“Oh, crap”, she went on. “There was baking powder in the flower, I got the wrong one!”

“Is it all ruined?” he asked. 

She tried to put another pan under the original one, to catch the batter that was spilling, and decided to leave it in the oven for the rest of the remaining time. 

It didn’t smell good. The batter that had fallen into the oven itself burned to a crisp, filling the apartment with a nauseating smell. Frank opened all the windows and Karen sprayed lavender water around. 

When she did take the thing out of the oven, the brownie looked a mess. And she wanted to toss the whole thing, but Frank noticed that the crust looked actually pretty good in the original pan. Trying a piece, he lifted his brows, surprised. 

“It’s still good.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not, try it.” 

And it was. It had spilled, and it was not pretty, but aside from that, it was a very good brownie. 

In the end, she had scraped the spilled parts from the extra pan she had put in the oven, cut the thing in little pieces and transferred it to a different container, throwing the burnt parts into the trash. Frank called her back outside, to resume her place next to him in his hammock, and they finished the popcorn and nibbled on the honest to God very tasty brownie.

“I’ll make another one”, she promised. “With the correct flower, and it’ll look and taste amazing, you’ll see.”

He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes again, glad he didn't have to lie to appease her feelings - something he had been fully prepared to do.

.:.

A few weeks later, after they had stocked their pantry with fresh groceries, he smelled brownies again. Looking over, he saw her sitting in front of the oven, Lady sitting by her side, Poka squeezed between them, his tail lazily going from side to side, watching the oven. 

A few minutes later, and she walked over to him, with a plate full of beautiful, wonderful smelling square pieces of brownie. 

“Told ya”, she said, happily, after he tasted it and assured her that it was very, very good.

Frank smiled, got another piece, and ignored the dogs pleading eyes. 

[profitinaecho]

So You Wanna Spin Ch9

Max skims a hand up Liz’s exposed thigh where her black nightgown rode up in her sleep, smiling as goosebumps erupt over her skin. “Good morning.” His deep voice rumbles as Liz stretches.

“What time is it? You’re already dressed.” Liz remarks, noticing Max is already in crisp jeans and a blue plaid shirt. Liz’s hands flutter around her wild dark mane trying to tame it without a comb.

“9. I wanted to let you sleep. We’re already checked out, you just have to pack.” He watches her wake up fascinated. They always see each other first thing in the morning but they haven’t ever woken up together before.

Liz quickly sits up, flustered, Max’s wandering hand dropping to the bed. They’re running hours behind. “9! Max, we have to be on the road to get to El Paso to check in.”

Max chuckles and rolls her over under him, pecking her nose. “Nobody is going to be hoarding hotel rooms in El Paso in September. Kids are in school, it will be a ghost town. Just like everywhere else we’ve stayed.” Max goes to give her a proper good morning kiss and Liz wiggles out from under him. She’s running and he lets her, because he knows she will make a move on him when she’s comfortable again.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.” It’s an excuse while she processes what happened the night before and they both know it. Max will let her run away- for now.

——————————

“I’m sorry the hotel breakfast was packed up by the time we got down there, Liz.” Max glances over at his partner contrite. “We can pick up anything you want on the way out of town that you want. Oh! Look, that place with the croissants you like.” Max automatically turns on his blinker and heads for the small bakery. Liz had had their chocolate croissant three days that week.

Max pulls into the bakery parking lot as Liz’s personal cell phone rings and she picks it up with a bubbly “Hola!”. Max pantomimes nibbling a croissant and sipping coffee and Liz nods. He smiles at her rapid fire spanish knowing she is talking to her father and slips out of his seat leaving her to talk to him in peace.

When he returns with her coffee that is more cream than coffee and her chocolate chip croissant a few minutes later, Liz is giggling and talking about some telenova called Rubi. He can hear Arturo on the other line insisting that she needs to catch up on it so they can discuss the latest developments on it together. Apparently, something scandalous happened in the newest episode and he can only discuss it with Liz.

Suddenly, Liz hears a wail of aye caramba and a crash in the background at the Crashdown. “Papi, are you ok?” Max glances over at her concerned before merging onto interstate 10 towards El Paso

“It’s just Fernando. He forgot to use a potholder again.” Liz can practically see her father shaking his head in resignation that his employee will just drop pots every now and then. “Is Max there?”

Max sits up straighter as if Arturo can see him and smiles nervously at Liz. “Yes he is. Why?” Liz asks her father suspiciously.

“He's treating you right? Keeping his hands to himself?” Arturo growls on the other end of the phone. He is a short man, but he protects his family ferociously.

“Of course, Papi.” Liz sing songs back to him, in a well trained way from teenagehood that probably saved her boyfriend in high school’s life.

“Have a good trip, my amore” Arturo ends the call after another crash in the kitchen.

“Your dad is going to kill me if he ever finds out I touched you.” Max gulps, moving over a lane to avoid a tumbleweed on the two lane highway.

“He better not. I’m a grown ass woman.” Liz takes a defiant sip of her coffee and unwraps her croissant. She hates it when her father treats her like a baby.

Soon, Max’s personal cell phone rings. His eyes widen comically when his phone begins playing “Bossy” by Kelis and Liz raises an eyebrow at him in question at the bouncy club song. Max asks Liz to answer it since he’s driving and put it on speaker.

“Hello? Detective Evans’ phone” Liz answers Max’s phone after swallowing her mouthful of breakfast quickly, putting him on speaker phone.

“Oh my god, is this Liz?” Bursts an excited female voice. “Don’t worry, this isn’t a booty call. This is his sister, Isobel. He kept talking and talking about you and swearing you were real.”

Liz giggles nervously and Max growls “Isobel!”

“It’s true little brother!” Isobel chirps back at him cheerfully.

“We’re twins and I’m taller than you. So I’m the older sibling…” Max starts, just as they had argued countless times before.

“If you say so. Anyway, did you finally touch her or still jerking it behind closed doors.” They could hear the smile in her voice but nonetheless, Max sputtered.

“Oh my god.” Max blushed from the collar of his shirt to his ears.

“Oh! I finally mastered that hovercrafting technique you walked in on me practicing with Noah, you’ll be glad to know.”

Max gags in response while Isobel laughs delighted at his discomfort in her sex life. “Did you just call to torture me in front of my partner?”

“Of course not. Mom said to tell you to come to dinner next Sunday if you are back by then. You should bring Liz so we can meet her.”

“I’m sure Liz has better things to…” Max offers Liz an out, unsure if he is hoping she will accept or not. On the one hand, he wants to get serious with this woman. On the other, his family is freaking embarrassing.

“I’m free Sunday.” Liz pipes up, listening to the siblings fondly. It makes her miss her sister, Rosa.

“Traitor.” Max mumbles at her.

Isobel laughs delightedly. “Perfect! Just bring yourself. Mom always overcooks and has too much wine.”

“Is there such a thing?” Liz smiles.

“You read my mind! Love you, BABY brother.” Isobel exclaims then hangs up.

The two sit in silence for a moment, before Max breaks it. “So, you’re coming to family dinner.” He sees the sign for Texas approaching up ahead.

“You met my dad. It’s only fair. It doesn’t have to mean anything. We’re colleagues.” Liz twirls her long black hair nervously.

“Right.” Max smirks at her nonchalance.

“Your sister is a lot. Mine was too.” Liz smiles over at Max then jumps at a sudden loud pop. Max curses as the SUV swerves just as they cross the Texas border and eases it to a stop on the shoulder of the road.

“What was that?” Liz looks around panicked for the culprit of the noise.

“Flat tire. It will be ok. We have a spare.” Max leans across the console to squeeze her hand reassuringly then starts unbuttoning his plaid shirt to go out in the peak Texas sun.

“Max, is this really the time?” Liz flushes, watching his nimble fingers undo the buttons, transfixed.

“It’s hot outside, Liz. You’re lucky I’m not stripping down to my boxers.” Max winks at her then tosses her his shirt playfully. Liz only huffs his rain scented shirt a little.

——————————

Liz bites her lip as she watches Max’s arms flex as he finishes tightening the lugnuts on the spare tire on the back right of the cruiser. Max comes up to her open window drenched in sweat carrying the wrench and shoves his head in her window.

“Ohmygodthatfeelssogood.” Max groans when the cool AC hits his face. He gently hands the wrench to Liz then playfully shakes off his sweaty hair in her direction making her squeal at him. “I got the tire put on. We need to stop at the first safe looking hotel we see to stop for the night. I’m not sure the spare will make it all the way to the hotel we were supposed to stop at.”

He gently takes the bottle of water she hands him and goes around to the driver’s side of the cruiser. He waits until an 18 wheeler passes and there is an opening in traffic before opening his door and hopping in quickly. He whips off his sweat soaked white undershirt and tosses it into the backseat, cranking the AC full blast. Liz traces his tattoos with her eyes before being startled by him clearing his throat.

“Elizabeth, my eyes are up here.” Max gestures at his eyes firmly, before breaking into a grin at her contrite expression. “You're always welcome to look at me, Liz.”

Liz curls into herself at the butterflies that erupt in her stomach at his words, looking out the window for a hotel. “There, Max!” She points one long crimson fingernail at the run down but well lit motel off the side of the road.

“Good eye, Liz.” Max agrees, turning on his blinker. It is Friday night and the small motel is across the street from a busy bar but seems to be relatively empty. Finding a room shouldn’t be a problem.

Max puts his plaid shirt back on and buttons it up smiling lopsidedly over at Liz. “Ready?”

At her nod, he meets her around at the hood of the cruiser, placing his palm gently on her lower back to guide her to the front door of the motel. When they reach the front door, he holds it open for her like his mother always taught him to do then follows her to the front desk.

“Welcome to Motel Del Turo, how can I help you?” A rail thin teenage boy with braces asks from the other side of the counter.

“We need two adjoining rooms, please.” Liz crosses her arms and smiles serenely up at the boy.

“Oh. We only have one room. It has a king size bed.” The boy wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “It’s the jalapeño room. VERY spicy.”

“Oh. No, we couldn’t possibly… I’ll sleep in the cruiser. ” Max starts, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t be silly! We’re both adults and I will just end up in your room anyway.” Liz argues, placing her hands on her hips.

“You sure?” Max searches her eyes for any hesitation, although she has ended up in his room a lot lately.

“Positive. I don’t want to sleep in this hotel alone, Max.” Liz looks up at him through her long lashes, biting her lip.

“We’ll take it.” Max decides, sliding the teen his company card.

“You guys need condoms, towels or anything?” The boy nods his head suggestively at Max.

“Just the towels, thank you.” Max signs his name on the receipt feeling like he’s having some sort of out of body experience.

[encontrarvida]

The beginning of my youth (Chapter 1)

Kiiara's home:

Kiiara who is recently passed from high school and going to enter college lives with her mom, dad and younger siblings Ann and Jazz. Her dad works in a bank and her mother owns a flower shop. Ann is in her sophomore year while jazz is in grade eight right now.

It's a pleasant morning and the walls of the bungalow were aflame with flowering bougainvilleas. A lot of hustle-bustle can be heard from downstairs. Jazz and Dad are discussing something downstairs. Mom is preparing breakfast in the kitchen, meanwhile, I'm helping mom with plating the dishes on the table.

"Kiiara go and wake up your sister otherwise she will be late for her school," Ma yelled from the kitchen. I rushed upstairs to wake Ann.

"Ann, wake up you lazy bum," I said trying to take the blanket off her body.

"Let me sleep a little bit more," Ann said turning away from me.

"Oh no, not again," I sighed and jumped on her laying just above her.

"Let go," yelled Ann.

"Only if you will wake up this instant, "

"Fine."

We both came down in the dining area where the whole family was seated by now. A plate full of croissants, omelette, toasts and orange juice were kept on the table.

"Good morning lovelies," dad said grinning our way.

"Good morning dad," we said in unison.

"Who is gonna help me with the plantation of new flowers today?" asked my mom.

I raised my hand excitedly. My mother had her own nursery where she would spend time with our siblings (that's how we refer to our plants in this home).

