#I really don’t like how this turned out art-wise but it’s making me giggle so I’m posting it anyway

[hana-bobo-finch]

olimar in olimar’s comeback day 6

[toxicanonymity]

Black Math. Left in Lincoln, pt. 5

8.6k words. dark dbf!Joel Miller x virgin!reader story master list / spotify playlist / joel master

🍑 amazing art by @bonezone44 💙

Now spicier courtesy of the label His smile faded as he looked at you, then he added hoarsely, “God, if you knew how many times I’d thought about you.” There wasn’t so much as a hint of shame in his voice. It had the warmth in your cheeks traveling down, down, down. . . “We’re almost there, baby, but we gotta do it right.  We’re almost there, I promise.” He reached into his pants to tuck in his shirt and adjusted himself while he was there. Your eyes fixated on the bulge in his jeans. “God damn,” he exhaled.  “Turns me on thinkin’ about it.”  

WARNINGS: I8+, Not graphic, but it gets twisted. Lots of plot, including flashbacks, disturbing implicit horror (really), angst, brief self-shaming, big girthy age gap (reader is legal the whole time), pet names and praise, toxic dark joel/fluff, family fluff, gaslighting, manipulation, yearning, pining, obsession, grinding, mutual touching, oral f receiving.  NO use of Y/N

A/N: This picks up right after part 4. Word-count wise, parts 1-4 were like half of it. There are two more after this, and I wrote a lot on those before finalizing pt. 5. Thank you all for your patience and enthusiasm. It's so rewarding to see people discuss. Additional thanks to @dark-scape for your help, Raider Joel for your support. I couldn't get the text off bold fyi.

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

You awoke to the sound of stairs creaking under heavy steps, a sound you didn’t often hear at home.  You blinked awake, still disoriented as your eyes focused.   The vanity, the dresser, the empty glass on the nightstand. The closet. Your mind was catching up when the bedroom door opened.  Joel was fully dressed with his hair combed back.  His brows were knitted in concern  as usual, but his eyes brightened when he saw you waking up.  

You lifted your head and squinted at him as you propped yourself up with one elbow. 

Joel’s tone was as cheerful as you could ever expect to hear it. “Mornin’, sleepyhead. Makin’ sure you're okay.”

“What time is it?” 

“Li’l past noon. Still sleepin’? I’ll leave ya ‘lone.”

“I should get up.” You put your head back down on the pillow.  

He came over and sat down on the bed. “How’d ya sleep?” 

“Good, once I fell asleep.” 

“Does the trick, don’t it?” He nodded to the empty glass on the nightstand. 

“Yeah,” you laughed. 

“Dr. Miller, at your service.” 

You giggled again and his eyes glazed over as they fell on your smile, your chest, then met your eyes.  He leaned over and put his elbow down on the far side of you. 

“Well, you’ve made me believe in beauty sleep, peaches.” He put a hand on your shoulder, dwarfing it with his massive palm as he brushed your skin with his thumb.   “Always a beauty, but ya wake up even prettier.”  Your face got hot and you looked away shyly. 

Joel bit his lip, holding back a smile. He traced the outer curve of your ear with his fingers.  “Hungry?” 

“Kinda.” 

“I’ll go make ya somethin’.”  He looked at you warmly then kissed you on the forehead before he went back downstairs. 

—-----

You took a shower and got dressed.  As your hands glided over your soapy body, your palms lingered on your breasts. You imagined Joel showering and realized you couldn’t picture him shirtless.  While you were picking out something to wear, you got to thinking again about the closet full of clothes. They were mostly dresses.  You put on one of several soft, casual floral ones about knee length.  

Before you closed the closet door, you stopped yourself.  You had to face it – the dress you saw in the dark the night before.  The one that kept you up.  Heart racing, you reached into the far right corner and fumbled with a big, satin hanger.  You squinted your eyes almost shut as you carefully brought the dress out where you could see it.  You looked at it blurry through your lashes.  It was more cream than white.  

When you finally opened your eyes all the way, an unexpected sense of relief soothed your chest as if the dress were made of love and meant for you. It was simple, but breathtaking. Not the rigid, intimidating garment your anxiety had envisioned.  It had a simple A-line silhouette. The high collar and long sleeves were a lace outer dress laid over a solid one with a sweetheart neckline. The skirt was flowy and came down around mid-calf.  

It gave you butterflies and you couldn’t help but imagine Joel went out of his way to get this.  It felt like a wishful conclusion, like a romantic story you wanted to believe.  You tried to talk yourself away from it, not wanting to assume.  But at the same time, you still couldn’t figure who would have left it behind.  Your heart sank for a moment when you wondered if it could have been intended for Tess, but Ellie always said they were platonic and even slept in separate rooms.  Not only were the clothes not anything Ellie or Tess would wear, but Ellie nor Tess ever lived in this house.  They were gone before Joel moved down the street.  You put the dress way back in the corner of the closet where it came from. 

—------------------

When Joel first settled into the community, he moved into a house near Abe’s, clear on the other side of the neighborhood.  You met Ellie first.  You were in your backyard gardening when she appeared out of nowhere and asked what you were doing. She was a little younger than you, but much more experienced in life, having been out in the world.  You were shy to ask her about the horrors of the infected, not wanting to upset her.  But she told you all about it anyway – the different kinds, the way they connected underground.  You were grateful for your life and recognized the privilege in growing up like you did.  Growing up at all.  

Bill used to remind you how lucky you were, especially as a teenager when you would have fits about wanting to go out into the world.  Somehow, learning from Ellie in more graphic detail about the state of the world didn’t squash your desire to get out there one day.  You asked her all about the quarantine zones and FEDRA school, and those sounded fun, even though she didn’t depict them that way.  She asked you a million questions about your little community, too. 

You never saw much of Joel until after Ellie left.  Frank worried about Joel being all alone, having experienced so much loss, so they invited him over for dinner.  The first time, Joel was surprised when you answered the door.  He apologized and looked around as though he had made some kind of mistake.  Then it occurred to you he might have forgotten your name.  You couldn’t even remember a time you had formally met, so you introduced yourself.  

He took a few seconds.   “Right, sorry,” he mumbled.  “I thought��well, Ellie, uh—I guess I thought you were younger.” 

Joel was polite and didn’t talk much.  Bill liked that about him, so they started having him over for dinner regularly.  The two of you didn’t share much conversation, but when you did, Joel seemed in awe of how protected you grew up.  It made you self-conscious.  It wasn’t something you liked about yourself.  When Joel noticed this, he clarified it was a really good thing.  Rare.  The terror of the world affected most people for the worse. 

—

Joel didn’t move into his current house until after the Adlers died and someone needed to take care of the peach and apple orchards.  He had already been helping them tend the orchards and also helped fix things up around the property as the Adlers’ age caught up with them.  

When Joel moved, Frank had the idea to bake something to welcome him to your family’s end of the community.  You made a blueberry cobbler. Frank combed his hair and tucked in a plain, button-up shirt.  He didn’t ask you to put on a dress, but you did because Frank always had fun getting spruced.  He liked to have a reason, even if the occasion was completely manufactured, like the nights he made dinner and claimed his restaurant had a dress code. You couldn’t deny it made for a nice change of pace, and Bill’s eyes brightened, too despite his obligatory grumbling. 

When you were ready to take the cobbler to Joel, Bill said the two of you looked like you were going to a wake. 

“It’s nice to dress up,” Frank protested.  “It shows we care.” 

When you and Frank were about to walk over there, Frank started tearing up thinking about the Adlers.  They were your neighbors for as long as you could remember. “I can’t, I can’t do it,” Frank said.  Bill didn’t want to do it either.  He wasn’t planning on it to begin with.  

“I’ll take it,” you offered.  So they sent you.  

—

You walked up to Joel’s (new) house, stopping to admire the gambrel roof.  The front door was newly black and smelled like paint, so you weren’t sure where to knock.  You rang the bell and it buzzed sadly in a low, broken tone, as though barely hanging on.  When you were just about to walk around back and knock, Joel opened the door holding a dish towel and a salty look that softened as saw you.  He let go of the door and looked down as he cleaned his hands.  

His voice was deep as always, but it struck you more when you were one-on-one without anyone else’s chatter.  “Need somethin’?”

“Uh, no.  I don’t.”  You smiled just enough to not look scared and countered, “Do you need anything?”  His presence was intimidating. Handsome and muscular, with a quiet, powerful energy.  

He didn’t say anything. Kept cleaning his fingers.  Once he looked at you again, he didn’t look away. He stopped messing with his fingers.  It was your only private conversation since the first time he came over for dinner.  It was more eye contact than he had ever given you.  You waited out the silence, then smiled and held out the cobbler for him. “This is for you.” 

He put his hands around the dish, careful not to let his dirty fingers touch yours.  “You made this?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and took your hands away. His eyes gave the hint of a smile, but his mouth didn’t budge.  

“Welcome to the street,” you told him. 

He nodded but didn’t offer any more words.  He stood there and looked at you until you said, “Well, you know where we are if you need anything.  Bye, Joel.”  He nodded and watched you walk away.  

—---------

Joel and the Adlers.  Those were the only people you were aware of who ever lived in that house.  You put on another dress.  It was a lightweight, black fabric. Low-cut, flowy, came down to your knees with elbow length sleeves that were kind of see through and flared out. 

You were too curious not to bring up the clothes.  Over lunch, you asked, “The Adlers didn’t have a daughter when they lived here, did they?”

He seemed to be thinking it over as he finished chewing.  “Not that I know of.  Why?” 

“Whose clothes are these?”

“Ah,” he said.  “Well they’re yours now, peaches.”  

You smiled. “Before, though.”

“Why?  Do you like’em? They look good on ya. Are they the right size?”

“I like’em a lot. They’re nice, they fit well.” 

He raised his eyebrows and proudly revealed, “Picked’em up at the boutique.”  His cheeks turned pink as he looked at you for approval. “Wasn’t much left. Wasn’t sure you’d like’em.”  He took a bite of his salad.

“Wow,”  you nodded. You were nearly speechless that he stocked that room for you.  If there wasn’t much left at the boutique, he must’ve grabbed anything in  your general size. Maybe that’s how he ended up with The Dress.  

“Wanted to have what ya needed here, just in case.” He nodded as he chewed.  “S’why it took me a few days to come by after Bill and Frank left.”

“That’s nice, Joel.” It was a little awkward.  You didn’t know what to say.

He continued to explain himself.  “Men like me and Bill, we’re protectors.”  He put down his fork to gesticulate.  “So when your papa asked me to make sure you’d be okay, I took it real serious.  Did everything I could to be ready for any scenario.” 

You slowly nodded and he looked at you in anticipation of further response. You said, “Well, you went above and beyond.” 

Your face must have given away your shock.  Joel sighed.  “Might’ve gotten carried away.”  He looked down and lowered his voice. “Been a while since I had someone to care for.  I guess the idea of someone even possibly needin’ me. . . ”  Your heart hurt for him.  “Hell, maybe I wanted to remember what it felt like. Look at me playin’ dress-up, right?” He laughed at himself, but his eyes were somber. 

You took his hand into yours and looked him in the eyes.  “Thank you, Joel.” 

“I’m glad they fit,” he said.  “Glad ya can use’em.”  He took a sip of water, then quickly swallowed it to clarify,  “I mean, I’m not glad ya had to leave home.  Just glad I could be here.” 

“Yeah.”  You squeezed his hand. He kissed yours and let it go.   “This is really good, by the way.  Love the dressing.”  

“It’s basil. Grew it outside.  I’ve got some herb seedlings in pots down in the basement. We can try to plant’em if ya want.” 

Your face lit up at the possibility of going outside.  “Yeah!”

“We’ll do the arugula, too.  I dunno about the ‘berries, darlin’, but we’ll try.” 

—----

It was a cloudy day, but still nice out.  Joel seemed to think it might rain later.  After lunch, he loaded up a wagon full of plants and supplies from the basement, and the two of you walked through the orchard.  The fresh air was invigorating after being  stuck in the house.  

“‘Member which tree is ours?” Joel asked.  

When you correctly pointed it out, he stopped the wagon and let the handle sit.  You looked at him shyly as he looked you up and down.  “C’mere.”  He gently turned you to face him.  “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” He cradled your head with both hands.  You tilted your chin, then he planted a long, affectionate kiss on your lips.

When you got to the garden beds at the back of the orchard, Joel said, “we should plant’em together so they cross-pollinate. Where do you wanna put’em?”  Joel watched your face as you walked around them and evaluated the options.  

The garden bed to the right already had a pumpkin vine with beautiful flowers. That bed looked more settled, darker, and fertile.  “I didn’t know you had pumpkins,” you marveled. “Maybe by those?”

Joel looked down at the garden bed.  “Yeah, hopefully they’ll fruit.”  He smiled up at you without raising his head again.  

Joel used a spade to dig shallow holes, then you nestled the roots in the holes and both of you patted the soil down.  First the arugula, then the basil, then the longshot–the strawberries, 

“Pat it down, but not too tight,” he said. 

When you were finished, you knelt by the vine and traced a flower with your fingers. Its warm colors were cheerful. “When the pumpkins grow, can we eat’em?”

“Sure, darlin’.”  Joel looked down at the vine, squatting right beside you.  “Y’know, the flower’s edible, too.”  

“It is?” Your stomach rumbled at the thought of eating something new. 

Half of Joel’s mouth curled into a small smile. “I reckon you’ve never had a flor de calabaza taco, then. Granted, not sure how ya would’ve.”

“Flor de calabaza?”

“Pumpkin flower. Haven’t had one in a while myself. Go on, pick a couple. Let’s try it.” 

You plucked one. “Good choice,” he said, giving you a flashback to when he caught you with one of his peaches. The embarrassment flooded you all over again as you picked two more.  Joel saw your face change, and he smiled, hopefully not thinking about the origin of your nickname. You wondered how often he thought about it.  He picked a flower of his own, leaving a bit of vine on it, then stroked your cheek and said “c’mere.”  He looked in your eyes and put his flower behind your ear.  He kissed you on the lips, then wrapped an arm around you and began to stand, bringing you up with him.  

Joel looked up at the sky, squinting. “Ah, hell.  Gimme that cloth.” He knelt down and finished patting the soil as you retrieved the cloth from the wagon.  You helped him cover the newly planted arugula, basil, and strawberries to protect them from washout.

—--

You hung out in the kitchen, helping Joel make dinner.  The apple blossom in the jar still looked beautiful.  He knew how to take care of things.  You washed the pumpkin flowers, then twirled one against your nostrils as Joel cooked wild turkey.  You inhaled the petals and tried to imagine what they’d taste like.  Joel cooked the flowers with the turkey. They were delicious. Granted, anything new to eat was appealing in principle.  Novelty was its own seasoning. 

After dinner that night, Joel needed to do some work outside before the rain.  He showed you a shelf of books and games near the fireplace, then watched your face as you browsed them.   You picked up one that you liked as a girl but hadn’t read in years.  Joel went out through the basement.  You heard him dragging a tarp out. 

There were a lot of thoughts distracting you from your book.  Your feelings for Joel overwhelmed you.  At certain moments, it felt too good to be true.  You also reflected on your intimacy and felt like things were moving fast. You understood why: you felt safe and protected, and your body’s physical need for his was totally natural. But the speed also made it feel fragile somehow.  Like if you looked down, you might be falling through the air, not realizing you ran off a cliff.  

There was also the question: If a connection this special formed so quickly, could it come undone just as fast?  You couldn’t rid your head of his wounded face when you said you were lonely.  You hurt his feelings and panicked, as if you needed to give him everything you could at that moment to prove that you loved him. As much as you enjoyed having him in your mouth like that, it felt impulsive in hindsight. Desperate, and you hoped he didn’t see it that way. Pathetic, even. But the memory of it turned you on all the same. 

You replayed other encounters in your mind and felt like you were largely the one driving things.  Burying your fear and grief in his lap.  It embarrassed you to think about, but you also felt relieved that there wasn’t really any pressure.  It was like Joel said, whatever you want and that’s all.  You said you wanted it in your mouth, and of course he wouldn’t discourage it. Then he wouldn't be giving you everything.

The sound of metal banging then scraping on concrete stirred you from your thoughts. Then the basement door opened and shut twice.  

—------

When Joel came back inside, it was nearly your typical bedtime and you were cozy on the sofa.  You were curled up on your side with the book on your thigh and your eyes closed.  You were only half asleep, but you let him take the book. He also spread a blanket over you.  When his bedroom door closed, you sat up and opened the book again.  There was a black thumbprint on the open page, and it smelled like ash. It gave you butterflies to see his thumbprint.  You liked the idea of having part of him in the book as you read it.  You knew how irrational these feelings were, but it didn’t stop them.  

Joel’s shower turned on.  The walls were so thin that you could hear everything.  A cabinet opening, the shower door, changes in the rhythm of the water flow.  You could hear that he brushed his teeth in the shower. Maybe not just in the shower.  He always seemed to taste fresh.   A few minutes after the water turned off, Joel came out of his room in jeans and a white t-shirt that wasn’t tucked in.  The shirt hugged his pecs and arms and gave you an even deeper, needier appreciation for his physique.  The casual look was really attractive on him.  You needed him so bad it hurt.  If you couldn’t have him forever, you weren’t sure what you would do.  If he ended up with anyone else—there was no reason for this thought to even cross your mind, but the fleeting idea of it made your temples weak.  He was too perfect. 

You were sitting on the couch hugging your knees when he sat down next to you.  He put his hand on your knee and dipped his head to look at you. You took a deep breath through your nose.  Mint and pine. His post-shower fragrance made your chest tingle. 

“You okay, peaches?”

“Yeah.” You mustered a smile.  “Just tired.  Guess I should go to sleep.”

“Sure, darlin’. Want me to tuck you in?”

Your heart sank at the lack of an invitation.  “Yeah.” 

Joel took your hand and led you upstairs. While you were in the bathroom getting ready to sleep,  Joel made the bed for you before turning the covers down for you to get in. 

“There ya go.” 

“Thanks.” You got under the covers, tempted to make room for him but not wanting to come on too strong or look desperate.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress and leaned over you like he had in the morning.  “Need anything at all, I’m right downstairs.” 

“Thank you.”

Joel kissed you goodnight. You were a little sad when he didn't try anything, but you had already said you were tired. In your heart, you felt like he'd always be patient with you. If you wanted to slow things down, it was yourself you had to worry about.  But in your heart, that wasn’t what you wanted anyway.  You just hoped Joel didn’t think less of you for needing him so much. 

—-----------

You woke up in the middle of the night to a deafening clap of thunder.  You sat up and your hand went to your chest.  You could feel your heart pounding. The wash of your blood through your valves echoed in your ears.  Outside, branches rustled loudly and snapped in the wind. 

You were unsettled lying there awake and alone. You wondered why Joel didn't just have you sleep in his bed. Maybe he was trying to be respectful, but these were the things that made you second guess the pace on your end.  You lay there alone, and began to hear creaking and clattering indoors that made your heart race. Joel was right downstairs, but he never felt so far away.  The thunder was okay, but the other noises made your mind race with thoughts of whatever happened the other night at your house.  Whatever Joel saved you from.  The distorted version of Call Me echoed in your mind. 

You worked up the courage to get out of bed.  You crept downstairs like you did the night before.  A flash of lightning startled you.  When a louder, longer crack of thunder followed, you quickened your steps, hanging onto the bannister for dear life so you wouldn’t slip in the dark. 

Joel’s bedroom door was cracked open, so you let yourself in. It was almost pitch black dark. He was on his back in the middle of the bed with the covers pulled half down.  You couldn’t make out his face, but his breathing told you he was fast asleep.  You went around to the side farthest from the bedroom door and smoothed your nightgown under you as you lifted up the comforter and gently sat down.  You brought up your feet and slipped under the covers.  Joel’s breathing changed, but he didn’t move until there was a louder clap of thunder.  You scooted closer and whispered his name. 

His head jolted up and he gasped. “You okay?”