"Not me, it takes a lot my time to help you at the nursery moreover you don't pay me enough for it momma. Increase my pocket money mummy," Ann said expectantly.

Mom glared at her gesturing her to finish her breakfast.

I will help you to deliver the remaining orders after school ma," Jazz said with his mouth half stuffed with a croissant.

"Oh damn it hurry up we are gonna get late," Ann said indicating Jazz to finish his breakfast quickly.

"Ann language, your younger brother is here," said my mom glancing at her.

"Shit, I forgot to turn the fertilizer pot," said my mom getting up. We all looked towards her and burst out laughing at her comment.

"I'm going," I got up shooting a glance over the clock. Today is the entrance exams for National Institute of Medical Sciences. I have been aspiring to become a doctor since I was eleven. Yup, there were things which interested me but they were momentary. To become a doctor has been my ultimate passion.

All the best Kiia" cheered my whole family excitedly.

"Thanks, guys," I yelled back smiling and hurried towards my bus stop.

Just as I was running my ankle got twisted and I fell.

A hand came to help me out.

I held the hand and smiled back at Hima.

Hima is my childhood friend, we have been together since our kindergarten days. We are like the tongue and the teeth. I don't know but we are both appearing for the medical exams together. Sometimes it is baffling that our dreams are also so much similar.

Together we walked towards the bus that was waiting for us at the stop.

"Are you nervous," I asked Hima as I saw her shivering.

"A little bit," she squealed. I handed her a piece of my chocolate bar which I was nibbling on the whole way. As a sweet tooth, there is always some sweet lying in my bag.

"Keep it, It will help you with the nervousness," I said smiling at her.

Both of us wished each other luck before going towards our respective exam halls.

I started writing my paper when I felt my right hand twitched a little. At that moment I couldn't move, it felt like my brain froze for those seconds. I stared at it and supported it with my left hand thinking that I really need to cut down on my sugar consumption. Time passed by and it was time to hand over our answer sheets to the invigilator.

I got up and moved towards the desk to submit my answer sheet. As I was doing so it slipped through my hand and I felt my hands twitched a little. The invigilator bent down and took my answer sheet. I smiled towards him showing my gratitude.

"Gotta keep control on my sugar intake," I told myself.

[aelia-likes-monsters]

The Wedding Date

Characters: Male Orc, Female Reader Rating: LEMON Content: NSFW, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Chubby Female Reader Word Count: ~6800

Notes: This is a “fake dating” commission for @hufflesmonsters <3 

Story is also available on AO3

And now this story has art! Check out this piece by @pyxyydraws

“Are you bringing a date to the wedding?” Your mom asked.

“Maybe,” you said, leaning your hip against the kitchen counter and staring at the calendar; your perfect, successful, younger sister’s wedding was in a month.“I don’t want to rush things with the boyfriend. You know the impression it sends when you drag them to weddings. Then there’s all the extra stuff since I’m a bridesmaid, so it won’t be fun for him.”  

Also, you didn’t want to bring him because he wasn’t real but you weren't going to admit that to your mother. When Anna had mentioned her engagement everyone had been so excited, but they’d also turned to you and started asking questions. Why aren’t you dating? Why are you still single? Do you have a job yet? So you’d lied. You’d lied your ass off, and now you had to keep up the lies. As far as your family knew, your boyfriend was gorgeous, successful, madly in love with you, and had been for eight months.

“Just bring him, darling. All of us want to meet him!” Your mother said, ignoring all of your protests. “We’re having a family barbeque this weekend and going over some details, you should bring him by! Finally introduce him to everyone! I insist.”

You grimaced. Maybe you could fake break-up? Fake an emergency for him the morning of? You’d figure it out. You had to.

“Sounds good mom, I’ve gotta go now though. Love you! Bye!”

You hung up the phone and buried your face in your hands. You had no idea what you were going to do, but the pressure was on. You were running out of time to figure this out.

Two days later you were sitting at your favorite coffee shop, sipping a latte and enjoying a croissant. You were no closer to solving your problem, and had even considered hiring an escort for the wedding. It might be pathetic, but at least you wouldn’t be alone.

It was then that opportunity literally fell into your lap as a tall orc tripped on someone’s laptop bag, slammed into your table, and practically face-planted into your cleavage. In the process, he sent your latte cup flying, and spilled his own coffee, coating both of you in the sticky beverage. You bit back a string of curse words and shoved away from the table, looking at the disaster that had just befallen you.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” The orc who had just landed on you asked, rolling off your table and onto his knees beside you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You opened your mouth to give him an earful, and abruptly closed it. First, because he was gorgeous. He had dark hair, braided and pulled back into a ponytail that cascaded over his shoulders, and a dark, neatly trimmed beard. His tusks were clean, unchipped, and banded with silver, which drew attention to full lips that you wanted to nibble on. He was dressed well, in a button up shirt that fit him like it was made for him, and nice slacks, though both were covered in coffee.

Secondly, and more importantly, you knew him. You’d gone to high school with him. Karthurg had been a bit of a loner, but the two of you had been friendly. You’d never been close friends, so you had lost touch after graduation, but it seemed fate had brought him back into your life at just the right moment.

Because you needed a date, and this beautiful man might just be it.

“Are you okay?” He asked again, and you realized you must have been staring at him silently for far too long. You met his eyes--as blue as you remembered, and still framed with gorgeous long lashes-- and blushed.

“Oh. Shit, I’m sorry. Yeah, I’m okay. I just….” You were abruptly aware of your soggy clothes, and of the latte that you’d been enjoying, which was now soaking into your cute slacks and the drapey blouse you were wearing. You glanced down. Not only was there foam and coffee soaking into the fabric, but it was also making your clothes cling to you. On a skinnier girl, you thought the look might be sexy. On you, it just made you hyper-aware of how big you were.

“I’m sorry,” Karthurg said, grabbing a towel from one of the staff members who had rushed over to help clean up the mess. He raised his hand as if to wipe coffee off your blouse, but rethought the gesture. His eyes flickered to yours, and a blush stained his cheeks. He handed the towel to you, and let you wipe the coffee off yourself.

“I know you,” You said, blurting the words out finally.

Karthurg laughed. “A lot of people know me.” He said, continuing to clean himself up. “Comes with the job.”

“What?” You asked, pausing mid-wipe. “I don’t know what that means. We went to school together, Karthurg.”

Karthurg also stopped what he was doing, and looked at you. He seemed to really look at you for the first time since he fell on you. His eyes widened, and his lips curved into a grin that would have wet your panties if they weren’t already soaked with coffee.

“Well shit, you do know me. It’s been a while.” Karthurg sat back on his heels and cocked his head to one side, really taking you in. “In that case, if you’re interested I live near here and have an in-unit washer dryer. Since we’re old friends, it’s not as weird if I offer to wash your clothes for you.”

You thought about your plans for the day; about the job interview you were supposed to be at in a few short hours, and the coffee staining your clothes. You could go home and change, but you thought spending some time with Karthurg might be more interesting. Besides, there were other jobs, and you weren’t particularly excited by the one you were interviewing for today.

“Yeah, okay.” You said, gathering up your things. “It’d be good to catch up, too.”

Thirty minutes later you were freshly showered and sitting on Karthurg’s couch, wearing a pair of his exercise shorts and a t-shirt that stretched obscenely over your chest. You were self conscious, but there was nothing for it; your clothes were in the wash. For his part, Karthurg wore jeans that hung low on his hips, and a t-shirt that hugged his muscles. When he moved you could just see hints of green skin between his shirt and his jeans and you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Gods he was a beautiful man.

“So,” you said, sipping the replacement coffee he’d made you. “Why is it that people know you?”

“I model,” he said, taking a seat near you. He stated it matter-of-factly, though you thought you caught a hint of a blush.

“Wait,” You reached into your oversized purse and retrieved a magazine you read on the train. You flipped through it, and opened it to an ad; an orc sprawled across the page, visible from his tusks down to his thighs. It was an underwear ad that you’d enjoyed seeing earlier. You looked from it to Karthurg and blushed brightly. “This is… you?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, clearly amused by your reaction. “That’s only the most recent.”

“Holy shit, no wonder you assumed I was a fan at first.” You laughed. “You must have tons.”

“Eh,” He shrugged, and took a sip of his coffee without making eye contact. “There’s a few, but most folks who pursue me don’t recognize me, they just think I’m pretty.”

“You are.” You said, before quickly drinking coffee to stop whatever else was going to come out of  your mouth. It gave your brain time to catch up, to process, to keep you from embarrassing yourself completely. “So, I have a ridiculous favor to ask you, as a long time friend?”

“I like to think we were friends, yeah,” Karthurg said, that flirtatious smile back on his face.

“My sister is getting married in a month,” You told him. “And between now and then there’s some family gatherings that I need to go to. I might have told my family I have a boyfriend…” You couldn’t look at him for this part. This was too pathetic to admit. “I don’t.”

“You’re single?” He said, and you heard him shift in his seat, but you still couldn’t make yourself look at him.

“Yeah, embarrassing, right?” You sighed. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but do you think you could pretend to be my boyfriend for a few events?”

“I’m in.” He said, so quickly that you knew he hadn’t thought about it.

You gaped at him, but he was just smiling at you, that mischievous twinkle that you remembered from high school in his eye. Karthurg had always been down to cause trouble, it was part of what had drawn you to him then, though you worried that now that penchant for trouble would be less endearing.

“Well, let me get you up to speed then…”

“Are you ready?” You asked Karthurg, your grip tight enough on the steering wheel to whiten your knuckles.

“Yes. It will be okay,” He reached over and pulled your hands off the wheel. He held onto them until you turned to look at him. “I know you. I’ve known you for years. I’m also very good at small talk, and if worst comes to worst I’ll just rip off my shirt and flex until nobody remembers what they were talking about.”

You laughed, picturing him standing on the buffet table flexing like a living statue.

“There’s my girl,” he teased. Your belly flip-flopped. You liked hearing that too much for your own good. You held his gaze, and let yourself pretend for a few seconds that this was real. Then, before the fantasy could run away with you and set you up for heartbreak, you pulled your hands from his.

“Let’s do this.” You said.

Later, you’d be hard pressed to remember the entire family barbeque, but some moments stood out to you. Your mother had been pleased as punch to “finally meet the mystery man.” She’d made a point of pulling you aside later and telling you that she was happy you were happy. The guilt had sat heavy in your stomach, so you’d chased it away with a beer.

Your sister had practically had to wipe the drool off her chin when she saw Karthurg. You’d laughed at the look on her face, and the thumbs up she’d given you. You’d kept him away from her mostly; your sister might drive you crazy, but she was also one of your closest friends, and she’d see right through the bullshit.

Throughout the afternoon, you remember his hand on the small of your back, keeping you close while he spoke to people and charmed literally everyone (but especially your Aunties.) You remember the way he kept your plate full of snacks, and he was careful to make sure you got enough water to balance out the beer you were drinking. You especially remember the moment when he leaned down to whisper something in your ear, because his lips had just brushed your earlobe, and you’d nearly combusted.

As the afternoon turned into evening, your mother “stole you away” to talk about wedding stuff. You’d glanced at Karthurg in desperation, but he’d just laughed at you, and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. You’d blushed brightly, and his grin had grown bigger, but he hadn’t saved you. Instead he’d turned back to his conversation with your father about… whatever it was they were discussing.

That part you pushed out of your mind; it was all stuff to do with the wedding. Things that, in the moment you remembered, and you even jotted down in the notebook, like a good maid of honor. But your mind was on Karthurg. On the feel of his hands on your back.

When it was over, you’d rushed out of there, and right to his side. Karthurg had pulled you close, held you as he finished his conversation with your dad. Then you’d said your goodbyes, and left. Karthurg had driven you both home in your car, because you’d had too much to drink (not normally your style, but you were stressed.)

The bits between leaving the barbecue and waking up the next morning were a little fuzzy. You remember Karthurg telling you he had fun, and him helping you upstairs and into your apartment. You also thought you remembered- gods had you propositioned him? You think you did. Immediately you felt the need to text him.

You >> I’m sorry if I behaved inappropriately last night. Karth >> You didn’t cross any lines. How’s your head? You >> Ehh. It’s bad, but it could be worse. Thank you for yesterday. You >> I really am sorry if I… said anything that made you feel weird. Karth >> No problem. It was fun. You didn’t. Karth >> Drink the water on the nightstand. It’s good for you. You >> <3 Omg you left me medicine and water?! You’re amazing. Karth >> I know. <3

He was so sweet. You couldn’t handle this. You were half in love with him already, and you knew it was only going to get worse. Your mom had texted you an itinerary of events that she expected you to bring Karthurg to now that she’d met him and decided she liked him. It was bad; she’d gone ahead and planned extra things just to torture you. You were sure of it.

You forwarded him the list with dates and times. He shot back confirmation that he could make it to nearly everything. Oh joy, you thought. On the one hand, you were genuinely delighted you’d get to spend more time with him, because it was easy with him. It didn’t feel fake. Last night had felt comfortable. You trusted him. On the other hand, this was awful precisely because it was so easy. You were falling fast, and you were falling hard, and you were sure to get your heart broken.

You’d do this to save face, and you’d get through Anna’s wedding, because you loved your sister. You sometimes wanted to throttle her, and you hated that you always got compared to her and found lacking, but you loved her. But afterward, you were going to let Karthurg go and nurse the inevitable heartbreak.

You had to.

Family dinner with Karthurg. Brunch with Anna, her fiancee, the bridesmaids, and Karthurg. Finalizing hair and makeup, helping Anna with a million checklists, dragging Karthurg along to about a million things that you’re certain the maid-of-honor’s boyfriend wouldn’t normally be invited to, except that your family had decided they loved Karthurg. The big, beautiful orc was so sweet and patient and happy to help that you were dying a little more each day, too.

Today you were helping your mother and Anna with wedding favors. Anna was adding her own labels to bottles of sparkling wine, beer, and fizzy juice for guests to take home after the ceremony, wrapping it in tulle, and adding a bow with a cute note. It was a bit of a pain, but the other bridesmaids had helped yesterday with the labels, and now you and Karthurg were here to help with the tulle and the bows.

You and Anna were working on the coffee table in the sitting room, which adjoined the dining room. Karthurg was at the dining table, teasing your mother and making her laugh as they twisted the tulle and added blue ribbons. You were watching them, and you must have had some kind of sappy look on your face, because Anna’s elbow caught you in the ribs and jerked you out of your reverie.

“You’ve got it bad, huh?” She said, giving you a grin.

“I…” You were torn between denying it and agreeing. You looked from your sister, to the gorgeous orc at the table. “It’s just great that he’s so good with mom. You remember my last boyfriend.”

“Oof. Yeah, he was awful. You only kept him around because mom hated him.” Anna said with an eye roll.

“I came out here to help you, and I feel really attacked right now.” You said with a laugh.

“You know I’m right.” She jostled you again. “I’m glad he makes you happy. It’s been too long since I saw that look on your face.”

“Girls! If you can’t talk and work, don’t talk!” Your mother barked from the dining table. “We’ve got to get all 200 of these done today!”

“Yes mom,” Anna said, giving you a little eye roll. You bit back a laugh, and got back to work.

Part of you was relieved. You didn’t want to talk about what was going on with Karthurg, and you were so close to telling Anna everything. She didn’t need that, not right now, with her wedding so close. There was too much on her plate already.

You glanced over at the dining room again. Karthurg was looking at you, a soft look on his face. He was so good at this faking thing that you could believe he was really your boyfriend sometimes. Your eyes met, and he gave you a smile that melted you. Gods I do have it bad. This was going to hurt. You smiled back.

That night he held your hand as he walked you out to the car. His hands were big and warm and soft, and his fingers wrapped around yours gently. He helped you into his car carefully, and he smiled down at you in a way that made your stomach flutter, though nobody watching from inside the house could have seen it. It made everything feel more real. The entire drive home you watched his hands on the steering wheel, and imagined how they might feel on your body.

Karthurg parked outside your apartment building, and walked you to your front door. You wanted to invite him inside. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t quite get them out.

Karthurg leaned down slowly. He closed the distance between the two of you carefully, stopping with only the smallest distance between his lips and yours, leaving the choice to you. You gave him a brief, chaste kiss, and then pulled back, blushing brightly. What was that?

Karthurg stood up again with a grin. “Have a good night, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, before taking a big step back and turning to leave, that smile still on his face.

“Yeah, tomorrow.” You said, still a little dazed. You watched him walk away, and fought the urge to brush your fingers against your lips. You were not a silly teenager, or a character in a romance story. You were a strong, independent woman, dammit.

But dang was he cute. You smiled to yourself, and headed into your apartment.

Morning came too soon, and sweet dreams about Karthurg were rudely interrupted by someone pounding on your front door. You grumbled your way out of bed, pulled on an oversized t-shirt and yanked the door open to rip them a new one.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Karthurg said, greeting you with a smile that was far too cheerful.

“Why are you here so early?” was all you managed to say in response as you glared up at his beautiful face. You knew that the look on your face said you were thinking about homicide, but he was cheery as could be. In that moment, you hated him.

“Your mother called. Apparently today’s schedule got bumped up. When you didn’t answer her many phone calls she called me.” The big, gorgeous orc held up a takeout tray with paper coffee cups and a paper bag full of food. “I come with offerings, but you need to get a move on. We don’t have much time and you…” he looked down, “are not wearing much.”

Maybe later you’d be embarrassed, but in the moment you knew the damage would be done, and whatever he’d brought smelled delicious.

“Food first. Pants after.” You said, dragging him into the kitchen.

Without comment, Karthurg gave you a breakfast sandwich and one of the paper cups. You nearly inhaled both. He was quiet as both of you ate, and every time you looked at him, he seemed to be staring intently at something that wasn’t you. The lack of pants seemed to be stressing him out; you’d think an underwear model of all things could handle a woman less than fully dressed. Though you supposed most of the women he was around were skinnier and prettier and… you stopped that thought. Down that path was insecurity and hurt feelings. You knew better than to go there.

“Thank you for bringing me food.” You said. “I just need to grab a quick shower, and then we can go do… I don’t remember. Whatever today’s ridiculous wedding prep is.”

“I think today is place cards and finalizing the seating chart?” Karthurg said, after glancing at his phone.

“Ugh. If I ever get married, I’m eloping. This is absurd.” You stuffed the remains from breakfast into the trash. “If you can think up a good excuse for us to miss this, I’ll love you forever.”

Karthurg choked on the coffee he was drinking.

“You okay?” You asked, rushing to his side.

“Yeah, just… can’t breathe coffee.” He waved you off. “Go shower. I’ll be here.”

When you emerged after a speedy shower, you emerged to hear Karthurg getting off the phone. He was busy assuring someone that he’d “keep them up to date,” and that he was “so sorry.”

“What was that?” You asked when he finally stuck his phone back in his pocket.

“Only me being the best fake boyfriend you’ll ever have,” he said. “We had a minor car issue and I’m not sure but I am afraid it’s going to take all day to get it taken care of… unfortunately I don’t think we can help today.”

“You didn’t?!” You launched yourself at him, and gave him a huge hug. “You’re the best.”

He hugged you back, and it felt so good that you were overwhelmed. Why couldn’t this be real? Karthurg was a great friend. He’d be an amazing boyfriend, too, you were sure. But this “fake dating” thing was so complicated already, and you didn’t know if you’d get out of it unscathed.  

“Yeah, but you’re not rid of me.” His voice broke through your thoughts. “We’re going to go do something fun. What do you want to do?”

“That’s a hard choice. There’s too many options.” You said. “Narrow it down some.”

“Hm. Beach or a park or something else entirely?”

“Oh! The museum? There’s an exhibit that’s on loan that I was hoping to see?” You grabbed his arm in excitement, and he smiled down at you. The look on his face was soft.

“Sounds like a fun day.” He said with a smile.

And it really was.

You took your sweet time exploring the museum, wandering the halls and looking at the many exhibits. You found that having someone like Karthurg was actually better than when you came alone, because he was there to listen to you gush about the things that excited you, and to discuss things that he liked, too. And he was patient, letting you take your time looking at things, strolling along at a comfortable speed. Lunch was from the museum cafe, but the food was tasty, and you could look out over dinosaur fossils while you ate.

“I’m glad we ran into each other again,” Karthurg said.

“Me, too.” You wanted to say more. You wanted to tell him how much you’d like spending time with him this last month, how you looked forward to texts from him. How you’d laughed more with him than you had in a long time. But you didn’t want to make things weird, or burden him with expectations, so you bit your tongue, and looked out over the museum again.

Karthurg, seeming to take his cue from you, didn’t say anything either. You tried to tell yourself you were overthinking things, but you felt like maybe you’d screwed something up.

When you finally made it to the basement, where the full arctic dinosuar exhibit was on display, Karthurg’s hand brushed against yours. You startled, but then his fingers wrapped around yours and held on. It was nice, and it didn’t feel like he was pushing anything, so you tried to just enjoy it.

He held your hand all the way back to the car.

You were both quiet during the drive back to your place. When he parked, he gripped your hand, and caught your eye.

“I like you. A lot.” Karthurg paused, and you tried to remember how to breathe. Was he about to give you a ‘just friends’ speech? Signs pointed to no, but you’d been wrong before.

The silence stretched, like Karthurg was searching for words. You bit your lip, and waited, knowing that if you spoke you’d probably say the wrong thing and ruin whatever this was.

“I like-like you,” he said. And then, as the absurdity of his words hit him, he dropped his head back on the seat and groaned. “I swear, I’m an adult, it’s just… I had the biggest crush on you in high school, and here you are again, as gorgeous as ever, and I have another opportunity, and all I can think is ‘pretty girl, wanna kiss’ and it’s making me dumb.”

“Well shit.” You said, not really able to say anything more intelligent. Your brain had sort of short-circuited after hearing him call you gorgeous, especially since he’d apparently had a thing for you for years. “Do you want to come upstairs then?”

“Absolutely.” He said.

You got up the stairs to your apartment in record time. There was a moment, as you locked the door, where you found yourself wondering if this was real. But then his big hands found your hips, and pulled you back against him, and you realized that no, this was really happening.

“Not having second thoughts, are you?” He asked, his tusk teasing the shell of your ear.  His hands skimmed up under your shirt, just brushing the sensitive skin of your belly. You melted against him.

“No.” You said, your voice more of a purr. “But I think you still owe me some kisses.”

You turned in his arms, and reached up, pulling him down so you could press your lips to his. He was soft, and warm, and tasted vaguely of the peppermint candies he liked to snack on. His arms slid around you, and then his hands were cupping your butt. And then he was lifting you up like you were weightless, and you were gasping into his mouth. It was exhilarating but also terrifying.

“I have definitely thought about this” he informed you as he carried you over to your couch.  You squeaked in alarm and wrapped your legs around him, and held onto him for dear life. He just chuckled in amusement as it made all the soft parts of you press hard against him. “I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

“I’m going to hurt you!” you insisted.

“No, babe. You’re soft and squishy in all the right places, but you’re not too big for this.” Carrying you an extra circuit around the apartment to make his point before he sat down on the couch.  With you straddling him like this, your faces were nearly level, so you were looking into his eyes.

He opened his mouth to say more, but you silenced him with a kiss. This was getting to be too much too fast. Too many emotions, and you couldn’t process it all right now. But kissing? That you could handle. So you did. You brought your hands up to cup his jaw, your fingers sinking into the scratchy-soft hair of his beard as you held him. You slid your tongue along his lips, and when he opened his mouth, you dove in, tangling your tongue with his and pillaging. Laying claim. He groaned, and wrapped his arms tight around your waist. You felt one of his hands come up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you tight against him.

You shifted, grinding your pelvises together and creating friction that had you both panting as you kissed the corners of his lips, where his tusks jutted up. You would have done more teasing, but Karthurg had other plans, shifting so that he was kissing the side of your neck. The feeling of his lips, his tusks, and his beard was enough to drive you to distraction.