“Yeah.  But I got scared of the storm.”

“‘C’mere, darlin’.” He turned onto his side to face you and stretched his arm out.  You scooted over and laid your head on it. He draped his other arm over you.  “You’re okay, I got ya.” He pulled you closer and planted a kiss on your forehead. 

You lay there with your arm nestled between you and your hand on his chest.  He touched your hair and kissed you on the head a few more times, then dipped his head to kiss your lips, nudging your head up to face him.  The kiss was languid and both your lips came to a rest without pulling away.  You stayed like that, both of you breathing through your noses with your lips nestled between each other’s. His breathing slowed again, and your breath began to match his. Your lips finally fell away as you drifted off in his arms to the sound of the storm.  

-

In the middle of the night, you woke up on your back with Joel half on top of you, one of his legs between yours.  You stirred and he put more weight on you.  He sighed your name without waking up, and the sound of it in his mouth gave you butterflies. Then he fisted your nightgown over your breast and slurred, “‘m sorry.”  His body jerked and he gasped, then relaxed again. A few seconds later, he mumbled, “had to.”  His breath deepened.  “For us.” 

Your mind became an empty pit, and your heart raced. “Had to what,” you whispered. 

“Please." He became unintelligible. "Please," he repeated in distress. 

“Had to what, Joel?”

He jolted awake at the sound of his name. He jerked his head up then relaxed as he felt you beneath him.  “You ok, baby?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He took some of his weight off you, rolling back onto his side and resting a massive hand on your chest. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”  

He sighed and rested his forehead on your shoulder for a few seconds.  Then you asked, “What were you dreaming about?”

“Hmm. . . didn’t know I was dreamin’,” he said.  “But I reckon I’d dream about you, darlin’.” 

“What about me?”

“Ohh, you and me. . .”  He kissed your nose, then your lips, then whispered, “and the rest of our lives.”  His words bypassed your mind and wrapped your heart in the tightest little hug.  It was already getting difficult to imagine a future without him.  You could hardly picture it at this point. What would you even be doing? The same things you’d done your whole life, at the same house, with no hope of meeting someone to share it with. Even if you met someone, you couldn’t possibly imagine anyone else making you feel this way. 

—-----------

The storm had died down.  By then, it was just the loud patter of rain, darkened with a steady rumble.  Joel pulled you close and planted light kisses on your mouth. Then he slid his tongue between your lips and the kisses became deeper.  He shifted to hover over you, and you reached out to trace his form, starting with a hand on each pec, sliding them over his shoulders and down to where his triceps stretched his sleeves.  You could imagine nothing hotter than Joel with his hair out of place, shoulders and biceps bulging through his white t-shirt.  He leaned down to kiss you like he hadn’t seen you in days.

He lowered himself to lay half on top of you again, and you felt the warm shape of his cock hardening against your hip.  You and me, and the rest of our lives. . . Between his words, his weight, and his passion, you melted under him.  He rested his forearms on either side of your torso.  He planted a kiss on your cheek, then your chin, then your throat.  His lips opened and closed, opened and closed, crawling wetly up and around your throat without ever breaking contact.  His hips pushed his hardness against you and you sighed.  He sealed his lips in the crook of your neck and sucked, moaning quietly into your skin.  He tore his mouth from your neck with a low sigh to say, “You’re gorgeous, baby.”  His voice was hoarse from sleep or want. 

He sealed his lips around yours and you could feel his affection with every brush of his tongue.  You could taste all the words he wanted to say–that he was desperate for you, would do anything for you, could never lose you.  You kissed him back, slowly but hungrily, your hips lifting into him, telling  him without words that he could have all of you, you were truly his.  You kissed harder, your mouth hanging onto his for dear life, and he moaned into your mouth.  A groan was building in your chest but you just wanted to hear him.

—

He sighed as his hardness dug into you, then his hand reached down between your legs, under your nightgown.  He lightly dragged his middle finger up and down the crotch of your panties, still kissing you deeply. Then he traced the same line with several fingers flattened together. He broke the kiss to try to read your eyes in the dark.  Then he said, “God, I love you so much.”  Before you could say it back, he covered your mouth with his.   His hips slowly rolled into you as he sucked and tasted your mouth.  The rhythm of his stiff cock against your hip made you physically weak with desire.  

You tried to shift your hips under him.  He got the message and put himself between your legs, resting both his forearms on the bed again.  With his cock laying heavily against your mound, you ached with need, dying to be filled, at least by his fingers.  But you were also a little shy about how needy you felt. He kissed you with so much love, and you felt just as much for him, but your brain took over for a moment and your lips stopped moving.  

The moment you started overthinking it, Joel noticed and pulled back.   He experimentally grinded his cock against your front. He leaned his temple against yours and whispered, “Just ‘cause it's there don’t mean ya gotta do anything with it.” 

You breathed an internal sigh of appreciation, even though you were salivating to have it in your mouth again. To have it anywhere, everywhere.  

—

He cupped your cheek and stroked it with his thumb.  “I just wanna make ya feel good.  Can I do that?” You nodded “mm-hm,” and his hand returned between your legs, ghosting your clit through the fabric.  “Cause I don’t have to,” he went on.  “Won’t hurt my feelings if ya go back to your bed, okay?”  You nodded.  “We’ll just do what you want,” he said. Except for what I want most, you thought to yourself.   

Joel reached down to adjust his boxers, then he backed up and kissed his way down your body.  Every press of his lips through the satin gown made you throb more.  The faint silhouette of his hair made you imagine he was looking up at your face after every kiss, making sure you were still with him.  Of course you were.  The nightgown had already ridden up. He pushed it further, planted his head between your legs, and kissed you through the cotton of your underwear—softly, then harder.  His mouth drew a long sigh out of you as the tension inside you swelled.  

His fingers hooked into the hem of your panties and he slowly dragged them down.  He covered your warmth with his mouth before you could feel the cool air.  The underside of his tongue licked down your dripping seam as his fingers on your thighs continued pulling your panties down. 

His head broke away to finish taking them off, and he breathed, “you’re my favorite taste in the world, baby.”  

His mouth returned between your legs, and he devoured you just like before.  Licking, sucking, flicking his tongue, moaning into you.  When he began to fuck you with his tongue, your need to be filled by his cock only strengthened and demanded attention.  You said, “Get me ready.”

“Hmm?” 

“Ready for you. . .You said my body has to be ready, too.”  

He dabbed the corner of his mouth with his wrist, and you could almost see his smile in the dark.   “That what ya want?”  His hair was out of place already, which made you want him even more.

“Yeah,” you whispered.  

“That’s what we’ll do.”  

—-

He started while he was still between your legs.  He inserted a finger and kept kissing your clit while you sighed.  He pulled his head away and  flattened his fingers.  He gently rubbed you as he crawled back up the bed and stopped with his face near yours.  His face hovered an inch from yours as he rubbed your desperate, slippery, beautiful mess.  He stroked you just right, then pushed his finger back into you, his lungs audibly sucking in a long, deep breath. 

Your head tilted up and your mouth fell open.  He pushed the finger to the hilt and an obscene moan fell out of your mouth.  

“Oh baby, you sound so beautiful.”  He began to move his hips against your thigh.  “This okay? Or you want me to take it away.” 

“No, no, don’t take it away.” 

He exhaled half a laugh and slowly pumped his thick finger, staying mostly inside you, curling against your front wall.  “How’s it feel?” 

“Really good,” you whispered.  “Gimme another like last time.”  

His cock twitched against you and he kissed you as he slowly pushed another finger in. He moved them in and out and his hand hugged your mound as he did it. Your hips lifted into his hand and you broke the kiss with a sigh that became a whimper.  He groaned softly at your desperation and kept rutting against your thigh, fucking you slowly with his fingers. After following a steady rhythm for a while, he clamped his palm down on your mound, adding friction to your clit as he worked his hand. He began to bring his fingers out a little more to slicken your clit again.  You throbbed and moaned and could hardly stand it.  

“Joel,” you sighed, and struggled to find words.  You sputtered out, “I —Joel, I just — I want–ugh–want you, so bad.” 

His voice was low and soothing. “Ohhhh, I know it darlin’,” he commiserated.  He planted a kiss on your neck as he continued the push of his fingers inside you and his cock against you.  “You’ll have me, baby,” he murmured huskily.  “We’ll have each other.”  He worked his fingers and grinded his cock against you in opposite beats of the same rhythm.  

“Another one,” you whispered. 

“It’s too much, baby.” 

“It’s not,” you whined.  

“Let’s add one of yours.”  He removed his fingers almost entirely and lifted his palm up to make room for your hand under his.  “C’mon.”  You nestled your hand under his and carefully added your middle finger.  You slid your finger in against your front wall, nestled in a triangle with his two fingers as he pushed inside again.  You couldn’t reach very far, but it was enough to feel the stretch. His hand engulfed yours and controlled the rhythm. It was a different feeling, touching yourself with your finger nestled under his.  You enjoyed the stretch and his hand engulfing yours, but you could only imagine how much better the smooth tip of his cock would feel.  

Moving your finger with his, Joel asked, “Feel good?”

“Yours feel better.”  

He lifted his palm and you removed your hand.  He kissed you as he began pistoning his fingers deeper and harder.  He swirled and scissored them as though making room inside you.  

“Joel,” you sighed and your spine curved, jutting your breasts into the air. Your nipple fell out of your nightgown and his mouth was on it right away.  

He kissed your breast, moaning into your nipple.  Then he kissed your chest, then your neck. “God damn, baby,” he murmured hoarsely.  

“Just one more,” you begged. 

He grunted with a strong thrust against your hip.  “Ahh—Might be too much.” 

He paused his rhythm and slowly added his ring finger.  So slow it was torture.  

“No, don’t stop,” you whined.  “Just give it to me.” 

He gave it to you, grouping his fingers as close as he could together.  The stretch burned by the time he was half in, but you asked for more.  You winced at the burn and he took the finger back out.  

“I’m okay, it felt good,” you reassured him, but he went back to fucking you harder with two fingers instead, and that felt even better since he didn’t hold back. The burn quickly faded, drowned out by a throbbing tingle that consumed your whole torso, and spread to your thighs, down your legs, making your knees weak.  

Before long, you were writhing under him.  He sucked your breast again and you moaned his name.  He sucked your neck, then whispered into it, “You’ll be a beautiful bride.”  Your breath hitched and your eyes widened at his words, but you didn’t want him to stop.  He continued, “You want that, right?” 

You nodded and heard yourself whisper, “yes.”  

Joel sighed and brought his lips back to yours.  He pressed his hand into your clit as he worked his fingers to bring you over the edge.  “Yeah,” he breathed. Your body jerked and you moaned.  His hand hugged your cunt as you came.  “Ohhh, gooood giirrrl.”   He kissed one half of your mouth as your climax continued.  His breath was hot against your cheek.  “Love feelin’ ya like this.” 

—------

The rain had slowed even more, and the thunder was fading. Joel used his wet hand to pull his stiff manhood out of his boxers with a quiet groan.  You reached down to feel it and he shivered at your touch..  The tip was shiny with precum, smeared from rutting against you through his boxers. He must have been aching as bad as you were.  You took your hand away, opting to wait and see what he had in mind.  

“I don’t have to do this here,” Joel said, his voice weak with need.  Then he added in good humor,  “But it does need doin’,” and those words landed between your legs.  

Your lips parted and you took a deep breath, your eyelids heavy from your orgasm. “Do it here.”

Joel gathered more slick from between your thighs, and the contact gave you an aftershock. He stroked himself and breathed heavily.  He rested with his hip and forearm on the bed, and you turned onto your side to face him.  

He got closer, right up against you with just enough room to stroke himself.  You listened to the wet slide of his hand around his shaft, his breathing, his soft grunts.  It occurred to you this was something he did regularly, and now you could imagine it so vividly.  The idea of Joel thinking about you and getting himself off was almost too hot to bear. You draped your top leg over him. 

He fisted himself and kissed your shoulder.  He nosed your nipple, then dragged it up until his face lifted off your chest. He grunted softly as he pumped himself and pressed his nose, then his mouth, into your neck. He was farther down than you on the bed, and the head of his cock was so close to where you ached for it, you could feel the heat radiating as he stroked himself. Then it grazed you, sending a zap of energy through your loins. 

“I swear I'm ready,” you whispered. 

His voice became shaky. “God damn, I wanna pack you full of this.”  He grunted with hastening strokes.  “That’s what it’s for, baby.”  He bowed his head, and his disheveled hair grazed your cheek.  He brought his face up again and kissed you on the lips. “Gonna be all yours,” he murmured hoarsely into your cheek, then added, “and you’re all mine." 

"I'm all yours."

"Oh, God," he shuddered as he rolled onto his back. "Baby, I—Ohhh," He exhaled loudly and his body jerked as he came onto himself, sighing "ohhh God, baby."  He caught his breath and laid there in silence with you. You rolled onto your back again. He sat up and took the soiled t-shirt off, then laid on his side facing you and rested a heavy hand on your chest.  

–

With your blood finally flowing back to your brain, you considered what Joel asked and what you said.  Yes, you wanted to be his beautiful bride.  On some level, it occurred to you that yes was perhaps the only answer, but did that matter if it was your heart’s desire, too?

You asked, “You think we’re meant to be together?”

“Oh, peaches,” he sighed.  “I’m sure of it.” He kissed you and stroked your cheek, then held you tighter.  “You’re my world, and there is nothin’ I wouldn’t do to be with you.” He rolled you toward him, nestling your head under his chin, and held you until you fell back asleep.  

—------------------

When you woke up in the morning, Joel was freshly showered and standing next to the bed, buttoning a flannel shirt as he watched you sleep.  When you yawned, his eyes brightened.

“Why don’t I always sleep here?” you asked sleepily. 

He laughed silently to himself with a side-eye at the floor.  “Don’t trust myself, darlin’.”  

Your face burned at the implication and you shyly hid half your face.  His smile faded as he looked at you, then he added hoarsely, “God, if you knew how many times I’d thought about you.” There wasn’t so much as a hint of shame in his voice. It had the warmth in your cheeks traveling down, down, down. . . “We’re almost there, baby, but we gotta do it right.  We’re almost there, I promise.” He reached into his pants to tuck in his shirt and adjusted himself while he was there. Your eyes fixated on the bulge in his jeans. “God damn,” he exhaled.  “Turns me on thinkin’ about it.”  

He lightly rubbed his bulge in just one stroke and adjusted himself again from outside the jeans.  It didn’t seem like he was trying to start anything, but he got on the bed and hunger spread across his face as he reached you.  He kissed you needily and tore the sheets off you.  You let him in between your legs and wrapped them loosely around his thighs, your feet resting near his knees. He pulled down your nightgown and sucked your nipple, inhaling deeply through his nose.  Then he sucked his neck, and your clit throbbed against the friction of his jeans.  He hardened against you and kept on for a minute, not escalating things further.  Then he tore himself away with a groan. 

—-

“Wish I could stay here all day and just do this,” he lamented as he got off you to sit on the edge of the bed.  “But I gotta go to the QZ.”  

You protested, “What for?” 

“Somethin’ I gotta do every month, as long as the radio says so.” 

“Can I come?”

He shook his head.  “Too dangerous.” You expected as much. 

“You really have to go?”

He sighed.  “Yeah, darlin’.” 

“You’re leaving me alone?”

“Your parents left you here for a reason, ‘member? Cause it ain’t safe out there. You think they want me takin’ you there anyway?” 

“I know.  But you said it isn’t safe here either.” 

“It’s safe-er here.” 

“Just don’t go,” you whined. 

“If I don't, they're gonna know somethin's wrong, baby.” 

“I don’t-.”

“--nothin’s wrong, but they're gonna think somethin's wrong.” 

“Something is wrong,” you reminded him.  “Abe’s missing.” 

“He–Abe–darlin’.”  Joel sighed, shook his head, and abandoned the topic.  He looked down and rubbed his temples with his middle finger and thumb. “I’m sorry, peaches. I gotta go, and I can’t take ya with me.”

“Will you check on Frank at the Army hospital?”

Joel hesitated, then said,  “Sure, baby.” 

“Are you going to Tommy’s? Bill’s staying there, right?”

“I’m gonna try, darlin’.  Don’t wanna leave ya for too long, though.”

—----

While Joel made you breakfast, you went upstairs to change.  You also sat down at the vanity and used the stationary to write a short note to Bill and Frank. 

Love you and miss you so much, but Joel is taking good care of me. 

Joel read it.  “This is real sweet, peaches.  But do you want’em thinkin’ I’m takin’ care of ya? Thought you wanted to show you could do it.”  He made a good point.  You went upstairs, started over. 

I love and miss you both so much. Frank, Please get well soon.

When you gave it to Joel, he folded it up and put it in his pocket.  He told you to stay inside, and reminded you not to open the door for anyone but him.  He would be back in a few hours.  

—----------------------

After Joel left, you lay around for a while thinking about him and your life together. You went to the kitchen and were about to idly open the pantry, when the counter beside it seemed to move, catching your eye.  There was a trail of ants leading to the apple blossom in the jar. You stepped back. The blossom that had looked so nice the night before was yellowed and crawling with them.  It was like time was moving in slow motion.  You left the scene as it was.  You grabbed a shiny apple from the basket on the opposite counter and went to the sofa to read.  You couldn’t wait for Joel to get home and tell you how Frank was doing.  The minutes crawled by, and you tried to immerse yourself in the story to pass the time.

Only a few pages into your book, you were about to bite into your apple when you heard squawking outside.  You set down the book and went to look out the kitchen window.  You couldn’t see where the noise was coming from.  As you looked out into the orchard, you were startled by a tickle on your arm and flicked off an ant with a gasp.  You hadn’t so much as touched the counter–it felt unfair.  The squawking continued, and you were going stir crazy wanting to go out and see what all the fuss was about.  

Less than an hour after Joel left, you decided to break his rule.  You knew he was protecting you, but it also didn’t seem fair to expect you to stay cooped up inside all on your own.  He could have taken you with him. You knew he could have protected you from any harm that found you.  You looked around and couldn’t find your shoes.  Not in your room, not by the front or back door, not in the living room.  You wouldn’t let that stop you. 

You went outside barefoot, careful to look in front of your feet so you wouldn’t step on anything dangerous.  The sky was gray and dim and the cool air was refreshing even with its humidity.  Branches were scattered everywhere from the wind of the storm. The ground beneath the peach trees was carpeted with yellow leaves sticking wetly to each other.  One third of a peach tree was hanging by a thread off its trunk, the tips of the branches scraping the ground with every breeze.  It could have snapped off at any moment, while the rest of the tree stood proud like it didn’t know.  

You followed the squawking and found an apple tree full of crows.  When you approached, they swarmed into the sky, forming a cloud before settling together on another tree.  With nothing better to do, you followed them.  The second tree was near yours and Joel’s.  They flew toward the back of the orchard and you didn’t follow.  You shuffled around your tree, looking on every branch for a fresh apple blossom.  On the ground, there were layers of leaves and lots of fallen apples.  You were moving your feet slowly and carefully, and your toes caught on something inorganic.  Something rigid, fabric.  You lifted your foot and when the bill of a hat emerged, you reflexively kicked it away as if it were alive or worse. As if you could simply kick away the pit in your gut.  Your stomach turned as you looked at your Red Sox cap on the ground. 

The crows squawked and squawked, and your heart pounded.  You looked around the orchard as if something might be closing in on you.  The trees seemed to get closer, the sky seemed to darken.  Your thoughts kept repeating, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to be with you. Nothing. Nothing in the world, peaches.  You refused to articulate the gut feeling into a thought.  You wouldn’t dignify it. You took a deep breath and grounded yourself, focusing on the feeling of the wet leaves stuck to your ankles.  

You covered the baseball cap with leaves again, burying the feeling as best you could, and rushed back toward the house. On your way back, you stepped on a broken twig.  When you got inside, you saw it was bleeding. 