One of his hands worked between you and cupped one of your breasts, and even through the fabric he managed to zero in on a nipple. He pinched it gently, and you arched into it, chasing the feeling.

“Hey,” he murmured between nips. “Bed?”

“Yes.” You purred. Maybe rushing things was bad. If it was, you’d deal with it later. Right now all you could think was that Karthurg was the sweet and gorgeous and you l- nope. Not going there. You like-liked him.

As you giggled at your stupid thought, Karthurg scooped you up again, and with some directions from you, carried you to your bed. He threw you onto it in a way that made you bounce, but he looked smug.

“Damn you’re pretty,” he said. “Wanna get naked and let me see how lucky I really am?”

“When you ask so nicely…” you hopped back off the bed. You could try to turn this into a sexy strip-tease, but you know yourself. So instead you slide your pants off, and then look at Karthurg expectantly. “Well?”

He grinned and took his time removing his own pants.

“You damn near killed me this morning when I saw you wearing that shirt and no pants,” he admitted. “All I could think of was touching your thighs.” He stepped closer, invading your space, pulling your shirt off over your head as he spoke. “Touching and tasting what’s between them. Making you scream my name.”

“Oh.” You smiled, and shimmied out of your bra and panties, so you were standing there naked. “I like that idea. Let’s do that.”

“I like when you’re agreeable like this,” He picked you up- again, the showoff- and set you back on the bed, stripped off the rest of his clothes, and climbed into bed with you. He rolled you onto your back and pinned you, pressing  you down into the soft mattress with his weight as he kissed you, softly at first, and then with more intensity.

He worked his way down to your neck, and then your chest. He lavished attention upon your breasts, having noticed how you reacted in the living room to a simple touch. Here, with his hands and his fingers he teased you until you were quivering with need.

“Karthurg,” you whined.

“Yes?”

“I want more.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You pushed at him, and he obliged by rolling onto his back, and looking at you with a hungry smile.

“Remember what I said about those gorgeous thighs of yours?” You nodded, and he continued. “Come sit on my face, pretty girl.”

You felt greedy, taking your pleasure like this when you hadn’t done anything for him yet, but at the same time, it was exciting. So you crawled up the bed, and settled yourself with your thighs on either side of his head.

“If I need you to lift up, I’ll tap, otherwise you stay put.” Karthurg said, before tugging you down so your pussy was pressed to his face.

His tongue immediately went to work, delving into your wet folds, laving over you and teasing you. His nose nudged against your clit. His tusks scraped gently against your outer lips as he feasted. His hands wrapped around your thighs, sinking into your soft skin as he held you tight, and soon you felt yourself losing control. You fell forward, and struggled to hold yourself up as his tongue thrust into you and his nose rubbed your clit and he devoured you.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as your first orgasm rolled over you. He kept going, teasing more out of you, drawing it out, until your legs were shaking and you were nearly ready to pull away in overstimulated desperation.

He slowed though, and let you relax. And then his fingers loosened, and he tapped. You lifted away, and he slid out from under you, his tongue cleaning his lips like a smug cat.

“Didn’t hear my name though.” He said. “Guess I’ll have to make you cum again.”

You laughed, but gave his weeping erection a meaningful glance. “Can’t I do anything for you?”

“Whatever you want.” He said. “Though unless you have condoms…”

“I absolutely do.” You said, diving for the nightstand drawer. There was a box inside, one you’d purchased not too long ago in idle hope. You flipped it and checked the expiration. “No latex allergy?”

“No,” Karthurg replied. “There’s other types I like more, but that’ll do.”

“Noted,” you said, and ripped open the box. You separated one from the rest, then crawled back to Karthurg. You knelt beside him, and grinned, your fingers sliding over the tip of his penis, rubbing the precum around. “There’s a few things I’d like to enjoy first though; latex doesn’t taste so good.”

“Like I said, whatever you-” his words became a groan as you sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth. You ran your tongue over him as you took as much as you could, exploring the bumps and ridges as you went. “Oh fuck.”

Your gag reflex was too strong to do anything fancy, but you got your hands involved, wrapping one hand around the length you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You worked your hand and head in synch, so all of his cock was getting attention. Karthurg brought one of his hands to the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair; holding on, but letting you set the pace.

You felt his body tighten, heard the way his breath sped up, and you backed away, slowing down. He groaned, and laughed.

“You are wicked,” he said. “So cruel.”

You did it again; bringing him right to the edge and then backing off. Karthurg didn’t hurry you along. You felt his fingers tighten in your hair, but didn’t press your head down or try to force anything. He just groaned in beautiful complaint when you slowed.

His penis slipped from between your lips with a deliberate ‘pop’ as you sat back. The fingers that had been tangled in your hair stroked your cheek as you moved; a soft caress. You looked at your handiwork proudly; Karthurg lay there, watching you, breathing hard, clearly right on the edge.

“You think you can last until I cum again?” You asked, rolling the condom onto him.

“I’m game to try. And if I don’t, you’ll still get another.”

“Excellent answer,” you said, straddling him. You lowered yourself slowly, savoring the stretch. He was big, but not uncomfortably so, and he filled you perfectly.  You rolled your hips. Karthurg’s eyes shut, and his brows drew low as he concentrated on lasting. His hands slid along your thighs, before settling on your hips.

You ran your hands over his gorgeous chest as you rode him and took your pleasure. Your finger brushed one of his nipples, and he jerked. Of course that meant you had to keep teasing him. He struggled to last.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m so close.”

“I’m getting there,” You caught one of his hands, brought it down so he could rub your clit.

He understood what you wanted, circling the sensitive nub with his fingers, pressing just-so and speeding up as you built toward your second climax. And then you were there, rushing over the edge. You fell forward, trapping his hand between you, but Karthurg was right behind you, slamming into you with a few more thrusts and a long groan.

The two of you lay there for a moment, just catching your breath. He slipped out of you, hanging onto the condom. You rolled off him, and headed for the bathroom to clean up some.

“Shower, then dinner?” You asked.

“Yes, please.”

Later, after dinner, and more sex, and a lot more kissing, when Karthurg snored quietly in your bed, you lay awake. What the hell were you doing? You wondered. Sleeping with your fake boyfriend seemed like a great way to complicate things. But, was he fake? Him still being here, one of his arms draped over you, clinging to you even as he slept, suggested he wasn’t faking, and maybe never had been.

Had you ever been faking with him? Maybe at first, when you hadn’t let yourself believe it could be real, but your feelings had gotten tangled up in this pretty fast. Karthurg was the sweetest guy you’d ever dated, fake or otherwise.

There were three days until the wedding. After that, you could ask the messy questions like “what are we, really?” and “I know we were faking but I have real feelings and do you want to stick around?” And then came the part you dreaded, admitting to your family that you’d lied.

This was going to suck.

But it would be worth it, right?

As if on cue, Karthurg pulled you closer. Yeah, it would be, you decided.

The morning of the wedding was chaos. Between the hundred last minute crises that your mother fluttered over, to helping to get Anna ready, and wrangle her other bridesmaids, you very nearly forgot to eat. Late in the morning, a knock at the door signaled the arrival of food, and one very handsome orc.

“Delivery for a gorgeous lady,” Karthurg said.

“You’re the best,” you said, taking the tray of bite-sized snacks from him, and quickly handing it off to one of the other girls.

You stepped out of the room, and looked him over. He was already suited up, in a navy blue ensemble that would complement your bridesmaid dress without making him look like a member of the wedding party. Gods did you love a man in a suit. You were mentally undressing him already.

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” he said with a laugh.

“Can’t blame a girl for appreciating the view,” you said.

“Can’t blame me, either then.” He looked you over, then leaned down and whispered in your ear “You make that dress look so good I can’t wait to peel it off you later.”  You know you must have turned bright red, but his smile was wicked, and he didn’t look even a little bit apologetic.  “I won’t keep you, I know you’re busy.”

And though you were beyond frustrated with him for teasing you like that, you did have to appreciate the view as he left.

The wedding itself went well. Anna glowed. Her groom beamed. Several of the two-hundred people packed into the hall wept.  Then the ceremony was over, and the reception began. There was dinner, and dancing, and you saw family and old family friends, and you know it was a fun evening, but you didn’t remember most of it. There was a haze of fatigue that colored it. But Anna beamed, and you knew her magical day was going well, which was the important part.

And then came the bouquet toss.

All the unmarried women crowded the dance floor. You were out there with them, and though you had no desire to catch the flowers, there you were. Anna, damn her, looked over her shoulder, pointed at you, and winked. You glared, but there had to be a sister-seeking-missile in the flowers, because they landed right in your unwilling arms.

For his part, Karthurg just grinned at you. The bastard.

“So,” Anna said, as you sat with her near the end of the reception. “Is it finally real?”

“What?” Your stomach sank.

“Oh come on,” She raised an eyebrow. “You can bullshit mom and dad, but I follow your Insta & Snapchat. You didn’t post any pictures of the two of you until like… three weeks ago.”

“Damn it, Anna.” You buried your face in your hands. “I’ve been freaking out, trying to figure out how to tell you, and you knew?”

“Yeah.” She laughed. “It was pretty fun watching you squirm. But like, I knew you’d figure it out. You always do.”

“It’s real.” You told her. You watched Karthurg chat with your parents, keeping both of them entertained while you talked to your sister. The two of you had planned this, and now you knew it was unnecessary. “Think we can just… never tell them?”

“Depends… what’s it worth to you?”

This story was a commission, if you’d like your own, check out my commissions page.  If you want to read other stuff I’ve written, check out my Writing Masterlist.

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[aalissy]

Patrols and Shocking Revelations

And chapter 14 of Dreaming in Black and White is finally here! I hope you all enjoy it!! Even though it took me a while D;. Sorry I’ve been preparing for finals and watching Jingle Jam streams so I’ve been pretty bussyyyy. Hopefully, you don’t mind too much <3. Lemme know what you think?

AO3

When Marinette’s eyes blinked open that morning, they immediately scanned her surroundings, hoping to spot something other than the color blue. Exhaling in disappointment when she found no other colors, she stood up, shrugging off the lingering sadness. Maybe tomorrow, she thought to herself hopefully as she changed into her normal clothes.

“Wow, Marinette,” Tikki’s small voice came from her pillow as the kwami yawned, rubbing her eye tiredly, “You’re up early and I didn’t even have to wake you.”

“Shush,” the designer giggled, “I’ve been getting up earlier and you know it!”

“Sure you have,” the small, bug-like creature dragged out sarcastically, “What about yesterday then?”

Marinette’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she screeched, “That was different! I had to bake that croissant for Adrien, remember?”

A small, tinkling laugh came from her kwami at that, “You’re right. That was very kind of you, Marinette.”

“Thank you,” she stuck her tongue out teasingly at Tikki before opening her purse, “Come on, we’re going to be late for school if you keep staring at me like that.”

“Ah, yes, because it’s my fault we’re usually late for class.”

Marinette grumbled as she turned to flip open her trapdoor, “Fine, be that way then!” she made it about halfway down the steps before feeling a small force zip into her purse. Smiling down at her bag, her face brightened even more when she stepped into her kitchen and saw the breakfast that was awaiting her.

“Good morning, Marinette. You’re up early,” Tom chuckled jovially at her. He winked at her as she was handed a plate filled with fresh croissants and warm bread.

“Good morning Maman, Papa,” Marinette kissed both their cheeks with a loving smile before sitting down. She scarfed down her breakfast hungrily as her gaze continuously glanced over to the time on her phone.

Sabine brushed a strand of her hair back, kissing her cheek as she spoke to her daughter softly, “Slow down there. You’re not late this morning, remember?”

Giving her mother a sheepish smile, Marinette slowed down as she ate the remaining scraps of her breakfast. Washing her plate off before putting it into the dishwasher, she went to the bathroom where she could finish brushing her teeth and hair. Ignoring everything else that remained a dull grey, the designers’ eyes watched her dark blue hair move in awe as she brushed it into her usual pigtails. Once finished with her daily routine, which took a little longer than usual due to her fascination with her hair, she dashed out and kissed both her parents on the cheeks once again.

 “Goodbye Maman! Goodbye Papa!” Marinette called out as she rushed down the stairs and out of the bakery. 

In her race to get to school, she hardly noticed the body she collided against at the entrance hall. With a startled screech, she fell onto the boy and felt his arms come up to wrap around her waist protectively as they hit the floor. Her eyes squeezed shut as the air left her body in a rush.

“Are you alright, Marinette?” Adrien’s voice came from somewhere and she blinked open her eyes and stared down at the model in shock. His brow was furrowed somewhat and his mouth was open slightly in surprise. Feeling her cheeks flush in embarrassment, she hurriedly got off the boy, holding a hand out to help him up.

“I’m so so sorry, Adrien! I was la-,” Marinette winced as she suddenly realized that she wasn’t late and hadn’t needed to crash into him so unexpectedly, “Well, I had thought I was late and didn’t see you.”

“I-It’s alright, Marinette,” he stuttered slightly before taking her hand reluctantly. Adrien stood up and looked at her as though wanting to say something more before turning around and walking away.

She stared after him with a frown, wondering why he seemed to leave so suddenly. Shrugging, she followed after him as they both walked into the same classroom. Pulling out her notebook, Marinette began doodling a new design as she waited for the rest of the class to arrive. Soon, she felt her best friend slide into the seat next to her and she turned to look at Alya eagerly.

“Wow girl, you’re here early,” her eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“Shut up,” Marinette laughed as she poked her friend in the shoulder with a pencil.

“Never!” Alya chuckled with her.

The designer merely giggled, rolling her eyes before she looked at her best friend more seriously, “Alya, w-would you mind if I-I, um, asked you something?”

“Of course not, Marinette! Shoot,” Alya said as she dug around her backpack for her own notebook.

Nodding, she tapped her index fingers together nervously, “You know how I told you yesterday that Luka was my soulmate, right?”

“How could I forget?!” the reporter placed her journal on her desk as she faced her friend, “I’m pretty certain we squealed for like five hours together yesterday!”

Nibbling her lip slightly, Marinette laughed anxiously, “R-right! So, I was just wondering when you and Nino were able to see more than one color.”

“What do you mean?” Alya’s head tilted to the side in confusion.

“You were only able to see one color when you first asked him out, right?” her brow furrowed as she watched her friend’s face stare at her in bewilderment.

“Um, no,” Alya shook her head, “When I asked Nino out we could see every color right away. D-did that not happen with Luka?” 

Marinette’s frown deepened with that response. She slowly shook her head as she opened her mouth, “I... no. We can only see the color blue. Do you know what that means?”

Her best friend’s hand came to rest on her shoulder as she looked at her with sympathy, “No, I-I honestly don’t. I’ve never heard of that happening before. Have you talked to your parents about it?”

“No. I thought it was normal and I was so excited to see something that it’s completely slipped my mind,” Marinette shook her head rapidly.

Alya pursed her lips in thought as she removed her hand, “Well, try asking them. If they don’t know why this happening then I can start investigating for you! Besides, maybe you and Luka are just slower and will be able to see more colors soon,” she exclaimed with a bright smile.

“Yeah, I bet your right,” she gave the reporter a shaky smile before turning to the front of the class as their lecture began. 

It was hard concentrating on her classes for the rest of the day when she was itching to go back home and ask her parents if they knew anything about her situation. Finally, the last bell rang and she bolted out of the classroom as she raced back home. Ducking and weaving against the other people on their own journeys home, Marinette eventually burst into the bakery. Taking a few seconds to pant in a few gasps of air, she eventually turned to her parents who were looking at her worriedly.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Sabine called from behind the front counter, “You can’t be late arriving home, you know.”

“I-I know,” she blushed faintly before nibbling her lip, “I just really needed to ask you something about soulmates.”

“Will you be alright running the bakery if I take a break to discuss things with Marinette?” Sabine turned to Tom with a loving smile.

He gave her a small peck on the lips before gesturing up the stairs with his head, “I’ll be fine. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you, love. I’ll be back soon,” she took her apron off before ushering her daughter into the upstairs kitchen. 

When Marinette sat down at her kitchen table, she took a deep breath before facing her mom. Fiddling with her hands nervously, she looks up at Sabine from beneath her lashes, “I was just wondering because Nino and Alya were able to see all colors at once, what it means if you can only see one?” Marinette finished in a rush.

Her mom blinked at her for a moment before tilting her head in confusion, “I’m afraid I didn’t understand that, Marinette. Could you repeat that again for me slower? I thought you and Luka were soulmates...”

Her eyes fluttered closed as she attempted to stop her restless movements and calm her mind, “Luka and I are soulmates but I’m only able to see the color blue. Do you know if that means anything?”

Sabine’s mouth dropped open in shock before it closed as a look of sympathy entered into her eyes, “I-I’m sorry, Marinette. I have heard of this happening before in very rare cases. Though I must admit that I don’t know much about this. It’s not usually talked about.”

“O-oh... D-do you know if they were eventually able to see color together, then?” 

The designer could feel her heart plummet as her mother’s face dropped even further. Marinette watched as Sabine slowly shook her head before placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, “I’m afraid I don’t. Like I said before, it's very rare, and I only know of one other person that had this.”

It was a struggle to keep the tears from escaping her eyes yet she managed to give her mother a wobbly smile, “W-well thank you, I guess. I-I actually have a lot of homework, so I should probably get to that.”

Standing up on wobbly legs, Marinette raced up to her upstairs bedroom, immediately burying her face within her pillow. She shook with silent sobs as the realization that she would never be able to experience the world the way it was intended to be fully hit her. She felt Tikki phase out of her purse and turned to look at her kwami who was looking down at her with sympathy.

“I-I’m so sorry about this, Marinette.”

“Sorry about what, Tikki?” she sniffled slightly, wiping the tears that leaked out of her eyes away with the back of her hand.

The kwami slowly shook her head before patting Marinette’s head comfortingly, “You didn’t give any sign that Luka wasn’t your true soulmate, so I just assumed...”

Leaning away from the small, bug-like creature, the designer frowned in confusion, “What do you mean by that?”

“This has happened to miraculous users before, Marinette. Whereas some parts of yourselves are able to fit together naturally the other side of you is... not as compatible.”

She hesitated before speaking softly, “D-do you mean that because I’m Ladybug, L-Luka and I aren’t able to see every color together?”

Tikki paused slightly and Marinette held her breath as she waited for the kwami’s response. Eventually, the kwami nodded her head slowly and the designer felt a rush of breath escape her. Taking in a shaky gasp of air, she flopped back down into her pillow with a quiet whimper.

“It’s going to be alright, Marinette. Just because you and Luka won’t be able to see color together doesn’t mean you don’t love each other,” Tikki tried to comfort the girl who kept her face buried tightly within her pillow.

“But don’t you see, Tikki?!” Marinette finally brought her face up angrily, “This is all my fault! Luka fell in love with me without knowing about Ladybug and so it’s my fault that we’ll never be able to see color!”

The kwami frowned as the girl got up out of bed and began pacing on the floor frustratedly, “Now don’t be ridiculous. Of course it’s not your fault, Marinette! Sure, you aren’t perfect for each other but that’s alright! You’re still in love aren’t you!”

Letting out a groan, Marinette flopped to the ground uselessly, “Of course I love him but that doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty! If I wasn’t Ladybug this would have never happened and Luka would be able to see color!”

“But you are Ladybug,” Tikki poked her, “And there’s no point in wishing for things that can’t be changed.”

Puffing out her cheeks, the designer slowly released all of the air in her lungs, “You’re right, Tikki, and I don’t think I would give up being Ladybug for anything... even if I could see all the colors in the world.”

“Now there’s my Marinette,” her kwami hugged her cheek slightly.

A small smile spread across her face as she cupped the kwami to her gently. Closing her eyes, she attempted to bury the bitter feelings and instead focus on the good. She reminded herself of her love for Luka and when she was ready, opened her eyes once again to look at the light blue accents scattered across her room. Letting the warm feelings race through her, Marinette let go of Tikki and walked over to the trapdoor leading to her balcony. She heard her kwami follow after her as she pushed open the hatch. Shivering slightly from the cold wind, she leaned against her railing as she watched the sun slowly set across the horizon.

The two watched in silence for a few minutes before Marinette broke it, “What am I going to tell Luka?”

“Just tell him the truth, Marinette. That though you two may not be a perfect match for each other, that you still love him and are willing to work through it,” Tikki’s small voice pierced the night air.

The designer nodded slowly before tugging on one of her pigtails nervously, “You’re right. I just hope that he understands,” she turned to look at her kwami, “Luka really is amazing, Tikki.”

“I’m certain that he will understand, Marinette. Your souls are still connected, it’s just not perfect. You know that right?”

“I understand,” she faced the moon as it slowly rose in the sky, “I just hope that he does,” Marinette whispered quietly.

“Are you ready for patrol?” her kwami broke through the tension that was slowly building up inside of her, “It’s been a slow week and I’m willing to bet that this will get your spirits up,” she winked at her holder cheekily.

The designer nodded with a bright smile, “Of course! You know I’m always ready, Tikki. I’ve just been hoping that Hawkmoth has finally given up.”

The small bug giggled quietly, “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Yeah,” Marinette sighed before calling on her transformation, “Tikki, spots on!”

Feeling the magical energy rush through her, the remaining signs of her exhaustion and sadness disappeared. Bouncing slightly on her feet, she excitedly threw her yo-yo onto a nearby rooftop. With a small whoop, Ladybug jumped off, feeling the wind whip through her pigtails as she swung from building to building. Within a few minutes, she was at the Eiffel Tower, waiting for her partner as she gazed down at the city sparkling with lights. A soft smile graced her face as she looked around at the bustling life before her.

“How are you doing on this purrfect night, M’lady?” 

A voice to her left startled her, causing her to jump slightly as Ladybug turned to see Chat Noir right beside her, “Chat! You scared me!”

“My apologies, LB. I thought you heard me arrive,” he smiled slightly.

Her head tilted to the side in confusion as she scanned his face. It was different. Usually, when Chat grinned it was bright and full of beaming energy, but this one seemed strained. With a light frown marring her face, she placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, “A-are you alright, Chaton?”

With her words, Ladybug watched his face crumple in shock. Her partner slumped forward and for the first time, she saw him look truly exhausted. Immediately she enraptured him in a large hug, attempting to erase that look from his face.

He chuckled tiredly, wrapping his own arms around her hesitantly as he spoke quietly, “Trust you to see right through me, Ladybug.”

She leaned away, nibbling her look as she looked into her partner’s eyes, “Of course! We’re partners, Chat! I’ll always know when you aren’t feeling well! So tell me what’s wrong!”

The superhero hesitated slightly before glancing away, “I-it’s about a girl.”

Ladybug blinked at him with wide eyes. Her stomach clenched tightly and she shook her head as she stepped out of their embrace. “What do you mean?” she asked as she rubbed her stomach lightly. That was odd, she frowned to herself.

“I screwed up, Ladybug,” Chat’s face fell into his palms.

“Screwed up how?” she placed a hand upon his shoulder, attempting to ignore the almost anxious feeling that was welling up inside of her.

“I-I’ve been talking to this civilian,” he turned to look at her sheepishly.

Ouch, that hurt, Ladybug winced slightly as she tried to imagine what other civilian Chat could be talking too.

Her partner must have misinterpreted her reaction as he rushed to reassure her, “Don’t worry about me ruining our identities! You know and trust her! At least... I assume you do since you allowed me to protect her over the Evillustrator fight.”

He was talking about her. For some odd reason, a rush of relief flooded her body with his words. A second later, however, she was frowning. How did he screw things up with her? She had thought things were going well.

“Marinette? Yes, of course I trust her,” Ladybug hesitated before asking her second question quietly, “H-how did you screw things up with her?”

Chat opened his mouth yet closed it a little while later. He slowly shook his head before turning away from her to look out over Paris, “I can’t tell you.”

“What? Of course you can Chat! You trust me, don’t you?” Ladybug grabbed his arm, turning him back to face her. She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes, worrying her lip nervously to hear his response.