You cleaned up your foot, then it occurred to you to check the living room closet. You opened the closet door, and the other cap—Jesse’s cap—was still there, exactly where you saw it. To your relief, you also found your shoes neatly laid on the closet floor alongside some loafers and boots.  You left them untouched.  

You settled in with your book again, hoping to distract yourself.  You bit into the apple.  Your teeth sliced right through the skin and sank into soft, mealy flesh that almost making you gag.  You tossed it outside into the leaves because you didn’t want any more ants, then you locked the door behind you.  You sat back down on the sofa and didn’t even try to pick up the book again.  You resigned yourself to facing your thoughts. 

You explored the worst case scenario of what Joel might have done to be with you.  You concluded it was silly to think you had been that important to a man you hardly knew.  It was narcissistic, you told yourself, to think he loved you that much.  That he would really do anything, just to hold you in his arms.  It was the fabric of fairy tales, and it was grotesque.  Especially because it didn’t disgust you.  It gave you butterflies, and not just the nervous kind.

—-------

As soon as you heard Joel’s truck pull into the driveway, your mind returned to Frank.  You had a few seconds before Joel came in, and in that time you realized you should greet Joel before asking about anyone else.  You didn’t want to be rude.  When the door opened, you got up and kissed Joel and told him you missed him.  On your way back to the sofa, you noticed a spot of blood from your foot on the flooring and hoped Joel wouldn’t see it.  

You sat down on the couch and asked him how Frank was.  Joel’s face was solemn as he took a seat next to you and put his hand on your knee.  Your chest tightened at this gesture and the next few seconds felt like an hour until Joel spoke. 

"He's doin' better, baby." 

You broke down in tears of relief.  You would have cried no matter what.  Whether Frank was better, worse, or even if Joel didn’t see him, there would’ve been tears of happiness, sadness, or fear.  Joel took you in his arms and you buried your tears in his neck. 

“So they think he’s gonna recover?” you asked. 

“Think so.” Joel looked at you, concerned.  

“What do they think it is?”

“They’re not sure, darlin’.  S’pose it could be an allergy, or environmental.  So it’s a good thing you’re here with me.”

“Did you give’em my letter?”

“Yeah.”  Joel leaned forward, lifted himself for a moment, and reached into his back pocket.  He handed you your letter and you unfolded it so quickly it almost ripped. Joel slowly rubbed your back as you looked at the piece of paper and tried to steady your hands. 

There was a note in Frank’s handwriting:

We love you so much.  Protect yourself.

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

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

Thank you all so much for reading and engaging with my unhinged story. Y'all are truly the best. 💙

I challenged myself to do the smut scene with little if any visual description, hope it worked out okay.

I do not expect the next chapter to be nearly as long.

There are more virgins on my joel master list, and you can follow @toxicfics and turn on notifications for fic alerts.

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore  @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy  @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk  @filthfairy  @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles  @harriedandharassed  @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy  @cutesyscreenname  @weddingfairy  @pedropascal-whore  @spideysimpossiblegirl  @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot

The Lincoln tag list will be on the toxicfics reblog 💙

[starcrossedreaders]

Grossly Dependent

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Angst with fluff at the end, self doubt, injury

Authors note: YOU GUYS MATTER! Don’t let anyone else convince you other wise.  There will always be someone out there that loves you. <3

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

I never meant to get myself in this situation. Being noisy had it’s perks till it didn’t, and currently I was suffering from the down fall of Fae hearing. 

“Honestly, my condolences go out to whoever her mate is, it must be hard to be putting up with such a dependent mate.”  Hushed voices turned into giggles that escaped their lips.

 I never knew my co-workers to be so cruel. Was I really that dependent on Azriel? Does he hate it? He never seemed to hate it, but he isn’t the shadow master for no reason. 

My mind was processing 100 thoughts at once, like waves coming up and washing away any self respect I had. I let out a sadden sigh, threw up the wall to the bond and got to shelving books. 

I had worked longer tonight in hopes to clear my mind before I face my mate but all attempts had failed miserably.  If anything, it made it worse. I thought to every time I had needed his help and how he reacted, this only resulted in me to drop the books in my arms, or almost fall off of the stool I needed to use to reach the highest shelves. Maybe they were right. Azriel had been the soul reason I left my bed when the sun rose. The reason I had worked so hard to make a better life for myself, the reason I was living not just existing. But maybe, just maybe I’m only living because of he has helped me every step of the way, from wrapping my hand when I burned it, to holding me through the late hours of the night when I was having a hard day.  

As I was getting ready to close the bookstore a notably handsome male walked through the doors. Tall, somewhat well built with blond hair that swept his face and blue eyes. Nothing he has would beat Azriel and all of his artistry. I often found myself comparing my mate to the art we would see on our dates, nothing can beat him; the art was as close as one could get.

“Hi welcome in, may I help you find anything?” I smile at him as he walks up to register. As I walked up he eyed me up and down taking in my figure, creep.

“Well of course, do you guys have any history books?”  He tilted his head to the side taking more time to observe me.

“Right this way. Are you looking for a certain book?” I started walking towards the designated section as he stated the title of his book.

When we made it to the spot I scanned the binds of the books to, of course to find the book to be on the top shelf.  As I go to reach it on the tips of my toes my fingers nearly grazing the thick bind, I lost balance.  As I began to tip backwards and tripping on my own feet  the male behind me braced me by the waist. I clenched my eyes shut hoping to hide from my embarrassment. After a few heart beats I began to back away only for the male to strengthen his grip of me. 

“You can let go now,” I looked up to him giving him a deadpanned look. He looked back at me grinning slightly.

“No ‘thank you’ for saving you?” His arrogant manner was starting to get on my nerves.

“Thanks. You can let go now,” I tried to push his hands off of me. Everything about his hands on me gave my stomach a twist. It’s not my mate, in no way shape or form.

He tried to pull me closer until shadows swept pass us going straight towards my ankles and arms to protect me.

Azriel.

“She said to let go. You have 3 seconds to let go or your hands are mine.” His cold voice sent shivers up my spine. 

The male growled, ripped his hands from my waist and angerly walked out.

He had saved me once again, I was truly and utterly defenseless. Being oh so dependent on my mate, once again. The chills from my spine soon felt like hot lava pouring down on my spine. Anger, blind rage and anger surged through me.

“Are you okay my love? Did he hurt you?” His protective, yet warming words reached my ears.

“I’m fine.” I curled my fists and walked past him to close the store. I know I shouldn’t be so cold towards my mate, especially after he saved me. But my co-workers words kept repeating in my mind. 

Dependent.

Dependent.

Dependent.

“Are you sure? You seem kind of upset,”  

“I said I’m fine Az, let me close the store and then we can go home.” I left no room for him to try again as I began my closing duties. Azriel just sent a warm loving feeling down the bond that I embraced. I sagged my shoulders as I counted the money.

As my mates feet touched the ground I was off to the kitchen to start dinner. I didn’t really want to talk about today, or how I was feeling for that matter. I went  to occupy my mind again in hopes to better myself for my mate. 

Starting dinner took a lot of work and restraint to not just go fall into our bed and sleep for the rest of my immortal life. I truly don’t know why I was feeling this way, Azriel was the best mate I could have ever asked for, even if he was little overbearing and protective. He can’t help it, working for the High Lord is never easy and his work brings a lot of threats around but still. Nesta and Feyre are never this dependent on their mates, in fact most of the time they were the ones to wear the pants in the relationship. Rhys gave Feyre time and knows she can handle herself. Cassian knows how Nesta is and respects that she is as independent as they come. Azriel...

Before I could finish my thought a sharp wave of pin surged through my hand. Lost in my thoughts I hadn’t realized that the knife was so close to my finger and I sliced it open. It took a minute to fully understand what happened and then the strong copper sent wafted up in the air. The shadow Az left to make sure I was okay was gone before I could blink and Az was booming down the stairs after I opened my eyes. 

I stood up straight and faced my back towards him as I began to rinse out the wound.

“Y/N, are you okay, is the cut deep, what happened?” So, so, many questions

dependent.

dependent.

dependent.

The words rattled throughout my skull.

“I’m fine, I can handle it on my own. You don’t have to be protecting me all the time Az. Nothing is going to happen to me if you look away for one second. S-So just go finish your work or whatever you were doing, I can do this myself.” The words stumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them, and soon after the air become still.

“Love...” Love rushed down the bond as he face turned from concerned to hurt. I couldn’t handle that look. 

I go to walk past him but he flung his wing out stopping me in my tracks.

“Talk to me, Love. Why do you feel this way,” His shadows left to get the first aid-kit leaving us to each other. His beautiful hazel eyes bored into me. My bottom lip began to quiver as tears rose to my eyes and my throat burned. Az was quick to bring his hand to my cheek, wiping the running tears away. I place my hand on top of his and leaned into his touch. He connected his forehead to mine in hopes that my thoughts would pour into his mind.

“Talk to me.” He whispered hot breath ran down my face as he slide his thumb back and forth on my cheek.

“Every day, all I hear is how reliant I am on you. For the longest time I refused to listen to their words. I thought you enjoyed being there for me as much as I do for you but then, you introduced your friends to me. Gods they looked so happy with their mates. Both sisters being strong and independent, if anything their mates needed them. Sometimes I wonder if you want something like that, a person to lean on.... not a burden,” I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. How did I just confess that to my mate...

Az pulled back letting out a sigh and he began to work on bandaging my finger.

“My mate, my lovely mate. How could you ever be a burden, I don’t think you realize how much you  lift me up as much I lift you up. We help each other in different aspects of our lives. You helped me with my insecurities, my hands, self destructive thoughts, showing that I do deserve your love. Remember when we first met?” He lets out a small life and I grinned a little.

“Yea, I do,” 

“You tripped on cauldron knows what with a coffee in one hand and books in the other. You just so happened to be graced by my��chivalrous acts and I saved you. That day I knew, just knew you were my mate. Even if you fall hundred times over I would never change you for the world. Mother has blessed me with you and I could never thank her enough. You are enough, you are wanted, and you are most certainly not. a. burden. So get those thoughts out of your head,” Az finished wrapping my finger as he placed a soft kiss on the cut. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[nancypullen]

Monday, Monday

Oh, I can’t wait for the day when Monday no longer means Mickey dragging down the hallway to sit in front of a screen all day.  He’s good at his job, and most days he actually enjoys it (that might be stretching the truth a bit), but he’s a little over a year from retirement and the grind is getting to him.  I bite my tongue and do not point out that he doesn’t fight traffic, he doesn’t even have to put pants on if he doesn’t feel like it, and his lovely assistant provides a delicious and nutritious lunch every day. He’s got it better than a lot of people, but no one wants to hear that when you’ve worked since your teens and you’re ready to relax and reap the benefits of all that hard work. In other words, Mondays around here are still a bummer.  I try not to be too chipper and I made Monday my bathroom cleaning and laundry day just so I can suffer a little in sympathy.  I probably have a better time cleaning toilets than he does at his desk.  In other news, it was raining Etsy boxes at my house today.

  I’ve used all but about three dollars of my gift certificates and I think I chose wisely.  Garden stuff, hobby stuff, a little jewelry, and this little mouse came all the way from the UK.

Now she’s here to keep my art room tidy.   Anyone recognize her? That’s Hunca Munca from Beatrix Potter’s  A Tale of Two Bad Mice.  She and her husband, Tom Thumb, left their mousehole because the temptation of a dollhouse was just too much.  Once inside the dollhouse they were so disappointed that all of the delicious-looking food was fake that they made quite a mess. SHe felt awful about it and now very early every morning Hunca Munca tidies the dollhouse before anyone wakes.  I’m hoping she’ll do the same around here. If not, at least she makes me smile.

And in the name of tidying up, I’ve been trying to make the most of the pantry space and get it organized.  This was the vision I had...

Yeahhhh, I don’t have that kind of pantry.

I have a long way to go, but I’ve labeled areas so I can start placing similar items in groups and eventually I’ll have lots of pretty baskets ad labeled containers.  But for right now it looks like this.

That’s just one corner. I also have sections for table linens, small appliances, baking stuff, and so on. It’s not pretty yet, but it’s functional.  Even though it’s not pretty, I have to admit that I love opening the doors and seeing Ina Garten smiling at me.

Right now I’m really wishing I’d painted the walls behind those ugly metal shelves.  You know darn well I’d paint them a soft, pale pink and make it all girly. Great, now I’m thinking pink and you know once I get it in my head....Mickey will hate hearing this idea.  I’d also love to replace those wire/metal shelves with some dark stained wood.  Bet he’ll fight me on that.  You all already know I’m going to have a pink pantry with dark shelves, right?   Anywayyyy, big weekend coming up.  The Edgewaters are escaping for a romantic weekend and that means that Little Miss is staying with us.  I’m brainstorming some fun stuff for us to do, but entertainment will not be a problem - my sister is driving over on Saturday morning!  She’s down from Maine for the winter and she wants to pop in and see us.  Actually, she wants to giggle with the grandgirl and I think it will be a hoot to see that her Grancy has a sister.  I’ll tell her we’re like Elsa and Anna except very, very old.  I’m sure the three of us can stir up some fun.

That said, here’s my quandary.  The Miss Universe pageant is Saturday night.  You know how I am about that particular event.  I’ve been doing my research, getting glimpses of national costumes, hoping for a peek at evening gowns.  I’m excited.  So, do I turn it on and let the grandgirl stay up past her bedtime to see princesses from around the world?  If I do that, there will be running commentary.  Also, her parents may not want her watching a pageant. Do I record it and watch it Monday night after we return her to her rightful owners?  I’d have to be very careful not to watch or read any news that might spoil it.  Does this seem frivolous - yes, of course. Would I give up pageants forever for weekends with her? Absolutely. But this is my Super Bowl and I enjoy the heck out of it.  I’m thinking I’ll play it safe and watch it on Monday.   I really don’t need her telling her parents that she stayed up and watched a show where women walked around in swimsuits in exchange for a big diamond crown. Mmmkay, I think I’ll head upstairs and take a bubble bath.  The mister is watching the Georgia-Texas game, apparently this is a big one.  If I go take a bath now I can stay upstairs and turn that tv to murder.  Either that or I can browse pink paint samples for the pantry.  Mickey will probably consider that a crime. Hope you’ve had a pleasant Monday.  If not, then I’m glad it’s over. May the rest of your week be surprisingly fun. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

[tojitiddies]

✰ TEACH

pairing ⋆ toji fushiguro x fem!reader

synopsis ⋆ in all your years of teaching you’ve never encountered a parent like toji.

warnings ⋆ vaginal sex, oral sex, creampie, dacryphilia if you squint, dumbification

ꔵ the first time you ever saw toji fushiguro was around second month of school, when megumi had began acting up in class. you knew megumi to be a spoiled rich kid, as he was always being dropped off and picked up in sleek black cars with tinted windows, along with his older sister tsumiki. sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of the driver if megumi ever needed assistance getting his bag out the car, but that was the only semblance of adult supervision you’d seen megumi receive outside of school faculty.

megumi was always dressed crisply and his meals efficiently packed. he really didn’t seem to understand the concept of sharing or caring and relied on his tiny fists to solve conflicts. this was all a stark contrast to his sister tsumiki, seeing as his older sister’s teachers only sang her praises. truly you had tried to get through to the seven year old, but out of all the trouble makers you’d ever taught, megumi really liked to work your nerves.

which brought you here, at a parent-teacher conference with megumi’s father, toji fushiguro. his large figure looked comical as he sat in one of the small plastic, colored chairs, usually inhabited by first graders of course. he wore a plain black t-shirt and white slacks. he also had a black blazer that he he had draped over the side of his chair. the side of his lips was decorated with a menacingly large scar that twitched occasionally as he listened to you speak.

“... all i want is for megumi to have a good time here in first grade. i know he and his sister are new so making an adjustment may be difficult, but i’d like to make the transition for young megumi as smooth as possible.” you finished as you fiddled with your fingers.

toji shifted in his chair with a slight grunt. “mrs. ____ is it?” he asked. you shook your head.

“just miss actually.” you corrected him shyly. his entire demeanor was so intimidating you didn’t want to insult him. you almost miss the mischievous glint in his eye as you lift your eyes to face him again.

“i understand your concerns with my son. i had no idea what a little shit he was being. especially to such a beautiful young woman as yourself.” his tone is suggestive, contradicting the polite smile adorning his lips.

you smiled uncomfortably. “thank you, but i would never think of your son as...a little shit. i’m sure he has a sweet side somewhere. which is why, i thought maybe megumi could benefit from some sort of counseling?” you suggested, pushing forward a slip of paper. toji leaned forward taking the document from the desk and began to read over it, his brow quirking up in interest. “alongside being a first grade teacher i also serve as a counselor here at the elementary school.” you began to explain. “although i’ve never counseled a student of my own in fear of bias, i think it would be wise if megumi had someone whom he was acquainted with.”

toji set the slip back down and set his gaze on you. you squeezed your thighs together as he fixed you with his stare. he really was intensely attractive. “hm, how unfair is it that my son gets more alone time with you than i do?” this time he smirked. so it wasn’t your imagination, he was flirting with you.

“mr. fushiguro?”

“i’m only teasing teach.” he chuckled. “i agree. i think we could all benefit from megumi’s counseling,” he folded his arms over his broad chest, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt. “so when does he start?” your eyes zoned in on toji’s biceps before blinking back up at him he pretended not notice you ogling him. “ah well...next wednesday perhaps? all i need is for you to sign the slip.” you said sliding him a pen from your desk.

your fingers brushed against his as he took the pen. you tried to ignore it, knowing he was probably only try to get a rise out of you. he began to scribble his signature, once he finished he stood up from his seat and you followed suit. “thank you mrs. ____ for contacting me.” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake.

you took it, letting his large hands envelope yours. “ah...again it’s just ms. ____. i’m not married.” you corrected him again with a lighthearted laugh. toji smirked at that before he leant in towards you. startled, you froze, afraid he might kiss you, until you realized he was only leaning towards your ear. “we’ll be in touch then, ms. ____.” he spoke in a lower tone. you were left standing there completely dumbstruck as he retrieved his blazer and threw it over his shoulder.

“yes...” you murmured quietly in response as he left you alone in the classroom.

ꔵ three months into counseling with megumi you had begun to see progress. his angered outbursts only came in waves and he had stopped using his hands and started using his words. his attitude toward you had also warmed up and he had even began giving you hugs. you were happy all the exercises you’d been working on with him were finally starting to pay off.

the only big issue? his father.

every time you spoke to him there was always a flirty or suggestive undertone. he never crossed the line but he would constantly get close to doing so. there was one counseling session a couple weeks ago when he came to pick up megumi (something he had suspiciously started doing ever since your counseling had started). you were both standing outside the door of the classroom, with megumi inside coloring, as you briefed toji on his counseling session.

“so he’s doing well then, i’m glad. but how are you doing teach? i know dealing with these little brats all day can’t be good on your stress.�� he said, resting his hand on your forearm. you glanced down at his thumb caressing your skin before laughing nervously, brushing his hand down. “ah...really i’m alright mr. fushi - “

“i’ve told you to call me toji.” he interrupted, his voice dropping to that low tone once again.

you cleared your throat, trying to settle the butterflies that formed in your stomach. “thank you toji. but really i don’t mind it. i’ve been doing this for almost eight years now..” you tried your best not to let your voice waver under this suggestive tension.

toji stepped forward, the space between the both of you becoming almost non existent as your breasts came in contact with his chest. “well just know teach...” he murmured, lifting his fingers to your chin, “if you ever need any stress relief - “

“papa!”

you jumped back from toji like a frightened feline, while toji stood in place clearly unfazed by his child’s sudden presence. you’d been so focused on trying not to jump toji’s bones right then and there, you hadn’t even noticed megumi open the classroom door. “can we go home now? i’m hungry.” he whined, brandishing a cute pout on his face.

you couldn’t help but smile at the cute kid. toji bent down and picked him up, resting him on his hip. “hungry huh? well you can eat this knuckle sandwich for interrupting ms. ____ and i.” he teased, playfully twisting his fist into megumi’s face. megumi giggled slapping away his large hand before turning to look at you. “sorry ms. ____.” he apologized sweetly. yet another skill he’d learned from his counseling sessions.

you grinned and leaned forward to pinch his cheek. “don’t worry about it lovebug! it wasn’t that important anyway.” you chirped, glancing over at toji to see his lips twitch into a frown. you held back a giggle at how identical his pout was to little megumi’s. you leaned into the classroom to take megumi’s backpack off the hook, which toji took and swung over his free arm.

“say goodbye to ms. ____, megumi.” toji instructed. megumi raise his arm to wave, which you met with a small high five instead. “i’ll see you in the morning megumi!” you cheered. toji glanced back at you briefly. “don’t forget about my offer ms. ___.” he said with a wink, before turning back around and walking off with his son.

once he and megumi were out if sight you fell back against the classroom door with a whine. toji fushiguro would truly be the end of you.

ꔵ the afternoon sun shone through your window as you finished up the last of your student reports. as you began to pack up, you heard a knock at your classroom door. “come in!” you called out, not bothering to look up from your work.

you sighed as you gave up on organization and just began to sweep the papers into a folder, but before you could finish, a large hand fell on top of yours. you let out a yelp, looking up to find toji fushiguro smirking down at you. he looked as though he’d come straight from work, blessing you with a tight button down shirt and black slacks. god, he was a work of art.

“afternoon teach.” he greeted you.

“mr. fushiguro what a surprise. what are you doing here? megumi’s gone home already hasn’t he?” you asked, trying to keep calm as a million more thoughts raced through your mind.

“ah, that’s right. he’s long gone. ‘s just you and me.” he said as he fixed you with his strong gaze, his hand closing around yours. “i came because i wanted to thank you. i haven’t seen megumi like this in awhile. i know this was mostly a school thing, but he’s been less of a little shit at home too,” he informed you, his thumb slowly caressing your hand.

you were becoming putty under his touch. “yes...i’m glad gumi’s doing do well at home too. all i want is the best for him.” you answered, stumbling over your words a bit. toji brought your hand up to his lips kissing your knuckles. “mhm...so i was wondering if you’d thought about my offer?” he asked, looking back at you through those lustful eyes.

“mr. fushiguro - “

“toji.”

“t-toji...i’m delighted you would pay me a visit simply to thank me, but it really isn’t necessary.” you could feel his aura start to envelope you, the tension between you two thickening with lust. the most he’d done was kiss your knuckles and already you were trying to keep from rubbing your thighs together.

still holding firmly onto your hand, toji began to walk around your desk. “ms. ____, i insist you let me properly thank you because i feel you’re deserving of it. do you not?” he murmured, gingerly pulling you up out of your seat, guiding your hand towards his chest. your fingers instinctively hooked around the fabric where he’d left his shirt unbuttoned. his other arm snaked its way around your waist.

“toji...we shouldn’t. this is highly unprofessional, i could get fired. and what about megumi?” you rambled, trying to keep your composure. toji leaned down and began to press sweet wet kisses down your neck. you sighed out, letting your hand fan out across his chest.

“megumi will be fine teach. no one has to know anything as long as you can keep a secret. now let me take care of you.” he whispered, licking a stripe up your neck. his knee came to situate between your thighs, you wasted no time grinding against him. a soft moan escaped your lips as you let your head fall back against your shoulders.

“kiss me...please?” you mumured, hooking your arm around his neck. toji’s scar twitched as his lips formed a smirk. he lifted his head, grazing your lips against his before pressing forward. the kiss was rough and sensual, both of you devouring each other in a clash of lips and tongue. you moaned into his mouth, continuing to grind against his thigh. when your lips finally separated, a string of saliva connected you before dripping down onto your blouse.

“enjoying my thigh teach?” he taunted, flexing his thigh muscles and causing you to let out a breathy moan again. “y-you’re teasing me.” you whined desperately trying to grind your clothed clit against his thigh muscles. the hand on your waist slid down taking your thigh and pinning it to his waist, granting you better access. “so needy for me hm?” he murmured into your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth. “tell me what you want baby.”

your hand fisted his collar as you desperately ground yourself against him. “please fuck me toji. i can’t take your constant teasing anymore.” you whimpered, nuzzling into his shoulder. toji chuckled at that before reaching behind you, clearing your desk in one fell swoop. papers and files fluttered to the ground as he lifted you up on top of your desk, spreading your legs.

you both hastily begin unbuttoning your shirts, one of your buttons popping off in the frenzy. toji chuckles as he lowers himself to his knees, his chest muscles rippling as he moves. “i can’t believe you have the nerve to walk around in a tight little skirt like this.” he laughs wickedly, sliding up your pencil skirt until it bunches up at your waist. you feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as the wet spot in your panties becomes noticeable. toji slides his finger up your covered folds, the slick coating his finger prints. “how lovely.” he purrs to himself.

“please...” you whine breathily, scooting forward hoping he’d take the hint. he chuckles darkly blowing against your clothed clit before pulling aside your underwear to marvel at your dripping cunt. “look at that.” he marvels before letting his tongue dip between your folds. you let out a choked moan. it had been so long since you’d been touched this way by someone other than yourself, it felt like heaven. he paused only to hook his fingers around your panties and discard them who knows where.

just as quick as he was gone, he’s back to hungrily bury his tongue in your cunt, switching between prodding your hole with his tongue and sucking your clit. your fingers fisted his raven hair, as you loudly praised his skill through moans and chants. the wet sounds of him slurping and licking up your arousal egged you on to grind against his mouth. waves of arousal just keep coming, whatever his tongue couldn’t catch dripping onto the desk.

your thighs threatened to close around his head as you felt yourself coming close to climaxing. “fuck stop! toji i’m gonna cum,” you whine out, weakly trying to push his head away. you hear him hum in amusement as he instead, moves his hands up to spread your thighs back further. his tongue works your hole, slowly spreading it wider before he’s able to curl his tongue inside. you let out a loud cry, your hips jerking and bucking as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. your vision spots as you cum all over his tongue, your thighs threatening to snap around his head but his hands keep you in place.

toji finishes licking up the rest of your arousal before rising up from between your legs, towering over your trembling figure. one hand comes up to your chin, roughly tilting your head up to look directly at him. “open,” he commands, to which you obey immediately. your tongue rolls out lewdly as he spits your arousal down your throat. “good girl,” he purrs. “now turn around, i’m about to fuck the living daylights out of you.”

eagerly you turn around on your stomach, thankful for the desk supporting your torso as your sure your wobbly legs would not be able to. you hear toji unbuckling behind you as your spread your legs slightly, swaying your hips hoping to entice him to move a bit faster. toji’s hands come to spread over the globe of your ass cheeks, kneading them in his palms.

“you’re so fucking sexy. i’m sure you already know ever since we’ve met this ass has been all i ever think about.” he chuckled, letting his hardened cock slide back and forth between your folds. you let out a whine moving your hips back against him. “i want you to fill me up so badly, please hurry.” your croak out, your voice hoarse from your previous climax. toji brings down his hand against your ass harshly, receiving a yelp in response. “and who you do you think you are ordering me, huh teach? i’m not one of your little first graders baby,” he grunts, spreading your ass cheeks again, letting the tip of his cock tease your aching hole.

“beg for it.” he taunts in a sing-song tone, sliding his cock up and down and against your cunt. your let out a small puff of air as you turn your head back to look at him with your pleading eyes. “please toji...please stuff me full. i haven’t been fucked in so long i wanna be filled up please.” you whimpered, your hips stuttering against his cock, now lubed up with all the juices he’d collected. your begging seemed to please toji, his scar twitching as his lips formed a smug smirk. “good girl.”

toji slammed his cock inside you, no regard for easing you on to his length whatsoever. tears pricked your eyes at the sharp pain, your insides spasming around him. “shit, you feel like a fucking virgin squeezing me so tight. you weren’t kidding about not being fucked in so long, hm?” he chuckled. you didn’t get the chance to respond as he was already pulling out to slam back in. it hurt so good, the pain and the pleasure of being stretched around his girth. he continued to thrust harshly inside your cunt only receiving broken moans and strings of curses from your lips.

his hand came to your hair, his fingers roughly grabbing your head back. your arousal began to return once more, dripping down his cock and making the most obscene squelching and sucking noises. “such a naughty teacher, letting a parent fuck her right in the classroom, huh?” toji’s gruff voice came from behind you. you whined, one of your hands reaching behind you to spread your ass cheeks to grabt him more access. “feels so fucking good, fuck me harder, please.” you manage to say through clenched teeth. “harder baby? you got it.”

before you can even think to react, his arms come to circle around your thighs, lifting you up against his chest. you let out a small cry, your arm instinctively circling around his neck for upper support. toji holds you up, legs spread over his cock. the cool air of the classroom hits your clit causing you whine out in frustration. toji chuckles. “impatient, are we teach?” he murmurs before ramming his hips up into you, his cock sliding back in immediately. “fuck!” you blurt out in surprise.

this new position had him hitting you in places no one had ever discovered and your tits bouncing up and down with fervor. your cunt fluttered, hearing his grunts so much closer to your ear. your lips fall slack, your tongue rolling out ever so slightly as he fucks you dumb. everything just feels so fucking good. “fuck keep squeezing around me just like that teach, i’m gonna cum.” he growls into your ear “fuck...stuff me full of your cum t-toji,” you sob, feeling yourself come closer to your second climax as well.

you bring your free hand down to your clit, rubbing it slow in contrast his quick thrusting. you wanted to savor this feeling. “god, keep touching yourself just like that baby,” he moans, swiveling his head to sink his teeth into to your shoulder. everything seems to slow, the pleasurable drag of his hardened cock against your walls, him hitting your spot just right, the way you sucked him back in as he pulled out...

“toji i’m - “ you can’t even finish before a wave of pleasure knocks over you, your vision spotting once again as he brings you to your climax for a second time. toji continues to fuck into you faster chasing his own high before you feel the spurts of thick cum filling your insides. you’re barely able to think, your fucked out daze taking over. you barely notice him move you off his softening length to set you down. you immediately grab ahold of him, your legs unable to support you at the time. you can feel his cum and your arousal begin to trickle out from your cunt, earning a satisfied whine from your lips. toji laughs softly, leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead. “i haven’t had a good fuck like that in awhile. you were better than i imagined, taking me like that.” he spoke, his voice sounding muffled to you as your daze still hadn’t worn off. you hum softly nuzzling into his warm chest.

toji bites his lip as he looks down at you, you’re just so fucking cute clinging to him that way. he lifts you up on to the desk, carefully dressing you back up. he can’t find your panties so he just pulls you skirt back down from where it had gathered at your waist. he tucks your breasts back into your bra and picks up your blouse from the floor. he smirks at the missing button, doing what he can to close your blouse back up.

you smile gently, watching toji perform his aftercare. this must be the fatherly side of him you rarely get to see. after he’s finished dressing you both back up, he sets his gaze back on you. “so, i’ll see you next wednesday ms. ____?” he asks, settling back into his usual smug demeanor. you scoff before muttering out a small confirmation. he grins that smug toji grin. “perfect then. i’ll be sure to tell megumi you said hello.” he walks out shutting the door behind him, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.

authors note ⋆ hi! this is my first time ever writing and posting something here on tumblr <3 i really hope this wasn’t too bad this took me like three days to write and i deleted and added a bunch of stuff so i hope it isn’t too wacky. thank you for reading!

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Prompt for Feysand: Feysand's first night with Nyx after Feyre and Nyx nearly died

So Lucky

AN: Did I just… write… another one? Fuck yeah I did. I guess this is me trying to make it up to you guys because I will be MIA next week (on a short vacation starting Sunday). It won’t affect The Bet next week (probably) but I won’t be doing anything else so enjoy it while you can lol

Fluff//960 words

“Rhys?”

Rhys immediately entered the bedroom upon hearing the soft call. “Yes, darling?” He kept his voice light, but to be entirely honest, Rhys was worried about Feyre. Madja said she would recover, but he couldn’t help but fear for her after the ordeal her body and mind had undergone.

“I’m thirsty,” his mate rasped.

Rhys made a glass of water appear on the nightstand beside Feyre, who was tucked into bed. She must be too tired to do it herself.

Shooting him a grateful glance, Feyre leaned over and took hold of the glass, sipping lightly. Rhys looked down, distracted from his mate when he heard a babble.

Nyx was in his arms. Their son—who they thought wouldn’t live, who they had been convinced would die with Feyre as her body didn’t support the birth and Rhys as the bargain they’d struck took his life as well. They were so lucky.

Rhys gently rocked his arms, smiling at the babe. Nyx had a small tuft of his father’s midnight black hair, as well as his shimmering violet eyes. He seemed to be taking after his mother personality-wise, however; Nyx was already turning out to be a stubborn little brute, crying whenever they moved him or said anything. When Rhys had shared this revelation to Feyre earlier in the day, she had laughed and threatened to drown him in the Sidra.

“Don’t hog him. I want my baby,” Feyre demanded, unable to conceal a smile of her own.

Rhys grinned and carefully stepped around to his side of the bed and situated himself, handing Nyx to Feyre. She took him eagerly, excited to hold him again but always careful of his little Illyrian wings.

The baby was awake, but barely so. His small mouth was curved in a soft crescent smile as he gazed at his mother. Another babble escaped his lips.

Rhys could feel the joy radiating not only from Feyre’s worn, but beautiful, face; but down the bond, matching his own ecstasy and love. He pulled the blankets onto his lap as he sat against a pillow.

Feyre leaned into him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She turned to Rhys and gave his a peck on the lips. “How are you feeling?”

In response, Rhys opened his mental shields, hitting his mate with a wave of pure, undiluted happiness. She sighed in content, opening her own walls to him.

Nyx started to cry, and they both looked down at him.

Feyre rocked him slightly, using the small amount of magic she had energy for to summon a water wolf, this one a tiny, gentle creature that flew in slow circles around the babe. Nyx giggle excitedly, his little fingers twitching.

Feyre glanced back at Rhys with a smirk. “I don’t know what you meant earlier when you said he was just like me. He got jealous and started crying the moment I spoke to someone else—that’s you, through and through.”

Rhys gasped with mock hurt. “How dare you, darling? I can’t believe you would wound me so.”

Feyre laughed, and glanced back at Nyx. Her magic faded—she was exhausted, and even a small bit of water magic took energy. Later, she would heal. For now, she would have to rest.

Nyx started getting upset at the loss of the water wolf, trying to grab for it as it dissipated. Rhys was quick to send a tendril of darkness over him. He reached for it curiously, and Rhys sent it lower, tickling the baby.

Feyre sighed. “How did we get so lucky.”

It wasn’t a question, not really.

They both smiled at the sight of Nyx fluttering his wings in time with the darkness hovering above him. He wouldn’t be able to fly for a while, but someday, Rhys and Feyre would love to share the skies with him.

“It’s late,” Rhys said. He didn’t want to put Nyx to bed just yet, but the baby’s mother needed her rest.

Knowing exactly why he pointed that out, Feyre sent a sideways glare and replied, “I’m fine.”

“You get grouchy when you’re tired.”

Feyre scowled, but the angry expression instantly disappeared when she glanced back at Nyx. “I suppose he needs to sleep as well. I’m not the only one who’s had a long day.”

Rhys sighed in agreement, taking Nyx from Feyre’s arms. He would need to be the one to take him to his crib, as Feyre couldn’t even walk the short distance to the other side of the room. They were both far too paranoid to let him out of their sights.

Rhys tried to move over on his way off the bed, but Nyx started crying. Again.

He tried cooing to the baby, but Nyx only cried harder. He did not, it seemed, want to leave his parents just yet.

“Just another minute,” Feyre suggested.

Rhys wasn’t hard to convince. He moved back to his earlier position and almost immediately, Nyx quieted.

“So delicate, so needy. Just like his father,” Feyre murmured.

Rhys frowned at her and she grinned. “Don’t you think?”

Rhys just laughed. He watched as Feyre cooed at the baby, tickling his sides, and said, “You’ve gone soft, Archeron.”

She grinned. “So have you, dammit sjm give us his family name.”

They both laughed, though not too loudly. They didn’t want to disturb Nyx.

Feyre planned to get back in shape soon, Rhys knew. And he would help her. Being able to take care of herself was extremely important to her, after what Tamlin had put her through. It was something she’d only been willing to give up temporarily for a baby. A family.

Rhys cuddled with his mate and his son, feeling happy. So, incredibly happy.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@infernoqueen19

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thebonecarver

[janetbrown711]

Can we get a one-shot between yakko and max at the party? Please

Parties.

Yakko remembered those, though they were far and few between. Angelina wasn't necessarily one to celebrate often, but his parents told them tales of celebrations in the past. Singing, dancing, laughing, falling in love, it sounded exciting.

Well- okay, Yakko had technically been to parties before. However, they always lacked the spirit and energy and- well... fun his parents described them with. His grandmother's parties were stiff and uncomfortable, and usually without his siblings.

However, his mother's coronation party was the complete opposite of that. There was music- fiddles and the like- the kind of music that made you want to dance and brought smiles to faces the second the hair touched the strings. There was dancing, real dancing, the fun kind with stomping and twirling that made people lose their breath without even minding because of how fun it was. There was food, there was art, there was singing, there were people- tons of them.

There was a prince.

Yakko hadn't seen him before.

He was a dog- likely no older than Yakko himself. He looked like he was trying to have a good time, but the outfit he was put into was clearly not meant for this level of activity. His hair was messy, with a crown crooked on his head. His eyes were dark like a smoky quartz, and they were looking around the room, attempting to calm an anxiety within (Yakko could relate to that).

The prince made eye contact with Yakko.

Yakko looked back.

"Yakko! Who're ya looking at?" Wakko appeared out of the blue, tugging on Yakko's sleeve and snapping him out of the trance.

"N-no one," He lied. It wasn't like he knew who he was, though he was a prince and most certainly not a nobody.

"But you were looking at someone, telllll meeeee," Wakko tugged on his sleeve.

"Weren't you drawing with chalk?" Yakko huffed.

"Yeah, but you were making heart eyes and I wanted to see," Wakko crossed his arms, huffing right back.

"I-i wasn't actually making heart eyes, right?" Yakko panicked. Wakko and Dot giggled.

"No, but you looked really silly," She grinned cheekily. Yakko rolled his eyes.

"You should talk to him," Dot said, pointing to the prince.

"Put your arm down, it's rude to point," He put her arm down for her, embarrassed. Dot giggled more.

"Talk to him or else we will," She smirked.

"Nope- uh- that's alright, I can talk to him," Yakko quickly said, already making his way to the mysterious prince, Wakko and Dot watching a bit from behind, before Yakko gave them a look and they (wisely) scattered.

Yakko was about halfway there when he realized he had no idea what on earth he was supposed to say to him. He hadn't interacted with someone his age since- well... ever. Much less someone who made him feel like this.

He should've prepared more. He had read many books on romance and even just social interaction. He had read numerous social interactions, both good and bad, and yet his mind was blank as to what to say.

Well, it looked like he was going to have to improvise because before he knew it, his feet had dragged him over and he was right beside the prince, with just enough distance not to be noticed by him yet.

"Okay Yakko, you get one shot," He whispered to himself in preparation. God- he hadn't felt this nervous in a while.

"So... you... come here often?" He asked. The prince turned and looked at him, slightly startled.

"A-aren't you the crown prince?" He asked, his face flushing slightly.

"Oh my god- that was a terrible introduction," Yakko facepalmed. To his surprise, this made the prince laugh.

"It's cool, I-i can get nervous too," He said.

"Sorry, yeah. Can I- uh, start over?" Yakko asked, laughing nervously.

"Okay," The other prince laughed too, which made Yakko's heart flutter a bit.

"My name is Yakko Warner of- well- Warnernstock, but I think you figured that out," Yakko held his hand out.

"I'm Prince Max Goof of Disneyland," Max said, shaking it.