He looked between her eyes panickedly before he practically shouted, “I think I fell in love with her!”

The superheroine practically froze up at his words. Her mouth falling open in pure shock and disbelief. She helped him to fall out of love with her only to make him fall in love with... her? Shaking her head furiously, she assumed that she misheard him and whispered, “What?”

“I know it’s wrong of me to fall in love with her! I still have feelings for you and yet here I am falling for Marinette as well. I’m so sorry, Ladybug,” Chat’s head dipped in sadness as he stared down at his feet, “But I-I just couldn’t help it... She’s amazing... smart, talented, super funny. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before. When I went to tell her how I felt though she told me she had already found her soulmate.”

Ladybug choked slightly. That explained why Chat looked so distraught last night. He had been trying to confess and she had rejected him once again. Clenching her eyes shut, she tried to forget the almost hopeful feeling welling up inside of her.

Luka, you’re in love with Luka. You can’t do this to him... But I don’t want to hurt Chat again, either.

“So I screwed up, terribly. And now I don’t know what to do,” her partner chuckled bitterly.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took a deep breath, “H-have you told her this?”

Chat’s head snapped to look at her with a wild expression, “What?! Of course not! I would never try to come between her and her soulmate!”

Her heart fluttered with happiness at his words and Ladybug soon gasped as a thousand things hit her at once. Oh god, she had feelings for Chat as well as Luka. She had been jealous earlier when he was talking about seeing another civilian. How in the world was she going to be able to keep everyone’s hearts from breaking? Stumbling backwards, she managed to stutter goodbye to him as she made an excuse about starting patrol. However, the rest of her patrol was filled with conflicting and shameful emotions as she berated herself inwardly.

You can’t be in love with both Chat and Luka. It isn’t fair to either one of them!! Especially when you’ve only just begun seeing Luka!

In the end, though, it was a quiet night and Ladybug headed back home rather early as a conflicting swirl of emotions clashed together inside of her stomach.

[isuthetimelady]

Adrigami!Felix au: Missed you, bug

Timeline: Some time after "First date incoming" post; they've been meeting for a while now, but it's just friendly meeting, what are y'all thinking

Yes, Felix finally is able to accept that he is friends with Bri. Progress!

~~~

Felix would never ever admit it, but he actually missed Bridgette recently.

There was a reason to it, since they didn't see each other for about a month; it was summer holidays and he was travelling with his parents and when he came back, Bridgette's grandmother took her on a sail trip. He didn't even knew she was already back in Paris.

But it was still weird weird feeling for him, to miss anyone.

Anyway, when Bridgette messaged him not long ago, asking of he would like to meet and get some croissant at her family's bakery, he agreeded to meet, partially because he wanted to see her, partially because of promised goods; she perfectly knew that this was a trap he couldn't refuse falling into.

"Oooh, hello you two!" welcomed them Bridgette's aunt from behind the counter as they entered the bakery.

"Hi, auntie Rose!" smiled girl. Felix murmured some greetings too. Woman knew him long enough to understand that this was as cheerful as he could be for most of the time.

When Bridgette's mother became prospering fashion designer, her parents actually accepted that at some point they would have to close the bakery and retire, leaving Paris without their delicious goods. But, when she got married and they met her sister-in-law, Rose, she showed interest in learning to bake.

Now, after a couple of years, she was succesfully running their bakery, with them helping her a bit.

"How was the trip? Hope mum didn't blear you?" asked Rose as she was packing them croissants.

"Nah, i'm fine. Tho after two weeks on a boat it is strange not to feel constant swaying."

"I know what you mean." smiled woman.

"But it was nice family trip. Pity that you and auntie Jule couldn't come."

"I wouldn't forgive her of she would reject offer of that magazine. She doesn't do a lot of modeling but i know how much she loves it." Rose handed them packed croissants. "Your grandparents are not home but you can come upstairs anyway if you want."

"Sure. Thanks, auntie!"

"Thank you." Felix nodded to woman before he and Bridgette left the bakery and went upstairs, to Dupain-Cheng's kitchen. "Don't you think your aunt spoils us too much?" asked boy, peering into his bag, filled with bunch of croissants.

"Well, definetly not as much as my grandparents. They would add bunch of cookies and maybe a fruit tart and who knows what else." laughed Bridgette, preparing them some tea. Felix nodded in agreement.

After a while, girl started humming to herself cheerfully. As a daughter of musician, she wasn't used to a complete silence and often felt the need to fill it; and while small-talk was in Felix's opinion a very annoying filler, he actually enjoyed her humming. Especially since they had suprisingly similar taste in music.

So, her crooning was sort of compromise for them.

When the tea was ready, they moved everything to a coffee table next to the couch where they sit down.

"How was your journey?" asked Bridgette, watching him nibbling on croissant.

"Good, to be honest." Felix shrugged his shoulders. "For last two years mother was too busy to go with us on any vacation so it was nice change this year. We visited a couple of cities in Germany." he sipped his tea and continued. Since he actually enjoyed the trip, he let himself talk more than usuall, willing to share with Bridgette good parts of the it.

When he felt her leaning on him, he stopped the story, ready to give her an unamused glare; but it turned into suprized one when he noticed she felt asleep.

"Rude." he commented, with no response.

She probably came back from her trip yesterday or so, and didn't have enough sleep after, he guessed.

But then, why did she invite him? Did she missed him that much?

Well, since he was so unusally willing to meet her, she might too...

Besides, feeling her warm body next to his was suprisingly pleasant. He shyly rested his head on hers, feeling wave of calmness coming to him.

That was weird feeling, coming from a simple touch.

Felix was definetly not a clingy person. Quite opposite, he usually was the one to avoid contact with anyone; especially with people he didn't know well.

He accepted a long time ago that his father was very expressive with his feelings and almost didn't mind his constant hugs, hair messing and other little touches that Adrien just couldn't resist.

His mother, on the other hand, understood Felix's nature and wasn't so generous with gestures of affection; she knew that whenever he would need some, he could come to her, usually to just sit next to and lean on her while watching movies or to nap on her lap while she could scratch his head.

Other than that, he usually didn't feel like needing any affection.

Until now, apparently.

"Are you purring?..." asked Bridgette drowsily.

"What?" Felix quickly raised his head, feeling caught red handed. He realized with horror that indeed, he was purring.

How was it even working? He was not transformed!

"No. Definetly not." answered, forcing himself to stop purring. It worked, luckily. "I'm not a cat."

"Oh." girl realized what happened and jumped back. "Sorry! I'm so sorry for falling asleep on you!"

"That's okay. I don't mind." actually, he felt a little empty now, not feeling her warmth. That was new; he usually got more than enough of attention and never lacked it.

She smiled with relief, making Felix wonder if he really was that bad with all that avoiding touch. He probably was; she was just more affectionate person, like his father.

"Anyway, i'm sorry, i shouldn't fall asleep." she sighed with abashment.

"You're just tired, that's all. You should get some proper sleep, preferably not on my shoulder."

"I know, i know. I just missed you." she admited, smiling. "You're my friend, after all."

How could she say something like this so easily?

"I'll come back tomorrow if you want, but please rest now." he got up from the couch. "Thank you for tea and croissants." he hesitated for a moment but eventually bent over girl and pressed his lips to her head. "See you tomorrow, Bridgette." said, leaving her with an absolute shock on her face.

~~~

You know that moment when you don't contact with your crush for a while and you didn't actually thought about them a lot but then you meet them/they text you and you realize how much you missed them? Yes, me too. And Felix too (even if he doesn't realize he has a crush on Bri)

Btw, Bri is fine, she might just pass out for a while out of shock and wake up, feeling like the happiest gal on Earth

[noona-clock]

Donuts, Cakes and Kyungsoo

Hiiiiii ! Would I be able to request some kind of enemies to lovers scenario for any of the EXO boys~~? Thank youuuuu 💖💖

Of course, m’dear! This is such a fun idea! I’ve been on a Kyungsoo roll these days and I really don’t write often enough for this boy, so I hope this is okay! Enjoy! 

Genre: Fluff 

Pairing: Kyungsoo x You 

By Admin T

You stared out at the window to look at the new bakery across from you. You huffed, seeing the two customers walk in. You eyed them, talking excitedly as they walked inside to look at the pastries, the donuts and the simple decoration that adorned his bakery. 

Yours was the only one in the neighborhood for years. It’d became the local go-to bakery for anything: croissants, homemade bread, bagels and even cakes. You knew your customers by name and one of the walls in your bakery were covered with thank you notes and pictures of customers that have been coming regularly that you’d called them your friends. You’d started it as a hobby but the continuous outpouring of love and excitement over your baked goods only motivated you to keep going. 

Except, you couldn’t handle the fact that you had a competitor. It was bound to happen soon, really. The neighborhood was growing, more businesses were coming and while you welcomed the rush hour during the morning, you still looked forward to seeing your regulars throughout the day. 

So, at first, you ignored him. You ignored his bakery and figured that things would go back to the way it always was. 

“You should really try the quiches across the street, Y/N,” said one of your regulars, a grandma that took her coffee and toast with jam in the mornings. You’d been refilling her coffee cup with a smile but it faltered as soon as you heard what she’d said. 

“Quiches?” you repeated, making sure not to spill coffee. 

The grandma nodded innocently with a smile. “i don’t think I’ve seen you make those before. I tried the ham and cheese but there’s many other flavors, so I have to go back again!” 

You blinked and nodded amiably like you always did. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“He’s got donuts now!” piped one of the kids as they looked at you from behind the counter. It was one of the neighborhood kids who came by for their usual afternoon snack. His mother opened up a bakery tab, if you will, to let her son stop by so she can pick him up after school while he enjoyed one of your baked goods. 

“Ah, but I thought you said my donuts were the best?” you smirked teasingly even though your competitive nature was already boiling inside of you. 

“He put cereal and gummy bears on it!” he said excitedly as he took the cookie and immediately bit it. 

You eyed him playfully. “I don’t think those belong on donuts.” 

“Well, I do!” he mumbled, his mouth full. 

“That recipe is not yours to take!” you said, walking into his bakery one night. Your regulars loved to talk, of course, and you couldn’t help but overhearing that his latest batch of homemade bread tasted very much like yours, but not. You battled with yourself and told yourself that you wouldn’t be petty but curiosity and competitiveness got the best of you and you stormed his store right as he was about to close for the day. 

His eyebrows raised as soon as he saw you and he looked at you blankly. Even with all the gossip and talk you’ve heard in the neighborhood, you’ve never really seen him until now. Both of you stared at each other for a few silent moments until he uttered, “They did say that what I made tasted like something you made.” He shrugged nonchalantly and that irked you even further. 

“Yah, I know you just moved here but I don’t think you realize -- .” 

“That your bakery is the best one in the neighborhood?” he interrupted, walking around the counter to walk towards you, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “That I’ve got no chance against you?” 

“Against me?” you repeated, only now realizing that this person might’ve also felt threatened. 

“That’s all anyone can ever talk about. Your bakery.” 

You licked your lips and you took a breath, unaware at how closely he was watching you. “Yours is all anyone can talk about at mine. Your bakery.” 

“Game on.” 

One morning, he’d donned his apron and a smile and started handing out mini cupcakes on the street. Another day, you had a special for all the kids in the neighborhood. Another afternoon, he’d created homemade lemonade. The next week, you perfected and launched your tiramisu. 

The neighborhood was abuzz. They’d head over to Kyungsoo’s then to yours and vice versa. They’d have breakfast with you but have lunch with Kyungsoo. They’d leave their kids at your bakery but have a snack with Kyungsoo. The battle didn’t seem as if it were ending anytime soon until you saw him knocking on your door. 

You’d been prepping before opening your store and your brow furrowed once you saw him waving at you. You wiped your hands on a nearby towel before opening the door hesitantly. 

“I’m closed for the day,” he said before you could say anything. You only looked at him in confusion in return. 

“Okay, uh...” 

“You’ve got another hour until you open, right?” 

You nodded slowly. 

“How about we bake something together?” 

You were sure that it was all a trick. You’d hesitantly let him inside, figuring that this was another one of those games that you both played. But, he was cooperative and helpful, even. He was quiet, yet attentive. The result was a lemon meringue pie. It was something you’d both hadn’t made before so you figured that if you both failed, it would’ve been a collective failure. Instead, it was a collective success. 

You displayed it on the counter and it was gone within a few hours. You’d thought he’d make it too. You waited a day. A week. But, nothing happened. So, during the your next day off, you locked your bakery, walked across the street and knocked on his door before he opened the store. 

He opened the door with a hint of a smile and despite you thinking that you didn’t want to be there, you smiled right back and asked, “Want to try baking new today?” 

“You’re happy, aren’t you?” grinned the Grandma as she sipped her coffee as you handed her her usual toast and jam. 

You blinked in surprise and laughed softly. “Happy?” you repeated. 

She nodded with a teasing smile. “You’ve been baking more often and you hadn’t been frowning like you have been for weeks.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. “I’ve been frowning?” 

“Ever since Kyungsoo came here,” she whispered with a wink. “You’re dating someone, aren’t you?” 

"W-well, uh...” 

She patted your hand lovingly. “I promise i won’t tell anyone, dear.” 

“Word on the street is that we’re dating,” smirked Kyungsoo as he leaned on the kitchen counter while the cookies baked in the oven. You’d both opted for something easy this morning as you brewed coffee for you both. 

“I heard,” you replied, smirking right back at him. 

He bit his lip and paused. “Is there anything wrong with that?” he asked slowly as his eyes found yours. “Us? Dating?” 

You felt your cheeks blush without your permission  and it was your turn to look at him shyly. “I guess not.” 

“So,” he started, his smile growing. “If I asked you out, you’d say yes?” 

The oven dinged. 

The cookies were ready. 

And you answered, “Yes.” 

You heard the bells ring as someone walked in your store but you found yourself trapped. “Someone walked in,” you muttered in between kisses as Kyungsoo nibbled on your lips. He’d pushed you against the counter, his hands on either side of your waist so that you couldn’t move. 

He murmured something underneath his breath, too preoccupied with anything else other than you. You let out a soft sigh, almost falling into his trap once more before you chuckled softly and placed your hand on his chest to push him away gently. 

“Y/N AND KYUNGSOO K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” came one of the neighborhood’s kids singsong voice that filled your store followed by a chorus of adult laughter. You felt your cheeks flush and stepped away from an also laughing Kyungsoo, his hand over his face as you attempted to look as if you’d just been baking and nothing else. 

You both emerged from the back of the store a bit shyly despite your red faces. You took your usual place behind the cashier counter while Kyungsoo started waving at the customers. 

“So, what would you like today?” 

[ylla]

Friday Night Gurus - Chapter 4

Series: JJBA Ships: josuyasu, koichi/yukako (others will eventually happen too, but im tagging as i go) Tags: celebrity au, modern au, pining, recreational drug use (smoking that wacky tabaccy), lots of talking and cuddles in this one, lads Rating: E

AO3 link

HAHA, SO MY COMPUTER ATE THIS CHAPTER AND WHAT I HAD FOR TMBTP, SO, I HAD TO RESTART FROM SCRATCH. i rewrote this garbage dump from memory, and here we are. TMBTP is forthcoming once i stop weeping. may the powers that be take pity on this elderly woman (ed. note – author is only 24).

shoutout to TheSmuttiestPrincess and their fic Talk To Me That Way I Like for introducing me to praise kink!okuyasu, which is something i never knew i needed until i read it.

as always, comment the fic, kudos the fic, and bookmark the fic to see more of the same fic content.

Josuke woke up the next morning feeling like someone had cracked him across the face with a baseball bat. Fucking storms causing pressure headaches; he’d meet Mother Nature in the pit if she was a real person. He would have gotten up to get medicine if he hadn’t been trapped in the arms of a particularly buff octopus. Okuyasu was spooning him, legs and arms firmly wrapped around Josuke to prevent him from escaping (not that Okuyasu had to worry about that to begin with). Josuke could feel Oku’s slow, even breathing on his neck and it was giving him goosebumps. It felt like it was too early to exist. “What fuckin’ time is it,” he muttered to himself. Blindly, Josuke groped for his phone, but couldn’t seem to find it.  “S'about 8:30.” Josuke didn’t hear Okuyasu speak so much as he felt him. “You awake?” Josuke whispered. “Mmh.” Josuke made to turn over, but Okuyasu held him in place. “Lemme roll over.” “I got morning breath,” Oku’s voice was slurred with sleep, voice rougher than usual. “I don’t care, dude. I do too.” Josuke tried rolling over again, but Okuyasu steadfastly held him in place. A power struggle ensued; Josuke valiantly did his best to break free, but Okuyasu had both the upper hand and strength to keep him in place. He felt Oku’s chest shaking with laughter, quiet chuckles in his ear. “I swear to God,” he huffed after a few fruitless minutes of wrestling, resigning himself to Little Spoon status, “I’m firing Polnareff.” That just made Okuyasu chuckle even harder, “No you won’t, that’d break his croissant-lovin’ heart.” He shifted closer to Josuke, and put his face into the junction where his neck met his shoulder. “Hey, uh, is it okay if I…?” Okuyasu faltered, nervous.

“You can kiss me, goofball. We’re dating, remember?”

Josuke could feel Okuyasu face flush before he zealously trailed kisses from Josuke’s shoulder, up his neck, to his corner of his jaw, settling on his earlobe which he nibbled on slightly. It sent shockwaves through his body, and Josuke couldn’t help but hiss.

Okuyasu backed off, “Oh shit, sorry—“

“No no don’t be,” Josuke rubbed the arm that held onto him, ��It’s just been like, a long time since I’ve done anything like this. And, uh,” Josuke cleared his throat, “that felt really good, s-so, you know.” It was his turn to flush, and his face was scarlet.

“I just don’t wanna fuck this up. I really like you,” Okuyasu’s voice was small.

“You ain’t gonna fuck this up, I promise. Unless you wanna like, put something fucked up in my ass, like a centipede—“

“EW!” Okuyasu sounded horrified, “That’s disgusting. You just killed my boner, Higashikata.”

He had killed his own one man salute too, but that had been the plan. “Is that why you didn’t want me to roll over?” Josuke asked slyly.

��Uhm. Maybe?” Josuke went to turn towards him, but Okuyasu was obstinate. “I also don’t wanna smell ya mornin’ breath! It’s hot like thunder.”

“Oh my god, you stubborn mule,” Josuke tried to kick him, but Oku just wrapped his legs around Josuke’s tighter. “If we get up and brush our teeth, can we like, face each other?”

“Hm. Hm. I guess.” Okuyasu finally relinquished his iron-clad grip. Josuke sprang up, free to piss and scrub his nasty breath away.

Josuke was rinsing his mouth out when Okuyasu trudged in after him. “About time, lazy ass—“ He raised his head to get a good look at his boyfriend and would have spewed water everywhere if he hadn’t spit it out moments before, “God almighty, Oku, you look terrible.”

Okuyasu looked like he had been rode hard and put up wet. Cheek still bruised from Keicho’s left hook, eyes bloodshot, saddled with bags underneath them, skin looking a little colorless, “I feel terrible. This always happens if I’m out in the rain for too long.”

Josuke moved to let him brush his teeth before questioning him further. When Okuyasu finished, Josuke passed him a towel to wipe his mouth off, “How long were you out there?”

“Dunno. An hour? Two hours?”

“What the fuck, why didn’t you just call me??”

Okuyasu threw his hands up, “I did! I called like, at least 30 times! Your phone was dead or somethin’.”

“Oh shit,” Josuke completely forgot, “I turned it off before passing out on the couch.” He cringed, “Sorry.”

“S’fine,” Okuyasu rubbed one of his eyes, “I was close to just bustin’ a window and comin’ in that way.”

Josuke snorted, “Yeah that would’ve been great. Pissing myself when I wake up to a big ass, sopping wet burglar looming over me. Real romantic.”

“Fuck you dude, I was worried.”

“Worried?” Josuke arched an eyebrow, “Why were you worried?”

Okuyasu shifted from one foot to the other, “You weren’t answerin’, and I knew you were probably upset. I just—You know—“ he gestured vaguely, “jus’ wanted to make sure you were okay.”

That made Josuke’s heart turn over, “Aww, you big sweetie.”

Being called a sweetie made Okuyasu roll his eyes, unable to belie the blush on his face, “Shut up.” He threw the towel back down on the sink and rubbed the back of his neck, “So uh, can I kiss you?”

“You don’t gotta keep asking me that.”

Okuyasu fidgeted, “Sorry. I’m nervous that I’m gonna accidentally make ya uncomfortable, so I feel better when I ask.”

Josuke stepped close to him, placing a hand on his cheek, “You won’t make me uncomfortable. If ya ever did, I’d tell ya.” He stroked his thumb over Oku’s poor, bruised face, “But if it’ll make you feel better, then ask away.”

“Okay.” With that, Okuyasu gave him a kiss on the lips. It was sweet and soft, and it made Josuke’s chest soar. Oku hesitantly wrapped his arms around Josuke’s neck, hands in his hair; Josuke took that as a sign to pull his hips flush against his own and slide his tongue into Okuyasu’s mouth. His actions elicited a deep groan from his boyfriend, who awarded him by gently backing Josuke against the wall. It went from chaste and slow to messy and urgent in almost an instant.

“Fuck,” Josuke breathed as Oku pulled away to put teeth against his neck. When Okuyasu stopped momentarily, Josuke wove his fingers through his hair, “Leave marks.” Oku did as instructed; Josuke couldn’t help but grind his rising erection against Oku. “You’re too good at this,” he moaned, arching his back. That seemed to trigger something in his boyfriend. Okuyasu growled, tugging Josuke’s shirt off of him so he could get better access to his chest. There was a twitching cock pressed up against Josuke where there wasn’t a moment before. He was doing something right.

“God, keep talking,” Okuyasu rasped against Josuke’s collarbone, raking his teeth against it.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he panted. Okuyasu broke off momentarily to rip his own shirt off, before going back to leaving bruises on Josuke’s chest. Josuke ghosted fingers up Okuyasu’s sides; he really was sexy.

This was quickly turning into something a lot more than just a hot and heavy makeout session. Not that Josuke minded, considering how the only thing he had on his mind were how badly he wanted Okuyasu’s mouth on his dick at that very moment. Okuyasu seemed to read his mind, and looked Josuke in the eye with a single-minded ferocity that sent chills down his spine.

Which was ruined when both of their stomachs rumbled audibly.

They stared at each other for a moment before they busted out laughing; Josuke had to hold Okuyasu up to keep him from tumbling into the floor. It took a few minutes, but once their hooting died down, Josuke still held onto him, resting his cheek against the side of his head. “We should probably get food,” he said.

“Yeah…raincheck on this?”

“Raincheck.”

Okuyasu straightened up, pecking Josuke on the cheek, “You got pancake mix?”

There was no pankcake mix, but Okuyasu did a bang up job on eggs and bacon, so breakfast wasn’t a lost cause. Really though, anyone who remotely knows their way around the kitchen is a great cook in Josuke’s eyes. It was still pouring the rain, so no weed smoking for them, which was fine since they needed to be sober for the conversation that needed to take place.

“So,” Josuke started, “Does anyone know you’re gay?” They were back in his room, laying on the bed under one of his cotton blankets. Okuyasu laid on his stomach with a pillow propping his head up; Josuke laid on his side facing him.

“Yeah,” Oku shifted to look at him better, “Everyone in the band knows, plus Tonio and Hazamada. Akira too.”

“Really?”

“Unfortunately. I didn’t, uh, come out in the best way…”

Josuke frowned, “You don’t gotta tell me—“

Okuyasu waved a hand, “Nah, s’fine.” He rolled over onto his back, “See, like, I dated this girl when I was 19. Which, she was the only person I ever dated before you, so you’re my first real relationship. You should feel special,“ Oku looked at Josuke through his lashes, grin on his face. Josuke blushed furiously and punched his arm, because he did. Chuckling, Okuyasu continued, “She ended up cheating on me after like a year of being together, which was a relief because I finally had a good excuse to break up with her—“

“Damn. That’s awful,” Josuke scrunched his face up, “How’d you survive pretending to be straight for that long?”