"Disneyland, huh? that's not too far away," Yakko said.

"We border Warnstock, though the castle is right in the middle of the country so it did take a few hours," Max nodded to himself.

"Sooo... what's it like there?" Yakko asked, internally cringing at just how terrible this conversation was. He usually loved talking- why was he so bad at it now?

"It's- uh- well- it's interesting," Max said, scratching the back of his neck. "My dad works with my uncles Mickey and Donald in running the kingdom, and we technically have a really big family that can get pretty overwhelming at times," He explained. "Used to be more, but Mom died when I was born and Uncle Oswald died in a war when I was 5."

"I thought my mom was dead for awhile, so I kinda relate," Yakko said.

"Your grandma is dead too, right?" Max asked.

"Yeah, but that's not a bad thing," Yakko said, just now realizing that the conversation took an odd turn.

"Don't doubt that, from what I've heard," Max laughed, which made Yakko relax.

Maybe this wasn't going terribly.

"But yeah, it's interesting there. What's it like over here in Warnerstock? It's my first time," Max asked.

"It's chaotic too. My grandma-" Yakko paused, not really sure how much he wanted to share. He had just met Max, he didn't want to scare him away this early.

"My grandma was... a piece of work, but my parents are pretty cool," Yakko said, scanning around for them, and finding them on the dance floor happy as can be.

"And I have two younger siblings, so that's... fun," He added, suddenly becoming aware of just how weird and... deeply wrong his life had been up to this point.

"Oh yeah, I think I've seen them around. I think your brother tried drawing chalk around where I was standing so I tried to move but he wouldn't let me till he was finished," Max recalled.

"Sorry- they can be a real handful," Yakko blushed, embarrassed.

"Yeah, Dot and Wakko can stir up a lot of chaos," Yakko tried to say so with a happy, fond look at their mischief, but instead memories of the times it got them in serious trouble flooded his mind, and he frowned.

"Are you- uh- okay?" Max asked.

"I'm... fine. I'm fine," Yakko shook his head, forcing the memories down. "I'm sorry, I just... it's been a lot lately."

"I can believe that, from what I've heard," Max nodded, his eyes soft and sympathetic. Yakko could only nod.

"But hey, at least things are looking up now, huh?" The foreign prince did his best to lift his spirits.

"That is one way to look at it," Yakko agreed, forcing down the knotted feeling in his stomach.

There was a pause, neither prince knowing what to say, each unsure of their emotions, or where to go next in their conversation.

"So... what's your family like?" Yakko asked, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"My dad is... well, he's something alright," Max looked away, embarrassed.

"What do you mean?" Yakko raised an eyebrow.

"He's- well... Goofy. That's his name," Max shrugged. "Though my uncles are pretty cool, though they aren't my uncles in the literal sense," He quickly shifted the subject.

"That must be cool. Both of my parents were only children," Yakko didn't push.

"Yeah. But that doesn't mean it's all great, I'm still an only child. I'm sure it's great to have some siblings around," Max said.

"They do keep things interesting," Yakko snorted, looking through the crowd, finding them spying on him yet again. He shot them another look, and the two scattered.

"But I don't know anyone my own age really, and at times I've felt more like a parent than a sibling," Yakko admitted, though he didn't know why.

"I don't know anyone my own age really either," Max said.

"But... I could know you, if you want," He offered. Yakko looked at him, and found he was blushing and looking away.

"I wouldn't mind that," He said, a small smile growing on his face. Max looked at him and smiled back, the fluttering feeling returning.

"You're really-..." Cute? Pretty? Handsome? Yakko knew a thousand words but he had no idea how to describe Max's appearance, especially in a way that made sense.

"Cool?" Max seemed to know his plight.

"Yes! Cool," Yakko snapped his fingers, which made Max laugh.

"You're... cool," He said.

"Thanks," Max punched his arm lightly. "You're cool too."

Another pause. Yakko was becoming increasingly aware that he simply had no idea how on earth to talk to anyone who wasn't a family member. He had no idea what normal things for people like Max were.

Yakko realized he had no idea how to be a kid.

"Do you wanna dance?" Max asked, snapping him out of the train of thought.

"O-oh, uh- I'm a terrible dancer, I couldn't possibly-" Yakko made excuses as his eyes went to the dance floor, where he discovered his parents were watching him too. They both had goofy grins on their faces and gave him a big thumbs up and Yakko's face turned bright red.

"Oh I'm a terrible dancer too, I just figured it'd be fun. I've been observing them long enough, I think I figured it out," Max said.

"Well I guess if you really want, we can be terrible together," Yakko couldn't look him in the eyes, his face still as red as a tomato.

"I-i mean if you don't want to..." Max put his hands in his pockets.

"No, it- it'll be fun. Let's do it," Yakko shook away the flustered feeling, holding his hand out for Max. Max took it.

"I'm not joking when I say I'm a terrible dancer though. I once had to dance with a lady and I nearly tore her dress because I kept stepping on it," Max admitted sheepishly as Yakko took him towards where the people were dancing.

"Well lucky for you, I'm no lady and have no dress to tear," He said, surprised at his sudden wit. Good- maybe that meant he stop embarrassing himself and have a good conversation.

"Y-yeah," Max said. God- he was just so-... so-

Yakko was starting to get annoyed at his suddenly small vocabulary.

"I think I actually know this dance. I'll wait for an opening and then you can follow my lead," Yakko told him.

"Ok-okay, if that's what you want then-" Max couldn't finish his sentence before Yakko found an opening and before he knew it, they were pulled into a dance.

Yakko was thankful he actually paid attention to the book on dances and read the full thing, because while his grandmother had only wanted him to read the formal, ballroom dances, he read the whole thing through and found the town dance section and now knew what he was doing. A luck Max clearly didn't have, but that almost made it more fun. He had only just met Max, but it was clear Max trusted and liked him to some extent, and Yakko felt the same. There was just something about him Yakko couldn't describe.

"Relax, it's all fun," Yakko said to him, and Max loosened up a bit, making the movement a lot easier. Soon, the speed picked up, and the stomps and jumps intensified and the rest of the world just melted away, as all the boys were focused on were each other. Sure, there were a few times that they stepped on each other's feet or they were off from everyone else, but they just laughed it off and continued having fun.

Fun.

Despite how much Yakko embarrassed himself, he was having fun.

Hell- this was probably the most fun he had ever had in his whole life. All of his previous stress and anxieties melted away- this was fun.

Max was fun.

Yakko really, really liked him.

Eventually, after a long while of dancing, the song came to an end, and Yakko and Max were left panting as they stood close to each other. For a moment they looked into each other's eyes, before realizing where they were and both taking a step back.

"Well that was- well-" Max really wasn't one for words, was he?

"It was fun," Yakko said for him. The foreign prince nodded.

"It was fun," He grinned a little.

"You totally lied to me though, you're a good dancer," Max punched his arm again. Yakko laughed.

"I meant more like- ballroom stuff. I'm so terrible at ballroom dancing, my grandmother basically banned me from dancing," He snorted.

"I've basically banned myself- I dance a lot like my dad... usually," Max said. Yakko had never met Goofy, but from the name alone he could get a pretty good picture.

"Don't sell yourself short, you were pretty good," Yakko encouraged as they began to walk back to their previous place.

"Yeah... well... thanks," Max said. "I..." He stopped to think about his words.

"I don't have a lot of friends... especially those my age. People usually find me- well- awkward and weird and... like my dad, basically. But you're... you're cool," He managed to say.

God, Yakko could relate to that.

"You're cool too," Yakko said, looking him in the eyes.

They stood in an entranced silence for a little while, before they heard the music start up again, and they watched the dancers for a while.

"So... what do you like to do? Got any... hobbies?" Max asked.

"I read and study a lot," Yakko shrugged.

"You like studying?" Max genuinely questioned.

Yakko thought about that. "I mean... I think so? I don't know... I guess I just do it a lot."

"Ah," was all Max could really say to that.

Stupid trauma.

"What about you?" Yakko switched the conversation.

"I like doing sports, they're one of my bigger strengths," Max replied.

"That makes one of us- I'm pretty sure no one can be less pathetic than me," He snorted. "Even my seven-year-old sister is better at sword fighting than me."

"And it's not like I don't have the genes or anything- my dad's a knight for crying out loud, I don't know why I have a bad case of noodle arms," Yakko joked, which made Max laugh.

"You don't have to be physically strong, being smart is equally as good," he said.

"Until you have to protect people," Yakko thought to himself.

"Yeah," He said aloud.

Stupid, stupid trauma.

"Besides, I could try and give pointers if you wanted," Max said. That snapped Yakko out of those thoughts in an instant.

"P-pointers? When would we do that?" He asked. Max shrugged.

"I dunno. But what I do know is that you can visit my kingdom anytime, uncle Mickey and my dad love guests," He invited.

"Is... is that normal?" Yakko asked. Max blinked.

"Yeah? Did- have you never had any guests at your castle?" He asked, trying his best not to sound weirded out.

"Outside of the occasional ambassador and ball, no," Yakko admitted.

"Well, then I guess you'll definitely have to come over sometime," Max said.

"Yeah... I guess I will," Yakko managed to smile.

Suddenly, it dawned on Yakko how late it was becoming. The crowds grew smaller and smaller, as the sun had set hours ago. He looked around and saw someone wearing the emblem of Disneyland who looked like they were watching over Max sitting and possibly waiting for them to be done so he could take him home. Yakko frowned.

"You have to go now, don't you?" Yakko asked. Max looked at the man Yakko had noticed. He sighed.

"It is really late... don't get me wrong though- this was easily the most fun I've had in a long, long time," Max said. "I just- I have to go home eventually."

"No, trust me, i get it," Yakko smiled softly at him. Max returned the look.

"I'll... I'll see you again though, right? You'll stop by my castle?" He asked.

"Of course," Yakko nodded seriously.

The man across the way seemed to take notice of the lack of conversation, making his way towards the pair. Yakko sighed.

"I'll see you later then," He said.

"Yeah, see you," Max didn't know what to do so he punched his arm lightly before waving and going with the guard.

"See you..." Yakko said to himself, watching him go.

Max sure was something...

"Did you have fun tonight?" A voice from behind startled Yakko.

"Oh mom- it's just you," He relaxed. "Yeah- I did."

"Your siblings are both practically asleep, not that I'm surprised," Lena chuckled. Yakko scanned the area for them and found them both curled up by the bonfire. He snorted.

"That's Wakko and Dot alright: boundless energy until they crash," He said. Lena nodded.

"Who was that prince?" His mother asked with a slight smirk. Yakko blushed.

"His name is Max, he's from Disneyland," He said.

"Disneyland... I haven't heard from them in a long time," Lena thought out loud.

"Well, he seems to really like you," She looked back at him.

"He's cool," Yakko shrugged.

"Just 'cool?'" Lena teased. Yakko gave her a weird look. Lena laughed.

"Never mind, you'll figure it all out in due time," She wrapped an arm around him as they began walking back inside.

"What about Wakko and Dot?" Yakko asked, looking back at them.

"Your father will carry them to bed, they'll be fine," Lena said. Yakko nodded to himself.

"So... Max, hm? Do you want to see him again?" She asked.

"Can I?" He asked. Lena chuckled.

"Of course, it's been so long since I've spoken to them, and now that I'm queen, a visit or two isn't beyond reason," Lena said.

"Oh right, you are the queen," Yakko realized.

"Strange, right?" She joked.

It was strange, to think of his grandmother in the past tense. She was queen. His mother is queen.

"Yep," He said, before sighing.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed," he said.

"After all that, I bet. Goodnight darling," Lena gave him a hug, which he quickly returned before going back inside without her.

So this was what it was like to be a normal kid... well- attempting to be a normal kid, anyway. Parties, fun, making friends, butterflies...

Yakko was going to have to do a lot more studying this next while to see if he could get a grasp on what it was exactly he felt for Max, otherwise, he was certain he was going to go mad.

Still, despite the emotional swirl in his chest, he knew he had a good time. Max was cool and Yakko liked being around him-- that much he couldn't deny.

Yakko couldn't wait to see him again.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

[talkfastromance4]

Indigo--Calum Hood [one]

A/N: I can’t believe it’s finally arrived! Thank you all for being so patient while it took me literally two months to write this fic. It’s my first ever slow burn and the longest fic to date (word wise). This means so much to me and I really put my heart and soul into this. This is also written in Calum’s perspective!

Word count: 12.2k (36k total)

Warnings: themes of emotional infidelity but really all internal with no actions,  confusing emotions and thoughts, nudity, slight mention of body image issues, casual drinking, jealousy, sexual situations

Masterlist

Indigo playlist--really just songs that helped inspire this piece so give it a listen if you’d like!

Feedback is always welcome and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! 

This is split in three parts because Tumblr's new post limit I can't fit it all in one post. So I'll be posting them all at once!

Enjoy!

***

Calum agreed to help out Sarah and Andy with their latest project. He wasn’t quite sure what it was exactly but anything they create is phenomenal and he’s ecstatic to be a part of it. He’d just texted Bianca, his girlfriend, that he’ll be gone for a better part of the afternoon when he arrives at Sarah and Andy’s place. Pebbles greets him at the door, her whole body wiggling with excitement by his presence.

“There’s our man!” Sarah chirps from the table, her camera and other gadgets placed on the table.

“We aren’t shooting here?” Calum asks bending down to pet Pebbles.

“No, there’s this meadow that gets the sun’s rays perfectly at this time,” Andy informs walking in with his own camera bag. “We’re meeting someone else there, too so we should get going.”

“Someone else?”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

The sun is beating down on Calum’s back as he walks through the tall grass behind Sarah and Andy. They’re a good distance away from the road and he hopes they won’t go too much further and land in the fate of a 90’s horror film. Andy and Sarah are talking quietly with each other and Calum checks his phone, no new messages from Bianca.

“All right, we’ll start setting up and you just sit and relax until she gets here,” Andy directs to Calum when they stop at a fallen tree that has moss growing on it and its roots extending to the sky.

“Who is ‘she’?” Calum asks, taking a seat on the tree. He wipes at the back of his neck, it’s sticky with sweat. His lips are starting to get chapped and he wishes he brought his water bottle.

Andy and Sarah exchange a look.

“She’d prefer to be anonymous so I can’t tell you,” She responds ominously and unzips her camera bag.

“Anonymous?” Calum is baffled. Andy and Sarah make a point to avoid the topic as they continue to gather their equipment.

In about ten minutes there was another figure walking through the grass and Calum peered at her trying to get a good look. Her hair was blowing in the slight breeze and bangs framed her face. Calum was intrigued when she was first mentioned.

Watching her walk towards them made him think of those snapshots in your life that sticks with you. Something inside of him told him this would be one of those moments.

She was short, which was the first thing he noticed when she stopped in front of him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late. Traffic, y’know,” she smiles at Andy and Sarah.

He notices there’s a hint of purple in her hair.

She’s short and has purple hair.

“No problem, sweetie. We were just getting things ready. This is Calum,” Sarah nods towards him and the mystery girl turns in his direction too.

“Hi Calum, thanks for helping,” she smiles.

“No problem, Anonymous,” he grins standing from his tree and holds out his hand.

“Oh, right,” she snickers, stepping forward to take his hand. “You can call me Indie.”

She’s short, has purple hair, and likes to be called Indie.

“Nice to meet you Indie.”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Andy and Sarah first have Calum and Indie sit next to each other on the tree while they take some sample shots. This way Calum and Indie can get to know each other a little better. Calum notices the ink on her wrists, arms, and a nose piercing. She asked about his music and what inspires him. He asked what she does and she very offhandedly said with a shrug,

“Social media stuff.”

And that was the end of that. She didn’t add anything more and Calum wasn’t sure if he should ask for her to clarify but her statement had a tone of finality to it.

She definitely intrigues Calum.

“Okay, Indie, can you swing your leg over the tree like you’re riding a horse and lean on Calum’s shoulder?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah.”

Indie does as she’s directed then rests her arm on Calum’s shoulder, her head dropping on top of her arm.

“Both of you look at me...good, now Cal, look down at Indie...good, good. Okay, now I want you to put your leg over his...close your eyes for me, babe. That’s it! Beautiful.”

They continue with different poses on the tree and each touch Indie gives to Calum makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His body becomes attuned to her touch until Sarah tells Indie to undo her shirt and lay her head on Calum’s lap.

Calum swallows thickly and watches Indie undo the buttons. He looks away quickly wanting to give her privacy and instead looks towards the direction of the road hoping they’re far enough away from peering eyes.

“Now lie across his lap and let the shirt fall over his legs. Yup, Cal... Calum!”

“Huh?” Cal whips his head forward and feels the weight of Indie’s head on his knees. He’s forcing himself to not look down but his body is aware of her weight on him.

He knows this is all a form of art, but he just met the girl and he was unaware this is how the shoot was going to go. He’s posed shirtless for Andy and Sarah multiple times but never with someone else. And never with a girl with purple hair, a gentle voice, and a pen name.

“Lay your arm over her chest.”

“What? Is that okay?” he looks down to Indie’s eyes, they’re a striking deep blue. Like the deepest part of the ocean and he gets a little lost in them. “Is that okay that I do that?” he asks her this time.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she nods with a smile. “Thank you for asking.”

Calum carefully places his arm across Indie’s exposed chest; he notices how warm her skin already is from the sun but also feels the small poke of her nipples on the softest part of his arm.

“Cover her nipples a bit, Cal, she’s going to post these on her Instagram and you know their dumbass guidelines about breasts,” Sarah rolls her eyes adjusting her camera.

Calum adjusts his arm which means he has to look where her nipples are. He knows the human body is art in its natural form, and he admires the female body so why is he nervous? Is it because they literally just met and her top is open?

He curses himself. It’s not like they’re making an adult film or anything, this is an artistic moment. Shit, why did he think of an adult film because now a million different scenarios flash in his mind. While he places his arm across her chest, he sees some more ink below her breasts but he can’t quite make out the design.

“Indie, put your hands on his arm, spread your fingers…”

Calum hears the rapid shutter speed of her camera as she captures the intimate moment between strangers. Calum wonders why he was chosen to do this. Obviously, Michael wasn’t at the top of the list because he and Crystal are married, and Luke and Sierra just announced their engagement. KayKay is no novice in front of the camera, but maybe they wanted a girl and guy? Usually, Ashton is up for anything involving the human body.

“Cal, you have your thinking face on, man. Relax,” Andy says.

“Don’t be nervous,” Indie whispers gazing up at him.

Those damn blue eyes again. The purple in her hair really makes them pop and he notices a small freckle at the corner of her eye.

“You’re not?” his voice is hushed so Andy and Sarah don’t hear.

“Of course, I am, this is way out of my comfort zone. But this is art, and I want to explore it,” she shrugs.

It eased him that she was nervous as well. He took a deep breath and fixed her bangs in her face.

“That’s good, that’s really good, act natural,” Sarah advises.

“I like the purple,” he compliments, “it really comes out in the sun and makes your eyes stand out.”

“Thank you. I can’t really see your face because of the sun,” she squints up at him and giggles. Calum smiles at the sound.

The session continues and eventually Calum removes his shirt as well which he’s thankful for because he was starting to sweat. He told himself it was because the sun is at its hottest spot in the sky, not because of some cute girl with purple hair and tattoos with her shirt open.

He leans forward on his knees with Indie standing behind him and the tree, her chest pressed to his back and her hands locked under his neck. He wonders if she can hear how loud his heart is beating.

Another pose has him sitting in the grass with her legs hanging over his shoulders. Calum tickles her toes and she squeals out in laughter and Calum knows those will be great shots.

“Hey! Tickling is forbidden!” she laughs. “I will kick you and it will be your fault.”

“You won’t kick me,” he shakes his head but stops tickling her then notices another tattoo on the outside of her ankle. He looks to his right and sees a small red train on the inside of that ankle. “You have a lot of tattoos. What does this one mean?”

His finger traces the red outline of the train and the small speckle of stars shooting from the chimney.

“I loved Thomas the train engine.”

Calum looks up at her not believing her for a second. From this angle he forgets what his smart-ass remark was going to be because her naked midriff distracted him greatly. The ends of her hair tickled over her nipples, her bangs framing her face perfectly.

She gives him a radiant smile that he can’t deny by returning one of his own.

“All right, that’s it for this spot. Ready to head out Indie?” Sarah asks, pulling them from their small moment of connection.

“Yeah, I’m starved,” Indie buttons up her top.

“Want to come, Cal? We’re getting pizza at Marco’s,” Andy says.

“Uh, let me check my phone quickly, hang on,” he pulls out his phone then slips his shirt back on over his head. One notification from Bianca and she just gave his text to her a thumbs up. “Yeah, pizza sounds great.”

He walks next to Indie back to their cars.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

“How would you guys feel about doing a night shoot back at our place? The city lights in the skyline would be perfect,” Sarah says when she finishes off the last piece of pizza.

“I’m down for that. Can it be partially nude?” Indie asks, sucking up the last of her root beer from the vintage red cup.

“Absolutely,” Sarah nods.

“What do you say, Calum?” Indie looks up to Calum and he feels like she’s challenging him.

“I’m in,” he nods. He’s always up for a challenge.

The night shoot is out on Sarah and Andy’s balcony. Calum watches Sarah and Indie first from the doorway. Indie has her top open again leaning against the railing. She stretches her arms up above her head, extending her torso and Calum can get a better glimpse of that tattoo below her breasts.

It looks like celestial with moons and stars. As the photos progress, she slips it all the way off and leans over the railing. She does a profile view then reaches her hand out to Sarah’s camera for a close up of her fingers. The two women are giggling and Calum won’t deny how natural and confident Indie is in front of the camera even though she admitted to being nervous to him earlier.

Was she telling him the truth or was she just doing that to keep up this anonymous persona?

“Sarah has a way of making people feel comfortable in front of the camera. It’s her loving nature,” Andy explains as if reading Calum’s mind. “This is all Indie’s idea by the way, the shoot. She wants to do a body positivity session.”

“That’s…” Calum watches with wide eyes as Indie drops her shorts and panties then he sees her cute little bare ass. “Nice.” He clears his throat since she’s completely bare. Andy chuckles and nudges him in the ribs.

Calum is suddenly in the need of a cigarette; his fingers begin to twitch.

He watches her as she and Sarah continue to interact. Indie keeps her backside facing Sarah and Calum spots yet another tattoo on the back of her shoulder. Why’d she choose him to be a part of it? Or was it Andy and Sarah who chose him?

Calum opens his mouth to ask when Sarah calls him over.

“Get your ass out here, Hood, it’s your turn. Sit in the chair,” Sarah commands, pulling up said chair right in front of Indie.

Calum keeps his gaze on Indie’s face when he sits in the chair in front of her, his head seems a bit clearer now without her naked body in front of him.

“Shirt off?” he jokes, trying to ease his own tension.

“Please,” Sarah grins and he peels it off again. Of course, she’d say yes. “Baby, can you get the lights for me?”

The outside lights shut off by Andy and replaced by color changing string lights hanging in the rafters. Calum stares up above as they transition from green to yellow to orange and finally to some sort of purple/blue hybrid. Indie’s face comes into view over his shoulder, her fingers dance on his shoulders, her eyes are shining, and her hair is more purple with the added hue.

“Magical,” Sarah comments.

Indie smiles at him and he couldn’t agree more with Sarah’s statement and a few notes of a soft melody sprout in his head.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Calum stayed up all night going through Indie’s Instagram. He thought it would show her real name and he’ll deny to his dying breath that he did NOT spend an hour trying to find her profile. Turns out, her social media persona is displayed as Indie too and he wonders why.

Her posts are all about body positivity which include photos of her body that look professionally done in his opinion. Each pose is perfectly posed so you can’t really see everything but know that she’s fully naked. He tries to make out the tattoos he couldn’t see from the night before, but it’s hard with how her body twists and the way they’re edited.

He reads through some of the comments, agreeing with the ones telling how hot and gorgeous she is. He wanted to tell off the creeps and defend her because her message was about loving your body.

Her photos and posts are real and authentic. She talks about her own insecurities, how learning to love her body seems to be an ongoing lesson. He admires her rawness and understands seeing something different when you look in the mirror but when he sees her...he wonders how she can see flaws.

His phone rings right after he hits ‘follow’ and the noise scares him. His heart plummeted when he saw it was Bianca.

“Hey, babe,” he greets and she immediately rattles off about her day.

Calum puts her on speaker so he can continue to scroll through the photos of him and Indie she posted from their shoot. There are comments from some fans inquiring if he and Bianca broke up.

Bianca didn’t really say anything about his photoshoot, but she doesn’t really say much about what he does anyway.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

The guys are taking a little creative break after bouncing back chords, verses, and beats that they’ve been working on since six in the morning. Ashton was complaining about needing his fifth cup of iced coffee and Michael was starving so the two of them left to pick up lunch and coffee.

Luke and Calum remained behind like always. Luke never stopped working and Calum always kept him company, enjoying the sounds of his soft guitar playing. Ashton’s lava lamp changes to purple and Calum is reminded of Indie so he pulls out his phone and goes to her Instagram.

She’s made a few new posts within the last several days. The first one is of her standing in front of her bathroom mirror with a towel wrapped around her. Her eyes are wide and bright, her hair is in wet strands and the steam frames her reflection. The next one is darker with the towel dropped; two small black hearts are placed on her breasts.

She captioned it: “conversations with myself about loving me are the hardest conversations I have. Sometimes they’re serious and other times goofy, but that’s with the aid of rum. Being gentle with yourself seems so easy until you come face to face.”

The second most recent post is of her and another guy at some sort of festival. They both have on circular sunglasses and the photos are a little blurry. One is a close up of the guy but he’s out of focus and eating a corn dog. The next one is of the two of them standing in front of a funhouse mirror; she has her fingers up in a peace sign. There’s one of them eating cotton candy and the last is of them on the Ferris wheel.

She just captions it as ‘memories.’

The last one she posted was from several hours ago and it was another photo shoot. She was posed with the same guy from the festival only this time she was topless and his arms were around her in front of a mirror. Another one has her lying on a bed with her head hanging off the edge and she’s upside down. The guy is resting his head on her stomach, both of them are looking at the camera and he’s shirtless too. The last one is of her twisted on the bed under the sheets, her ass peeking out and she’s spread across the guy. His hand is very low on her back.

Calum feels a pang in his chest. The pictures are great and all but why is he feeling this sharp pain and warmth in his cheeks?

“Woah, are you on OnlyFans right now?” Luke snorts and Calum jumps from the sound of his voice.

“What?”

“Pretty raunchy, don’t ya think?” Luke grins and then something clicks within Calum.

Could Indie have an OnlyFans account? Is that what she meant by “social media stuff”? He knows it’s one of the most popular adult content websites right now and that pay is really good if you post a lot. Is Indie her...sex name? Is that what that’s called?

“D’you think she has an OnlyFans?”

“I dunno. Who is she?” Luke stops his guitar playing to look at Calum.

“I...I uh did a shoot with her, Andy, and Sarah a few weeks ago.”

“Really? What did you do?”

Calum brings up the session he and Indie did together, handing his phone over to Luke. He suddenly feels very self-conscious and almost wants to snatch his phone back so Luke doesn’t see Indie bare chested. But she posted it on her public Instagram so anyone can see it.

“Wow, you really did a nude shoot?”

“We had our pants on,” Calum scoffs, trying to take his phone back but Luke stretches his arm out of his grasp.

“She doesn’t in these next ones.”

“Give me my phone!” Calum scrambles over Luke’s broad frame to get his phone back. He settles back on the couch in a huff. “Don’t look at those.”

“You showed it to me! Who is she anyway?”

“I don’t really know. She goes by the name Indie but I don’t think that’s her real name.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we arrived at the meadow for the shoot, Andy said we were meeting someone else there and when I asked who it was; Sarah said she wanted to be anonymous. She posts a lot about body positivity and I asked what she does for a living and all she said was social media stuff.”

“OnlyFans is social media. What did Bianca have to say about these photos?”

“Not much,” Calum shrugs and he gets a Twitter notification from her. Does she have a sixth sense to post or call when he’s talking about her?

He opens up the notification and she’s talking about him but very vaguely by only calling him ‘boyfriend’ with a photo attached of him looking down at his phone while they were out to dinner the other night. She brags about him online but hardly does anything with him when they are together. He’s starting to forget why he’s dating her in the first place.

“She had nothing to say about you posing topless with another woman?” Luke’s guitar playing stops and his eyebrows are raised.

“Nope,” Calum sighs and likes Bianca’s post anyway. Their relationship seems to only be about ‘liking’ each other’s posts lately.

“That’s...odd. So, why’re you looking at this girl Indie’s insta anyway?”

“I like what she posts. It’s real and true and a lot of people relate to it. It’s nice,” Calum shrugs. “And she was cool to hang out with at the photo session.”

“Ah, I see. You’re jealous you aren’t in those photos with her.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

“Yeah you are, and you didn’t want me to see her naked bum.”

“How would Sierra feel about that?”

“She’d look with me,” Luke shrugs, “you know that. See if she tagged the guy and find out who he is. If he has an OnlyFans then there’s a possibility she might have one, too.”

“How does that make sense?” Calum asks but clicks on the tagged name anyway because he’s not thinking properly and his curiosity is getting the best of him.

“They promote new content with whoever they did it with.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Saw it on TikTok, and there was that rumor that Ash has an OnlyFans so I Googled about it.”

“That’s a weird thing to Google.”

“Please, you’ve Googled worse. So, who is the bloke?” Luke peers over his best friend’s hand to look at his phone screen.

Calum looks back down at his phone on the new profile. He has quite a massive following and a small bio.

“His name is Ian, he’s a model and an extra in TV shows. There’s a link under his name but he posted photos with her, too.”

Calum taps on the post to see it’s of them in that damn bed again. Indie is straddling him but she has on some sort of lace outfit and Ian’s hands are on her waist. They’re both laughing and facing the camera.

“He wrote ‘always a blast doing sessions with you.’ Does that mean photo sessions or OnlyFans stuff?”

“How am I supposed to know? Why does it concern you anyway?”

That stops Calum short. Why does it concern him? His mind is spiraling with his conflicting emotions and the desire to search for more information about this Ian guy. He tosses his phone on the opposite end of the couch.

“It doesn’t concern me. I was curious and now I know you and Sierra subscribe to OnlyFans.”

“What? I didn’t say that at all!” Luke squeaks then narrows his eyes. “Don’t change the subject. Why does it matter if she has one or not?”

“I want to understand her, she didn’t tell me much about her and I’m not sure why.”

“She probably wants to keep her life private. Does she have a big following for what she posts?”

“Yeah.”

“Then maybe she doesn’t want people knowing her business. You can understand that, can’t you?”

“Of course, I can, I--she intrigues me, that’s all. I want to know more about her.”

“Why do you want to know more about her?”

“I don’t know! She...her purple hair and nose ring and tattoos...and her eyes are so damn blue. I don’t understand it.”

Luke is silent for several moments staring at Calum, his blue eyes imploring his friend to tell more. Luke‘s looking at Calum as if he knows something.

Calum is lost in his confusion. Luke moves from the couch and picks up Calum’s notebook and his favorite type of pen. He holds them out to Calum.

“Write about it. Figure it out.”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Calum tried to write about it and figure it out and he was a little ashamed of himself for searching for Indie on OnlyFans a few days later after talking with Luke. It made him feel pervy, and even though he didn’t find her, it wouldn’t have changed his outlook on her at all if she did have an account. It only makes him want to learn more about her and not the small number of half-truths he received.

It’s been a month since he saw her and he’s at a party with Roy and Bianca. Bianca was off with her friends so Calum and Roy were left to their own devices which were perfectly fine for Calum. He’s always up for a good time but only when it’s with his close friends who are more like family, not a hundred people who sneak photos of him when they walk by.

He’s scanning the crowd--people watching is his favorite thing to do--when he spots someone with purple hair walk by.

“Indie! Hey!” Roy literally took the words right from Calum’s mouth.

Roy knows Indie?

Indie turns at the sound of her name waiting for her friend to pass and she smiles upon seeing Roy then shows her teeth in a radiant smile when she sees Calum right next to him. She’s got on some overall shorts with one of the straps unbuttoned and a tight black shirt that stops at her midriff. There’s some glitter on her face and Calum is mystified once more.

“Hey Cal, fancy seeing you here. Hey Roy,” she smiles at him and Roy pulls her into a hug. Calum feels a twinge of jealousy that he didn’t receive a hug.

“You two know each other?” Calum asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, Indie comes to my meditation sessions once in a while. It’s been too long since the last one, missy.”

“I’ve been working!” she giggles shoving his shoulder playfully. “I’m in need of a good meditation zone, though. Oh, this is my friend, Travis.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” Travis shakes Calum and Roy’s hands.

Calum eyes him up but before he can say anything else, Travis mentioned something about finding their group of friends.

“I’ll send you details on the next mediation,” Roy tells her before she heads out.

“I look forward to it. Have a nice time,” she smiles at them both and lets Travis guide her through the crowd.

Calum is a bit upset he didn’t really get to talk to her as he watches her disappear into the sea of people. He continues listening to Roy and his latest idea for a new album and what it will be based around. He hums and comments in the spaces he’s supposed to but his mind is off on someone else.

And then he wonders where the hell Bianca got off to.

“What’s wrong with you, man? Your mind is out of this world right now,” Roy comments.

“Nothing, nothing,” Calum shakes his head gruffly and then Bianca appears handing Calum a drink.

“You look parched,” she kisses his cheek and he feels the sticky residue of her lip gloss on his skin.

Calum continues to search for Indie as the night goes on, wanting to discuss how her body positivity project is going. He smiles and poses in the photos with Bianca; he knows both of their smiles are fake. Whenever she touches him, he doesn’t get that same feeling he did when Indie touched him in the meadow.

It’s a little after midnight as he exits the bathroom and bumps into someone.

“Oops, sorry, my faul--Indie! Hey!” he grins down at her.

“Oh! Hi again. Having a good time?” she asks brightly.

“It’s all right, how about you?”

“Not really in the mood to party tonight,” she shrugs, “but my friend Travis from earlier likes a guy here so I’m his wing woman.”

“What a good friend you are,” he smiles. “Have they met up?”

“I got a text from him with the tongue emoji, the fire emoji, and the drooling emoji,” she counts off on her fingers. “I’ve walked around this place twice so I’m assuming he’s all good,” she chuckles.

“So, you’re here all alone?”

“Yeah. I was just about to order an Uber--”

“I can take you home if you’d like. You shouldn’t take an Uber alone.”

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind--”

“Hey baby, some of the girls want to go to the club. I’ll see you later,” Bianca appears and gives Calum a very fleeting kiss on the cheek.

“Okay, before you go, this is Indie; remember how I did that photoshoot a month ago?”

Bianca glances at Indie who gives her a bright smile.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet--”

“Oh, yeah! Where you were both half naked! Very hot. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says offhandedly to Calum then runs off to her friends.

“Nice to meet you, too!” Indie finishes in a half-shout and Calum laughs. “She’s a woman on a mission, huh?”

“Yeah, always has to be where the party's at. How about that drive home?”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Once in his car, Indie connects her phone to his Bluetooth and puts on her playlist along with the address of her apartment. Calum watches her scroll through her phone until she selects the first song; its vibe is very chill, fitting the mood of the blue color of his car’s interior lighting. He keeps glancing over to her; the blue really brings out the purple in her hair. She then pulls her hair back and up behind her head in a makeshift ponytail, fanning herself with the other hand.

“Hot?” he asks while pressing the button for the AC. she lets out a yelp of surprise when the cool air blows on her neck from the headrest of her seat.

“I need my seats to have this feature,” she sighs then lets her hair drop over her shoulder. “Thank you for taking me home. Will you meet up with...oh my God, what’s your girlfriend’s name?” she presses her hands to her face, eyes widening in horror. “She left before you could introduce her.”

“Her name’s Bianca, and no, I’ll probably go home. Club life isn’t really my style.”

“Are you hungry?” she asks.

“For what?” He peers at her curiously.

“Have you ever had insomnia cupcakes?”

When they arrive at the small cupcake shop they read over the flavors listed on the bulbous glass display case. The cupcakes are the size of muffins and each time Indie nudges closer to him, he can smell her perfume. It’s citrus with a hint of something else he can’t place but she smells wonderful.

Indie ends up getting a strawberry cupcake with white frosting and pink sprinkles and Calum gets a confetti one which she teases him about.

“What’s wrong with confetti?!” he laughs following her outside and sits at one of the round metal tables.

“It’s like the second most vanilla flavor you could get. Live on the edge!” she swipes off a bit of frosting and sucks it off with a low satisfied moan.

Her eyes close relishing then taste and Calum gets momentarily distracted by her reaction to the cupcake.

“Well, isn’t that vanilla frosting? Not too on the edge yourself, are ya?”

“It’s not vanilla. Here,” she holds her cupcake in front of him, her eyes testing him. “Try a taste.”

He swipes her frosting off, eyes still on hers and he pops his finger in his mouth. His tongue is full of a very zesty lemon flavor, it’s sugary and sweet but light enough where it’s not too overbearing.

“Shit, that’s good.”

“Told you! Now you enjoy your plain confetti over there,” she wiggles in her chair taking her cupcake back. She swipes up more frosting.

“You eat the frosting first?” he asks, unfolding the paper from his cupcake.

“Mhm, the cake is the best part.”

He watches her in wonder as she continues to eat before taking a very large bite of his own treat. Frosting gets on his nose and she loses it when he wipes it off.

“Did I get it all?” he asks, sucking off the frosting from his thumb.

“You missed a spot...right here!”

Somehow she snuck some frosting on her pinky finger and rubbed it onto his cheek and nose. Calum was dumbfounded then when he saw her practically rolling in her chair from laughing, he joined her and wiped it off on her own.

“Thanks for that,” he laughs, licking off the lemon frosting.

“I’m sorry, I had to,” she shrugs and licks off the rest of her frosting from her cupcake.

“I’m going to get you back for that, Indie. Mark my words.”

“I’m trembling in my overalls,” she mocks with a smile.

“You should be,” he teases and takes another large bite of his cupcake.

When their cupcakes are finished they’re back in his car and her music fills the air with sound. He makes note of the band on his screen, Linus Young, so he can look them up later. He turns it down on the song titled ‘Crystal Ball.’

“How’s your latest project coming along?” he asks then moves into the middle lane.

“Pretty good, I guess. I want to do a couple more shots before I do a post. Sarah said she’d help me with it, we just have to find the time.”

“Do you need a partner?” he grins.

“Not for these shots,” she giggles, “but you’re more than welcome to come if you’d like. I’m always open to other artists' creative eyes.”

“Yeah, I’d love to. Do you have an idea on what your next project will be?”

“Um, I don’t know. It’s always centered on self-love and body positivity. I might try something with body paint or shadows. There’s a--”

“Do you have an OnlyFans?” he blurts out then immediately wants the earth to swallow him up whole.

Where the hell did that come from? He wanted to try and ease into it casually but how do you casually bring up a website like that? And now he just blurted it out like an imbecile. He keeps his eyes on the road anticipating a well-deserved slap across his cheek or for Indie to demand he take the next exit and drop her off.

Instead, she laughs. It’s a full-on cackle with a trail of giggles gasping for breath. Indie doesn’t stop until he looks over at her in alarm and with an apologetic grimace.

“Oh, you’re serious?” she squeaks wiping at the corners of her eyes. She takes a deep breath, still chuckling. “Why do you think that?”