“We were actually good friends before we dated, and she told Keicho that she was madly in love with me. So he, being my big bro who didn’t know I was gay, but did know I’d never had sex, hooked us up,” Okuyasu gave a wry smile, “Didn’t even fuck her. Ended up losing my v-card to some guy in a dirty bathroom after a show.” He rubbed his face at the memory, “Anyways, so like, I was relieved, but kinda upset because you know, she was still someone I cared about and the breakup was really messy. She was cryin’ and apologizin’, all that bullshit. So they, Keicho, Yuuya, and Akira, all decided to get me shitfaced at this huge party some guy Akira knew was throwin’,”

His eyes grew distant as he recounted the story. “So I get pretty hammered. I dunno if ya noticed, but I tend to uh, get nervous when flirting or kissing—“

“Really? Didn’t have a clue,” Josuke said dryly.

“Shut the hell up. Anyways,” he absentmindedly rubbed the hickies on his neck that Josuke gave him as a thank you for breakfast, “when I’m drunk, I ain’t like that. So there was this cute dude, and I thought everyone else had fucked off to do their own thing. I decided, in my dumbass drunken haze, that kissing him was a good idea—“

Josuke gasped, “Oh no—“

Okuyasu held up his hands, “That’s not the bad part. He was into it. We ended up making out and then he like, dragged me off to some room. What I didn’t notice was that Yuuya witnessed all of this, and went off to get Keicho to come save me, I guess. Long story short, the dude sucked me off, and then after I started goin’ down on him, Keicho and Yuuya busted into the room and pulled me off of him—“

“No!” Josuke covered his mouth with his hand, “They didn’t hurt ya, did they?”

“It wasn’t me they hurt,” Okuyasu chuckled without a trace of humor, “Both of them started whooping this dude’s ass. Me, a damn moron, starts bawlin’ like a stupid baby. I was buggin’ the fuck out.”

“So they thought—“

“That he forced me to? Yeah. It was bad.”

Josuke sucked air through his teeth, “So, what happened next?”

“I actually don’t really remember anything after that. Good ol’ Yuuya filled me in the next mornin’ when I had the worst hangover of my life, the bastard,” Okuyasu scowled. “I ended up crying so hard, I upchucked all over my clothes, so they stripped me down to my pants and hauled my drunk ass out of there. The next mornin’, they had a lot of questions, and I had to answer ‘em.”

“What did you say?”

“That I liked dudes, and everything that had happened last night was because I wanted it to,” Okuyasu sighed, “It wasn’t a… fun conversation. I was cryin’ again, like a fuckin’ idiot, and that made my head hurt worse. Keicho was pissed, and Yuuya wasn’t happy either.”

“Not over you likin’ guys, right?” Josuke clarified.

“No, not over me likin’ dudes. It was over me putting myself in that situation in the first place, like a fool. ‘Bad things coulda happened to you, what if we hadn’t had been there, blah blah blah’. Keicho really reamed my ass over it.”

“They had a point,” Josuke said, “so what happened after that?”

“Nothing really. Keicho said he didn’t hate me for being gay, he just hated me for being stupid. Yuuya said that he didn’t care, as long as I’m happy, it’s whatever to him. Akira was a dick, but Akira is always a dick.”

“Your brother is such an asshole.”

Okuyasu shrugged, “Yeah, but he’s always been like that.”

“What about everyone else?”

“As for Hazamada, Yukako, and Tonio knowin’, Hazamada was home when it all went down, so he heard. Tonio knows because I told him, same with Yukako.”

Josuke nodded, then scooted close to Okuyasu and planted a smooch on his cheek, “Thanks for tellin’ me that.”

“You’re welcome,” Oku turned onto his side to look Josuke in the face, “now your turn. Who knows you’re gay?”

“Basically everyone in my personal life. Like, friends and family.” Josuke brushed a stray hair out of his face, “It’s kind of an open secret, I guess? Most people in the industry assume I am.” Josuke grimaced, “It doesn’t stop me getting hit on by women, or rubbed up on, unfortunately.”

Okuyasu chortled, “Yikes. I’m lucky I’m ugly.”

Josuke jabbed him in the ribs with his fingers, “You’re not ugly, stop talking about yourself like that. Anyways,” Josuke huffed, “I came out to my mom and grandpa when I was like 14. They were trying to set me up with the daughter of one of my mom’s friends. I panicked and blurted it out in car on the way to dinner one night.”

Oku cringed, “Ouch. What happened?”

“They were like, oh okay. And then mom started plotting to get me set up with the son of one of her friend’s,” Josuke shook his head, “They were both cool about it, told me they loved me and supported me. The Joestar side of my family was also chill about it. That didn’t surprise me, since Jotaro, my nephew, has a husband, Polnareff has a boyfriend, and my cousin Johnny is seeing some Italian guy.”

“That’s good though. I’m happy for ya,” Okuyasu propped his head up with his arm, “So, you’ve dated guys before right?”

“Yep. I’ve had a few boyfriends, last one was about…” Josuke looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember, “It’s been two years…? Yeah,” he nodded, “Two years ago. That didn’t end well, so I kinda swore off relationships until I met you.”

“Really?? Why me?”

Josuke shrugged, “Dunno, you’re just special.” He wasn’t too surprised to see tears flood Okuyasu’s eyes, given how emotional he could get.

“Jooosukeeeeee,” he whined, tears rolling down his face.

“Don’t cry, you marshmallow fuck,” Josuke wiped the tears away.

It took a minute, as it always did, to get Okuyasu to calm down. Oku pulled Josuke into his arms, big giddy smile on his face, “That last guy must’ve been awful if you think I’m better than he is.”

“First of all, you’re amazing so never say never say that about yourself again, asshole. Second, yeah, he was massive penis.”

“What happened? You don’t gotta tell me if it’s bad,” Okuyasu quickly amended.

“I was just partying waaay too hard when we were together and he was like, an enabler? I think that’s what Koichi called him. We were together a little over 10 months, and during that time I stayed super high or really drunk. It wasn’t good. And he was a huge asshole, and treated me like shit, so,” Josuke shrugged again.

“I’ll kick his ass if I ever see him.”

Josuke snorted at Okuyasu’s threat, “You don’t even know who he is.”

“Do I care? I’ll drop that motherfucker in a heartbeat.”

“You fuckin’ dork,” Josuke kissed Oku on the jaw, “It’s fine, I moved onto bigger and better things. I got you now.”

He felt tears; Okuyasu was crying again. “Damn right you do,” he sniffed.

“Don’t cry again. Come on, let’s watch something.”

“Josuke, wake up.”

“Mmh.”

“Josuke!”

“Mmmmmmh.”

“Wake up, you’re drooling on me again!”

Josuke’s eyes snapped open, “Goddamnit, sorry. I’m so gross when I sleep,” he sat up to wipe drool off of his face and Okuyasu. His headache had eventually gotten the best of him, and he’d fallen asleep with his head resting on Okuyasu’s chest. It wasn’t completely his fault, Oku start playing with his hair while they watched some bad show about vampires, and it relaxed Josuke so much, he passed out. And when he’s that relaxed, Josuke can’t control the flow of spit coming out of his mouth.

“It’s fine dude, I still think you’re cute. How’s your head?”

“Better,” he settled back down into Oku’s arms, “How’s your everything?”

“Eh, I’ll live.”

“Do you wanna switch places? You can sleep on me.”

“Nah, my glasses dig into my face if I try to cuddle like that while watchin’ somethin’. I’m good like this,” he resumed running his fingers through Josuke’s hair.

“You’re gonna put my ass back to sleep doing that. Turn it on something I’ll pay attention to.”

Okuyasu grabbed the PS4 controller, “Whaddya in the mood for?”

“A tacky reality show,” Josuke yawned, “Let’s binge Rock of Love.”

Josuke picked up his phone off of his nightstand as Okuyasu loaded the show, having rescued it from the corner he threw it into earlier. After listening to Okuyasu’s panicked voicemails and reading the avalanche of worried texts he got from him, Josuke made sure to give his boyfriend extra kisses. He felt guilty for causing that much distress.

“Hey, Oku.”

“Yeah?”

“How open do you wanna be about…us?”

“I dunno man, I ain’t got much experience in this,” Okuyasu scratched his chin with his free hand, “What do you wanna do?”

Josuke thought for a moment, “Well, I’m not ready to be out in like, the public eye. But I wanna tell our friends and family.”

“Sounds good,” Okuyasu kissed the top of his head, “I uh, already may have told people?”

Josuke froze up, “Who?”

“Everyone who already knows about me….Y-you ain’t mad about that, right??” Okuyasu’s fingers stopped moving.

He relaxed, “No, it’s okay. I figured you’d want them to know anyways”

Josuke heard a sigh of relief, “Okay, cool. Also I took a video of you sleepin’ on me earlier, that’s what I sent to them.”

“Oh god,” Josuke groaned, “Don’t tell me you could see the drool in it.”

Okuyasu grabbed his phone and pulled up Snapchat, “I’m an asshole, not cruel.” He had posted the video to his story; it was just of him playing with Josuke’s hair as he slept, with a little heart sticker in the corner. It was adorable.

“Shit, that’s cute. What was everyone’s reaction?”

“Uhh, got congratulations from Tonio, Hazamada sent me a snap of him miming throwing up, Yuuya asked if we banged yet, Yukako told me to not tonguefuck you in front of her, and Keicho only sent me that straight-faced emoji, which is better than I expected. Since you know, after last night—“

“That fistfight was over me, wasn’t it?”

“Ehhh, kinda?” Oku sounded like he didn’t want to talk about it, “Mostly about how I was with you all the time and he didn’t trust you, it was fuckin’ stupid. I don’t think it was really about you? I think it was about like, me not wanting to be up his ass all the time anymore. I dunno, it was typical Keicho bullshit.”

Josuke grumbled under his breath about kicking Keicho’s ass, but Okuyasu flicked his forehead, “I got it handled, don’t worry ya pretty head over it.”

Too late, Josuke groused to himself. Instead of bitching about it, Josuke opened up Snapchat on his phone. He started recording, “Hey Oku, kiss me.”

The video of them kissing was worth the shitstorm of replies, texts, and phone calls Josuke had to deal with for the rest of the day.

It was late, and the rain still hadn’t petered out. “You’re staying tonight, right?” Josuke asked, speaking softly into Oku’s ear. This time, he had won out on being Big Spoon.

“Do you want me to?” came the sleepy reply.

“Uh, duh. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want ya to.”

“Don’t be a dick, Higashikata. I’ll roll my fatass out of here too quick to talk about.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“Me too. ‘Sides, we all know you got the fat ass in this relationship.” Okuyasu cackled despite Josuke jabbing him in the ribs, “What?? It’s a compliment.”

Josuke pouted, “You’re lucky I like you, Nijimura, or I’d push your ass out of bed.”

“Don’t do that, I don’t got the cushion like you do, it’d hurt—“

He launched Okuyasu off the bed as hard as he could. Oku landed in a heap on the floor, snorting and rolling around like a pig in a sty. He peered down at his porcine boyfriend, “You’re a mess, you farm animal.”

Josuke miscalculated; Okuyasu grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him down on top of him, knocking their heads together. Another power struggle took place, with Okuyasu winning yet again by tangling himself firmly around Josuke. With some effort, Oku pulled down a pillow and blanket, and wrapped it around them snuggly. “Bedtime, Jojo,” he kissed the top of Josuke’s head.

The floor wasn’t very comfortable, but when Okuyasu started snoring, Josuke followed him to dreamland.

The next morning, Tamami accidentally nailed Josuke in the dick when he stepped on what he assumed was a pile of blankets on the floor. Tamami was kicked in the cock and balls by an enraged Josuke, then booted downstairs. Okuyasu bypassed laughing and went straight to crying, tears of mirth leaked from his eyes. He promptly shut up when Josuke told him to kiss it and make it feel better.

Maybe next time.