“I was showing my friend Luke the shoot we did and when I went to your Instagram he saw your other photos and asked if I was on OnlyFans and he said creators usually post photos like that with a partner they collaborated with or something and you said your job is social media stuff and that’s social media and I’m--I’m an asshole for blurting it out like that. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business but even if you are, that’s great, y’know? No shame or judgment from me whatsoever. And I feel stupid for even trying to search you--”

“You tried searching for me?” she asks but Calum’s on a ranting rampage. “Wow. I’m fl--”

“This makes me sound like a grade A creep. You--”

“Calum!” she laughs resting her hand on his forearm. The hair on his neck stands up at her touch just like in the meadow. “As entertaining as it is to see you stumble over your words and talk this much, stop. I’m flattered you would even think that in the first place, but no, I don’t have an account.”

He risks a glance at her; she gives him a warm smile.

“Do you have an account?” She asks in a hushed whisper.

“What?!” he swerves a little in his lane but thankfully he needs to change over for the exit. His GPS says Indie’s place is only a few more minutes away. “No, no I don’t have one.”

She giggles again but doesn’t say another word.

They’re silent for the remainder of the drive, the music playing softly in the background. He wishes he never said anything and that Luke didn’t bring it up in the first place. Calum makes the few turns indicated on his screen and then parks in front of a duplex. Indie unbuckles her seatbelt, angling herself towards him.

“Would you subscribe if I did?”

He jerks his head in her direction, did he hear her right? He opens his mouth to answer then narrows his eyes, she does the same and they have a narrow-eyed contest until they’re laughing.

“Would you subscribe if I did?” he counters.

“I asked you first.”

He unbuckles himself as well so he can stretch in his seat and run his fingers through his hair. “I’m not going to answer that. Can we pretend I never asked that and this conversation never happened?” He drops his hands to the steering wheel; he needs to have a firm handle on something because clearly his tongue is acting wild.

“What did you ask?”

“What?”

“What conversation are you talking about?”

Calum stares at her, then looks outside as if there’s a hidden camera and he’s being punk’d right now. Is Ashton Kutcher hiding in that trailer?

“We were talking about OnlyFans.”

“Calum! I was playing along! You didn’t ask me anything and we didn’t have a conversation about that unasked question,” she gives him a perky smile.

“You are something else, you know that?” he rubs at his face out of embarrassment and feeling like such an idiot.

“That’s what I’m told,” she sighs.

He feels there’s a story or two there but he’s already invaded her privacy enough tonight. And it’s only the second time actually meeting her.

“Can I ask you something?” She asks.

“Yes. Please do.”

“Why do you want to know what I do?”

Calum rests his head on his seat, turning his head towards her with his hands still on the wheel. She’s situated herself in her seat so that one leg is pulled to her chest and resting against the center console. Her round cheek is cupped in her hand, her eyes wide and captivating.

“I want to know more about you, that’s all.”

“Why do you want to know about me, Cal?”

That question again. The answer is staring him right in the face, it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he just can’t bring himself to say it out loud. So, he alters his answer because he’s already rambled enough for one night.

“You have this ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude and a free spirit. You’re sure of yourself and not a lot of people are like that.”

“I definitely do give a fuck about a lot of things. Maybe too much,” she shrugs, removing her hand and leans forward. “You’re sure that’s all?”

She doesn’t ask it in fishing for compliments type of way, it’s more like she knows he’s hiding something, like she knows he sugar-coated his answer. Indie’s eyes have him captured, he’s like a fly caught in a black widow’s web that’s made up of his own lies.

“Ye-es…” he responds slowly.

“You promise?”

Her eyes are steady on his, he squeezes the wheel, arms tightening, knuckles whitening, and the smallest flick of her eyebrow causes him to let out a large exhale. Calum drops his hands in defeat.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he shakes his head.

She’s looking at him like Luke was looking at him back in the studio.

“You’re…” he licks his lips and swallows down his nerves. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, Indie. I’ve never been this lost in my head on finding the proper words to say what I want to say. But I can tell you that my intentions are only to get to know you, which I’m certain of.”

“Get to know me as a friend?”

“Friend, photoshoot partner, whatever it is,” he shrugs. “All I know is I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She gives him a small smile with an even smaller nod then takes a deep breath. Her hands rub at her temples as she lets out a frustrated groan covering her eyes with her hands.

“Are you okay?”

“You know that’s the truest thing you’ve said this whole time, Cal? I’d be glad to be your friend but I can’t lie about how I’ve been thinking about you, too.”

“So... what do we do about that?”

Indie removes her hands, her eyes the size of planets holding the same secrecy of the galaxy. He wants to explore every part, every hidden crevice.

“I want to know you, too. But we have to promise--” she holds out her pinky “--that we are friends first and foremost. I don’t trust people easily; I only tell what I think they should know. But my intuition is telling me to trust you and it’s never wrong. Can you do that?”

Calum mulls over her words. He reaches over the console so their faces are closer. He can see the glitter on her cheeks and how they resemble constellations. He cups her cheek; his fingers locking in her hair and captures her lips in a fevered kiss without a thought of the repercussions that will follow.

The kiss is full of sparks, desire, and an innate need. Indie kisses him back with equal hurriedness and soon they’re scrambling to the backseat. Lips still connected, her fingers claw at his shirt and--

“Cal?”

Calum blinks. He’s pulled back to the present, his fantasy betraying him in the worst possible way from the reality of Indie still holding her pinky out for him.

The kiss was all in his head. Going against his selfish desires, he hooks his pinky with hers and Indie’s face turns serious.

“We promise to always stay friends, no matter what. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“We promise that no matter what comes from the darkness, what secrets will surface, or whatever urges may arise, we are friends first and won’t let those things change that. Promise?”

“I promise,” he nods, tilting his head to the side in amusement as she continues.

“And above all else...we won’t leave or abandon one another. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good. I promise, too,” she stares at their joined pinkies.

“You okay?” he asks, feeling the shift within her.

“Yeah...it’s a little...I’m giving you all my trust. It’s a little scary.”

He squeezes her pinky then covers their joined hands with the palm of his other hand. He cocks his head lower until she looks at him with shining, vulnerable eyes.

“I promise I won’t break it, Indie.”

He wonders if she catches the double entendre to his promise because while he said it about her trust, he could tell she’s wearing her heart on her sleeve. He doesn’t want to break that either.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Calum has been walking on air ever since that night with Indie a few weeks ago promising to be friends. Is he attracted to her? Absolutely. That at least is something he can admit even if it is in his own head. Will he act on those thoughts? No, because he has respect for Indie and his relationship with Bianca.

Things between him and Bianca have gotten a little better; they go out more and she’s asked him about his music. When he’s mentioned he has this tune stuck in his head that he can’t figure out she doesn’t say too much about it and quickly transitions to her next appearance promoting a new line of liquor.

Calum’s confident he can push his attraction for Indie to the side and make their friendship a priority. He’s never had a female best friend before but it’s an easy transition with her.

After that night they exchanged numbers and were quick to start sending funny memes and TikTok videos. Calum downloaded the app solely because of her and when he discovered she had a few videos of her own, he watched the four videos relentlessly.

“You’re a very talented lip syncer, you should go pro,” he’d told her one day over FaceTime while he was making breakfast.

“There’s no such thing as a pro lip syncer,” she snorted back. She was applying makeup in her bathroom sitting cross legged on the counter with her feet in the sink.

“Yeah there’s that show on MTV or some shit where you dress up and put on a whole performance.”

“I would literally die if I had to perform in front of people. No thank you.”

Calum laughed then watched her apply her eyeliner with careful strokes and perfect precision. Whenever she did her makeup she had her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and her bangs clipped up so she wouldn’t get makeup on them. Seeing her whole face for the first time filled him with even more intrigue and he thought she was even more beautiful.

“Why do you do that on the sink?” he asked, flipping his egg on his toast.

“So I can get closer to the mirror. It’s a girl thing. Doesn’t Bianca do it?”

“Dunno, I’ve never seen her put her makeup on before.”

He would send her photos and videos of Duke and each time she’d comment on how adorable he is and that she would steal him one day.

“You’ll have to get through me first,” he grinned.

“I can take you. It’s one of my superpowers.”

“What superpower is that exactly?”

“If I tell you then my cover’s blown, duh.”

“Why don’t you show me then?” he teased with a slight hint of flirtation.

“Cal…” she warned but couldn’t help her giggle.

“All right, all right,” he smiled, scratching at his head. “Sorry.”

There would be some innocent slip-ups like that throughout their conversations. Calum just felt so at ease with Indie and when she asked him to help her with a photoshoot of hers he was more than excited to accept.

When he arrived at her place, there was music playing from down the hall and he heard voices followed by Indie’s laugh. He follows the sound right into her bathroom where she is with another girl while the bathtub was running water, bubbles rising.

“Did you finally get your own dog?” he asks and the two girls turn at his voice.

“No, it’s for the photos,” Indie smiles. “Cal, this is Inka, she’s going to be in the photos with me and helping you take them.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Calum,” Inka smiles.

Inka’s a little taller than Indie with flowing ink black hair, wide set eyes and brown skin. She has a septum piercing and is also very good looking.

“Nice to meet you,” he nods, and then turns fearfully to Indie. “I’m taking the photos? Shouldn’t you ask Sarah, she’s a professional.”

“I don’t want them to look professionally done. Inka’s big on water photography so she’ll help you. And we need someone to take photos of us together.”

“All right, so…” he glances at the tub that Inka is now bent over testing the water. “What’s with the bubble bath?”

“That’s where we’ll be,” Indie grins, removing her shorts.

Calum is so caught off guard by being the photographer that his eyes watch her step out of them, but finds she has on swimsuit bottoms. At least he won’t be distracted this time like in the meadow or at Andy and Sarah’s when she was completely naked.

“Are you alright with us being topless, Cal?” Inka asks removing her own shorts. He spots some ink on her skin as well, he wonders if they got tattoos together at one point. The styles are pretty similar.

“I’m fine if you guys are,” he shrugs then eyes up the Polaroid sitting on the counter. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me here; I respect the artistry of the naked body.”

“All I needed to hear,” Inka says with a sigh. “The water’s perfect, Indsy. I’ll put on music that helps me get in the zone.”

“Is this the camera I’ll be using?” Calum asks, pointing to the Polaroid as Inka changes the music on her phone to something with a bit of soul to it. The voice echoes very softly within the bathroom.

“Yeah, it’s Inka’s. She’ll show you how to use it while I’m in there. Thanks for helping with this, everyone couldn’t or thought it was weird when I asked them.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” he smiles down at her, noticing she doesn’t have makeup on. “You look nice by the way.”

“Thank you. I’m going to take my top off now,” she touches his arm as if in assurance, her eyes widening slightly. “Will you be okay?”

He knows she’s teasing but he links his pinky with hers that’s on his arm.

“Promise. Now get in there,” he jerks his head towards her bath.

“Sheesh, you’re a demanding assistant.”

She backs away and he examines the camera with curiosity. When Inka and Indie converse behind him, he lifts his eyes to their reflection in the mirror just as Indie is pulling her t-shirt off. Her eyes meet his as she tosses it to the floor and it’s as if the moment slows before she’s stepping into the water.

“Inka! This is too hot!” she squeals, pulling her foot out.

“No, it’s not! Calum, come feel the water.”

He turns and stands next to Indie; he bends to the floor pressing his hand through a mountain of bubbles. It’s pretty warm but he’s come to realize that Indie doesn’t like hot things.

“I think it’s fine but it is too hot for her,” he agrees with Indie.

“Well, you’ll get used to it and if your cheeks get a little red or your chest, then it will make the pictures better.”

Indie sighs; she puts her hand on Calum’s shoulder for extra support and puts her foot in the water again. She lets out a hiss and stands there for a couple seconds. Calum grabs her hand and holds her fingers when she places her other foot in the tub as well. He watches her scrunch her face at the temperature, he can see a red splotch blooming on her chest already and she’s not even fully in yet.

“Darling, it’s really not that bad,” Inka sighs rubbing at Indie’s shoulder. “Is it?”

“I just need to let myself get used to it,” Indie replies and drops a knee, her fingers’ holding onto Calum’s tightly.

“I can get a cold washcloth for you,” he offers but Indie shakes her head and drops her other knee.

“I’ll be okay. Can you get me a bottled water from my fridge?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back,” he nods and he releases her fingers.

When he returns, Indie is fully in the bath, her hair cascading over her back like a dark purple curtain. Her knees are drawn up to her chest and Inka is on the floor with her camera pointed at Indie. Indie’s head is on her knees, her body curving forward, eyes big and her lips pouting slightly.

Calum doesn’t like how she looks sad even if he knows it’s for the aesthetics of it all. Indie looks up at him then stretches a now bubbly arm towards him for the water.

“Wait, stay like that for a minute!” Inka instructs Indie's pose and the camera clicks. “Okay, you can take it.”

Calum sits against the cabinets next to Inka, paying attention to the buttons on the camera before she takes a picture. Indie leans back with her head tilted back and eyes closed, her breasts pointing out. Then she rested her arms on the edge of the tub, her cheek falling perfectly in the crook of her elbows and she eyed up the camera and Inka. When she looked at Calum, he forgot how to swallow.

“Okay, ready for me?” Inka asks, standing up from her place on the floor.

“You’re going to complain about the water though,” Indie rolls her eyes playfully and turns the tap back on. She shifts to the opposite end so she doesn’t feel the hot water.

“Just take photos you think would be good as candid’s,” Inka instructs handing Calum the camera.

He’s nervous now. He doesn’t want to mess up their vision and he runs over what Inka told him in his head as she takes off her tank top and climbs in with Indie.

“This is so tepid!” Inka shrieks and Indie laughs.

“It’s perfect!”

“You’re such a little weirdo,” Inka drops into the water and pushes the running water towards Indie. Indie sticks her tongue out.

While the water continues to run, Calum takes some practice shots and Inka starts to pull her hair up in a very messy bun with loose strands kissing her cheeks and forehead. She looks very good, actually. Inka has a natural beauty to her, much like Indie does. Calum took photos of that process, Inka is confident in herself like Indie is; it’s all in her posture.

“Remember the first time we were in the bath together?” Indie asks, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, you were drunk and thought your tub was a whirlpool. But you turned the shower on instead and I thought you were drowning,” Inka laughs.

Calum captures their smiles. He remains silent as they place bubbles on each other’s noses or blow them at each other from their hands. He tries to take as many of those as he can because he thinks they’re charming.

He discovers they’ve been friends ever since Indie moved to L.A and have gone through tough things with each other like bad relationships, loss of jobs, and fallouts from a whole group of friends they were involved in. The more they talked, the closer they got in the tub.

“Here, turn around, I want to get some shots like this,” Indie tells Inka.

They’re in a fit of giggles and laughter as Inka maneuvers in the water, some of the bubbles are rolling down the sides of the tub. Once they’re situated, Indie scoots closer until she’s pressed against Inka’s back. Calum’s reminded of feeling her pressed against his back at Andy and Sarah’s.

“Look at Cal,” Indie says and they both turn to Calum.

He snaps the photo.

“How are you doing over there Mr. Camera Man?” Inka asks leaning against Indie.

“Great. How’re you guys?” he asks.

“Hungry. I want some pizza,” Indie sighs. She presses her cheek to Inka’s neck and wraps her arms around her stomach.

“We’ll order some afterwards,” Inka lifts her hand and pats at Indie’s head affectionately. “Does Calum know you need to be fed every few hours?”

“You make me sound like a baby,” Indie laughs. “Does Calum know?” She directs the question to him in third person, looking at him expectantly.

“Yes, I discovered she gets very feisty when she’s hungry,” Calum laughs.

“He’s a good egg,” Indie says and kisses Inka’s neck.

“Wait, do that again,” Calum says and Indie presses her lips to Inka’s neck. He snaps the picture and he grins. “That’s a good one.”

“Stay professional over there, sir,” Inka warns, narrowing her eyes.

“I am! It’s a sweet moment that’s all. You guys are close and have been through a lot. There aren’t too many friendships like that.”

“I always tell her she’s my soulmate,” Inka pats Indie's cheek then spins around again in the water.

“My friend Ash and I say the same thing.”

“You two take baths together, too?” Inka asks and Indie laughs.

“No,” he laughs. “We wouldn’t fit.”

That gets them both laughing and he snaps a picture of it, the pure joy and amusement on their faces. He notices goosebumps are on Indie’s arms.

“You’re getting cold, Indie,” he comments.

“Yeah, we should get out soon. Did you get some good photos?” she asks, sitting up a little straighter, her hands on the edge of the tub.

“Wait, Cal get one more picture,” Inka stops Indie from standing.

He poises the camera to his eye again and watches as Inka leans in and gives Indie a soft kiss on the lips. She holds the kiss so he can take the picture and he keeps snapping when they pull away and smile at each other.

They both rise from the tub with more water sloshing over the sides; all the bubbles are gone now. Calum stands handing them each a towel; he’s trying to wrap his head around that kiss. He kisses his friends too, but to see Indie be kissed by a girl made that pang form in his chest again like when she hugged Roy and not him.

He shouldn’t be jealous; they’re just friends and he pinky promised.

“I’ll order some pizza and upload these so we can look at them,” Inka says, wrapping the towel around her. She folds it over so it’s held to her body like a strapless dress. “Time to put your camera skills to the test.”

The photos ended up looking really well. He could tell the differences between his and Inka’s, hers were angled in different ways to make the focal point look cool. His photos were straighter on but Inka was impressed by some of his close-up shots of their laughter.

The three of them watched a movie as they ate their pizza, laughing at the scenes and more memories that came about for Indie and Inka. Calum really liked Inka and she gave him a hug when she left, promising she’ll contact him if she needs his help for her own photos.

“You have her approval by the way,” Indie says, moving back to the couch pulling her blanket over her legs.

“Approval?” He joins her resting his arm over the back of her couch.

“Of being my guy best friend. This was sort of a test of hers by having you deal with our shenanigans and being half naked in the tub.”

“Elaborate, please?” he chuckles. “Did she think I’d be weird about it?”

“She’s a little protective over me. We’re best friends but…” Indie looks at her hands in her lap; she starts to play with the edge of the blanket.

“But…?” he prompts and she bites her lip. “I feel like this is a pinky promise moment.”

“It is.”

He holds out his pinky waiting for her to link their fingers. She takes in a deep breath and hooks her pinky around his but she doesn’t let it go when she speaks. Her eyes are trained on their pinkies.

“Inka and I dated actually, for a short time. It was right when I moved out here and we got super close super-fast, I felt the most comfortable with her in the friend group I fell into. She’s the first one I voiced my attraction to women about and she said she was the same. We both don’t like labels. And... Yeah, we dated for a couple months but both agreed our friendship was more important than if we broke up badly.”

“So, you’re attracted to men and women or just women?” he asks softly.

“Both,” she says, her eyes still on their pinkies. “Inka’s the only woman I’ve dated and have been with but I’ve had other crushes. They just never went anywhere.”

“Hey, look at me,” he tugs on her pinky lightly until her eyes meet his. “Why do you seem scared?”

“When I tell other guys about it they get all weird and ask for threesomes or they get freaked out like I'm going to cheat on them with her or something. I’m attracted to girls but it’s more than attraction, too.”

“I get it,” he nods, “you don’t have to explain to me. You care for people for who they are. I’m sorry if you felt cautious to tell me. You can tell me anything, Indie.”

“It’s just nerve wracking, that’s all,” she lets out a shaky laugh. “I knew you wouldn’t be creepy with the photos but while we were doing them I figured this would be a good time to tell you.”

“Thank you for telling me, it helps me get to know you better,” he smiles. She gives him one back then pulls her pinky away so she can give him a hug.

He holds her tightly, feeling how fast her heart is beating. They didn't let go until her heart slowed down and matched his.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Every day at the studio, Luke would pester Calum asking when they would finally get to meet Indie. Not long after, Ashton and Michael would chime in as well about wanting to meet her and Calum would do his best to ignore them. But he knows his brothers and they’re persistent to the point where it will make you go mad if you don’t agree.

Today was more of a chill day tossing random lyrics and notes around trying to make it into a song. While the other three were goofing off, Calum was at the piano trying to work out the notes that have been swimming in his head for the last couple months. He has the first and last notes down pat but what is in the middle? He can’t figure it out.

“Hey, Cal,” Luke calls, “you should have a party tonight.”

“What for?”

“So, we can all hang out, drink, eat, meet Indie…”

Calum’s hands fall away from the keys and he twists around on the bench to see Luke smiling with all his teeth. He looks like that emoji with his teeth bared.

“Why do you want to meet her so badly?”

“She’s friends with you, we want to be friends with her as well,” Luke shrugs.

“Roy knows her, why can’t we?” Ashton adds.

“Yeah, is she even real at this point?” Michael chortles.

“Yes, she’s real,” Calum rolls his eyes. “How—”

His phone buzzes on the table.

“It’s Indie!” Luke exclaims trying to snatch up the phone.

Calum darts forward grabbing his phone before they can. Thankfully, it was just a text because he knew if he picked up the phone one of them would have found a way to speak with Indie and say something ridiculous.

“Stop acting like we’re twelve,” Calum shakes his head. “Two of you are married.”

“I’m engaged, actually,” Luke corrects, leaning back on the couch. He crosses his converse covered feet at the ankles. “What’d she want?”

Against his better judgment, Calum opens the message to see three photos and a text. They’re all the same photos just taken in different positions. It’s her naked body, from just below her breasts to the tops of her thighs. She’s poised in a way that you can’t see anything and it ranges from black and white, sepia, and the original photo.

‘Which one should I post?’ was the text sent.

“She sent me photos asking for help on which ones to pick for a post,” Calum says already typing away about how she should do all of them. Then he asks how her day’s going. He looks up at his friends and they’re giving him the same look of expectation. “Ugh, fine! If I invite her over you can’t be weird as shit like you are right now.”

They whoop and holler at that news.

“Finally, we get to meet the infamous Indie,” Luke sighs, resting his head on his hands. Calum throws a pillow right at his face.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

All of Calum’s friends are mingling in the backyard and kitchen area, conversation and laughter is heard over the low sound of the music playing. He’s ordered pizza and wings for everyone to enjoy and they should be delivered in about forty-five minutes. He’s been anxiously waiting for Indie to arrive but is also nervous about how the guys will act around her.

Bianca is out of town so she couldn’t make it and Calum wasn’t too sure what his feelings are about her not being here. She told him to have fun and not get too rowdy, so he appreciates that small sentiment.

Indie was excited to meet everyone else when he called her and when she asked if she could bring a friend, he assumed it was Inka so he of course said yes.

Boy was he ever wrong.

He was popping open another white claw when Andy and Sarah announced her name. He looks up in excitement to see her hugging Sarah but then it falters when he sees it’s not Inka that’s next to her. It’s that guy Ian from her Instagram posts that she posed with. The pang in his chest is back when Ian places his arm over Indie’s bare shoulders and shakes Andy and Sarah’s hand.

Calum takes notice of her outfit; she has on a dark blue top with the sleeves that only go to the tops of her arms and black jean shorts with some black boots. Her dark purple hair is pulled back behind her head in a sort of braid.

“Hey isn’t that—”

“Indie?” Calum finishes Luke’s sentence and takes a long drink of his white claw. “Yeah, let’s go introduce you.”

Ashton and Michael met them by Indie and she gave Calum a big smile.

“Hey! How’re you?” she asks rising on her tiptoes to give him a hug. Ian and Calum’s eyes meet briefly before Indie pulls away.

“I’m good, glad you could come,” Calum forces a smile. “Uh, these are the guys. It’s about time you all met. This is Luke, Ashton, and Michael. Guys, this is Indie.”

“So, you are a real person,” Ashton nods, shaking her hand.

“As opposed to what? A blow-up doll?” Indie teases and Michael chokes on his own drink.

Calum grins because he knows she’ll be able to handle herself around them. He just hopes they don’t say anything about him that would raise questions.

“I like you,” Ashton smiles. “Who’s this you brought along?”

“Oh! Right, sorry. This is Ian,” she introduces.

Calum eyes him up while he shakes his friends’ hands. He’s about the same height as Calum with short brown hair that kind of sticks up in the front. He’s got tan skin, an arm of tattoos, and has a lean muscular build.

“And this is Calum,” Indie introduces him last.

Calum notices she didn’t say ‘my friend’ or ‘my boyfriend’ when introducing Ian, so what is he exactly?

“Good to finally meet you, man,” Ian holds out his hand.

“Likewise,” Calum makes sure his grip is tight, but so is Ian’s. “Help yourselves to drinks from the coolers and kitchen. Pizza and wings should be coming soon.”

The pang in Calum’s chest only grows as the night progresses. He’s not quite sure what to make of Ian except that he and Indie are very comfortable with each other. When Calum is in ear shot they’re always flirting and touching each other.

“Sooo…” Luke drawls sidling next to Calum. “He’s that guy from her Instagram, right?”

“Yup.”

“Are he and Indie dating?”

“No idea,” Calum’s voice is clipped. He takes a drink of his white claw. The pang keeps getting sharper, his fingers are twitching for a cigarette and now he really wants some weed.

“Are you all right?”

Calum watches Ian come up behind Indie with another drink for her and he smacks her ass then proceeds to rub her back. Indie smiles up at him taking the cup.

“Yeah, I’m all right. We’re just friends,” Calum sighs.

When the party dwindled down, it was only Ashton, Michael, Luke, Andy, Sarah,Indie and Ian left sitting around the firepit. The conversation transitions from topic to topic that are mainly centered on Indie and finding out more about her. Just as Calum suspected, she’s very cryptic in her responses and that makes him smile. Calum’s sitting across the way from her and her legs are resting on Ian’s lap. Ian’s hands are rubbing at her calves.

Calum tells himself it doesn’t bother him.

Somehow the conversation turned to sex, which isn’t all that uncommon for their group but Calum was shooting daggers at Ashton because he didn’t want Indie to feel uncomfortable. As always, she surprised him and she was asking her own questions. Everyone answered her question of what their first time was like and they were all great stories of embarrassing moments.

When it came for her to answer, Calum sat up a little straighter in his chair.

“I was nineteen, wasn’t expecting it to happen at all. And you’re always told ‘oh, it’s this magical moment! You’ll be changed forever!’ but it literally lasted two or three minutes and I was like, ‘that’s it?’” she giggles. “I didn’t feel changed at all.”

“Two minutes?” Michael laughs. “Was it his first time too?”

“Hey, in my defense I’ve wanted to do it with her for a long time and when it finally happened…I lost control,” Ian smiles. “That tends to happen with Indie.”

Calum’s ears feel hot and it’s not from the fire. He ignores Luke’s quick glance to him from the bit of information that Ian was the first guy Indie had sex with.

“And we were also in your parent’s living room,” Indie giggles some more.

“All right, so now the next question…most rounds in one night?” Ashton asks lighting up another joint.

Calum wants to strangle him.

“What the hell is with all the sex talk, mate?” he finally asks trying to play it off as nonchalant, but the way Luke and Michael fidget, he knows it didn’t sound that way. No one else seems to notice, if Indie did he doesn’t know because he doesn’t dare look at her now.

“It’s a beautiful thing. It brings people closer by being open about it,” Ashton rests his ankle on his knee.

Calum snorts and shakes his head crossing his arms. He shakes his leg in annoyance.

Everyone says one or two rounds with little stories with each one. Michael made everyone laugh when he said one and a half.

“I was super drunk and it finally caught up with me and…yeah, I fell asleep,” Michael chortles. His eyes are heavy from drinking.

“That poor girl,” Andy says.

“I married her, so you know she’s the one,” Michael smiles.

“Where are Crystal and Sierra? I was looking forward to meeting them, too,” Indie says.

“They’re both at some fashion expo,” Luke explains. “We’ll all get together; they want to meet you too.”

Then fashion is the next topic of conversation until Ashton opens his mouth again. The weed must have set him off in a very inquisitive buzz.

“Indie, you didn’t answer the round's question.”

“I don’t want to be judged,” she holds up her hands in defense.

“This is a judgment free zone, this is a safe space, c’mon,” Ashton smiles lazily.

Indie looks at each person individually, except Calum before she answers.

“Three times,” she sighs, staring into the fire.

There’s a collective ‘woah’ around the group and sounds of approval. She tries to hide her smile but fails and ends up covering her face.

“Damn, that dude’s got stamina,” Michael says.

“It was a fun night,” Ian smirks while taking a drink of his beer. Indie smacks him in the shoulder and that earns even more of a reaction from the group.

They all want to know details and context, but Calum is seething. He really wants to get up and leave because he doesn’t want to hear anymore, but he knows that will cause more questions.

He remains silent for the rest of the night thinking about everything and questioning everything. He wants to know if Indie and Ian are dating and he wants to know why it matters to him so much. It really shouldn’t and that just makes him angrier.

He’s glad his friends are getting along with Indie, but he wishes it weren’t in this type of context.

When everyone had left, Calum was stuffing plates and cups in a large trash bag then he was going to light up a joint in hopes that would help calm his mind and rid his thoughts of seeing Ian and Indie together. He doesn’t even want to think about what they’re doing right now.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr-blog1 @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @Fobodob @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @fivesecondsofonedirection @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @sebsbrokentoe @heartskippeddabat

[wastelandcth]

Coney Island - cth

summary: Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

author’s notes: this was...wow. i hope you all enjoy shoutout to @in-superbloom and @hoodhoran for letting me give them sneak peeks to hype myself up over it! 

warnings: mentions of a car accident, mentions of a hospital, angst, sorry there’s a cliffhanger. 

masterlist || request || more songs for calum

You’d always been told that finding your passion at a young age was a blessing. That finding the one thing you wanted to do for the rest of your life and running with it was a blessing in disguise. You’d never understood why everyone would say that to you, you loved making art and there had never been a downside to creating art. There had never been a point in your life where your job had become a stressor and where you’d regretted ever wanting to chase the thrill of canvas and paint. Every day you’d wake up and have the time and space to create scenery you’d seen in dreams or in real life, little pockets in time you could freeze on canvas for the world to see. It’d been a rough start, selling your work for whatever amount you were offered until you had your break and found yourself in a museum overseas staring at the large painting hanging on the wall of some museum you’d dreamed about. You’d been standing there in the empty halls, breathing in the quiet of the hall, the occasional footsteps bringing you back into the moments before a shadow next to you brought your attention away from your splatter of colors and lines to the person who stood next to you. And that’s how you first met Calum, in the silence of an art museum where his eyes studied your work as if he’d been trying to find all the secrets you’d hidden in the paint. It was where you’d told him about the painting, where you’d both found one another in more ways than one. 

That’s when you finally understood the blessing in disguise. 

Coney Island had always been a warm and distant memory to you, the boardwalk lined with thrills on either side, waiting to be explored. You remembered cotton candy dreams and spending days in the sun with your friends. Coney Island has been love and laughter, sunshine and summer days, and a place where the pit in your stomach was gone. It had been all you could think about when summer was mentioned, an inspiration to the painting you’d whispered to Calum about. The colorful swirls of paint and oils that gave you your first real break in the art world had all come from the place where boardwalks and rides had brought you nothing but happiness. 

But now, the boardwalk was silent and you felt like a ghost walking through it. 

The ocean was inviting, a teasing view from wherever you stood, tempting you to step into the sand and sink into its secrets. The boardwalk echoed with every step you took, bouncing the noise up into the sky where it returned as a sharp crack of thunder. The empty bench you’d found was hard and cold, leaving your bones aching with a chill you weren’t sure would ever go away. The wind thumping against your ears as you took in the cold ocean air into your lungs, letting the salty breeze burn them and leave you gasping for air. Your eyes searched the water, a muted gray and blue that seemed to stretch on for as far as your eyes could see, swirling with white foam from the waves that crashed onto the sand every so often. 

The lights from the amusement park flickered against the shore, strobing in and out of view which left you shaking and with teary eyes. The waves filled your head with the screeching of tires and breaking glass. The swirling of the ocean putting the same fear in the pit of your stomach as when you’d heard Calum’s scream. The scream that had been cut off as the call went dead. 

“I know I promised I’d be able to make it to dinner…” you mumbled hesitantly, frowning as you heard Calum’s sigh, “But I-”

“Let me guess, you have a very important gallery show and it just happened to slip your mind again so you’ll have to skip dinner with the band?” Calum mumbled, the annoyance in his voice obvious, “Yeah, I’ve heard it before. It’s fine, you’ll still make it to the show, right?”

“Well…” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair as the busy streets of Brooklyn surrounded you, “I’m really sorry, Cal.”

“Are you serious?” he scoffed, “We’ve had this planned for weeks now! You can’t just-”

“Calum? Calum?! Honey?”

The hospital had become a maze, turns, and twists that only led your farther and farther from your destination. With every squeak of your shoes against the vinyl floor, you felt yourself drifting farther away from him, from the man who’d you’d been putting second to your job and the one you didn’t know you’d be able to see again. Your adrenaline had been on high since the moment the emergency worker had answered the tenth call you’d made to Calum’s phone, telling you the what, when, and where had happened to Calum. You’d raced through the busy sidewalks, trying to find the hospital where Calum’s unconscious self was being sent to. But even as you walked through the barren halls, hands shaking and dried tears on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for it all. What if he never woke up and the last words you’d shared between one another was a fight? What if he never knew that you loved him more than anything in the world? What if all the nights away from him could’ve been switched for time spent together? 

“Darling?” one of the nurses said softly, breaking you out of the hurricane of thoughts, “Hey, take deep breaths, how can I help you? Are you hurt?”

“Where’s….they said he’d be here but I don’t..” 

“Who are you looking for, honey?”

“Where did my baby go?”

You’d been ready to answer, to tell them that you needed to see Calum and hold his hand. To make sure he was okay and that he’d be able to make it to his show that night, to be happy on stage. But that was all thrown out the door when the doors opened, bringing a gust of cold and rainy wind into the room as well as the man you’d talked to on the phone only minutes before. Your breath caught in your throat, your body going stiff as you watched them wheel him into the building and then away from you. He was bloody and bruised, his eyes shut in a way that seemed too peaceful for the situation he was in. His hair was flat against his head, the usual curls that had roamed freely on his head now matted with blood, and you couldn’t help but rush out of the building. The walls had started to close in, trapping you in as you watched Calum disappear behind a crowd of nurses and doctors, and you finally took a breath of air as the door shut behind you and the hospital was behind you.

The waves were louder now, crashing against the shore with a force so strong they shook the boardwalk beneath your feet. You hadn’t realized how far you’d walked, not until the familiar lights of the boardwalk shone beneath the fog that had come with the rain, how far you’d walked away from him again. It wasn’t like he’d want you there anyways, the annoyance in his voice had been a clue if you’d ever seen one. You had just pushed him aside again in order to go to another gallery you knew deep down you could afford to miss. It had been like that for weeks now, you both danced around the fact that you hadn’t been in the same city for months on end. Daily phone calls or text messages were replaced with a silence neither of you enjoyed and airplane trips became lonely. You’d been off traveling the globe as your newest works were displayed all across and Calum had been off promoting the band’s latest album. It hadn’t been the first time both of your jobs had overlapped schedules and being away from one another for this long had happened, but the silence was new. 

Which is why the fact that you were both finally in the same city was so important for Calum, and for you. But the idea of finally seeing him had caused the pit of anxiety to form and you found yourself looking for excuses to push him away. And now your last memories of him would be seeing his bruised body being wheeled away from you, the way his voice had cut off with a squeal of tires, and the sound of glass breaking. All because you’d put a distance between the both of you because you felt that intense feeling that you could no longer ignore. It had first started that night when his back became a canvas for your art, and his soft gasps whenever the cold paint hit his skin had ingrained themselves in your brain. The gasps and giggles mixed in with the smell of paint and you felt yourself falling more and more in love with Calum, seeing yourself old and gray with him. It had been terrifying and the shapes you’d made with paint had become nothing but a blur of colors. 

“I love you,” he mumbled against his arm, watching as you’d started packing up the paints and brushes you’d just used on his skin, “You know that?”

“Mhm, and lucky for you,” you teased, pushing down the pit of fear into the back of your mind, “I am deeply in love with you.” 

That’s what loving Calum had always been, a blur of beautiful colors. 

The air had begun to pick up now, swirling and swinging around the sky as the storm grew closer and closer. Not that it mattered much, your face was already soaked with tears and stained by the black mascara that had been running down ever since you’d walked out of the hospital. You wished he’d be by your side, hugging you and telling you it would all be okay. If you closed your eyes and focused hard enough you could hear his voice, modulated over the speaker of your phone as he told you about his day. He’d been trying to distract you again, the frustration of your newest piece not looking how you’d imagined bringing you close to tears. 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah? And then you can paint all over my body so you can find inspiration. I promise.” he chuckled quietly, probably laying in a dark room across an ocean. 

“I miss you,” you sighed, watching the sunrise out your window and rubbing at your tired eyes. 

“I love you,” he whispered, a smile in his voice, as if those were the only three words you needed to hear. Maybe they were, maybe those were the three little words you would remember before the crash pulled him away from you. 

Time seemed to tick by slowly, almost torturing you, as your eyes drifted from the ocean storm ahead to the screen of your phone. You knew it was coming, the call that would change your life forever. The one that would leave you broken and shattered on the beach like the shells that had crunched under your feet. Soon enough, the buzz of your phone would bring the time with Calum to an end. Soon, it would just be you, the ocean breeze, and the memory of Calum. The crack of thunder shook the world around you, almost making you miss the sharp shrill that came from your phone, the screen lighting up with a picture of Calum you’d taken a few months back. Your lungs froze, hands shaking as your thumb slid over the screen and accepted the call, bracing yourself for the inevitable. 

“H-hello?” you asked, mentally preparing for the tears that would fill the ocean with salty tears. 

“I think I-I forgot to say your name and they wouldn’t let me in no matter how many times I asked,” you stuttered out, your feet carrying you back towards the sidewalk, towards Calum, “I love you so much I’m so sorry I’ve been so far away.” 

That’s what you would’ve said to Calum, if you’d only had more time and if you had said no to more events. You would’ve spilled your heart out to him, telling him all the secret words you had only whispered in the darkness of the room when you were sure Calum was asleep and his soft snores confirmed he’d never hear them. And even then, as the static of the ocean makes it hard for you to hear the call connect, the waves crashing onto the shore as the wind picks up doesn’t matter. Nothing matters then because the sharp inhale of air brings them to a dangerous silence, a silence that hurts your ears as the ocean, the waves, thunder, and air all come to an end with a soft whisper. 

“Baby?” Calum’s voice spoke out, the softness of it laced with a pain you wished you could take away. But it was Calum’s voice and that itself felt like a lightning bolt to the chest, a breath of fresh air, and a cold wave to wake them up. 

And that cold bench on Coney Island feels like the warmth of his voice. 

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[sope-and-shine]

Written In the Stars: Finale

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, // Mummy!Namjoon, Moon Goddess!Taehyung

-> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader // Taehyung x Reader

-> Word Count: 7k

-> Summary: Life after losing a loved one is challenging, especially when you’ve had the chance to see just how long the two of you have spent passing each other by. With it only being a few weeks since your loss, you’ve found your life has become dull and despondent. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll be able to move on, even with the help of friends.

-> Warning(s): mild language

a/n: I can’t believe we’re actually at the end 😭😭 I’ve put so much time and love into this story and I’m both sad and happy that I’ve been able to finish it! I hope everyone enjoys!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Masterlist

*

*

*

“Ma’am, where’s the restroom?”

You turn and see a father holding a small boy in his arms, and you immediately jump into action, “Take a right out of these doors, down the hall until you see the blue traffic sign, and it’ll be on the right. There should be a Daffodil portrait on the wall right before your turn.”

The man heaves a happy - very relieved - sigh, “Thank you!”

“Of course!” You watch as he speedwalks out of the exhibit and takes off down the hall. You can only hope he actually makes it there.

The day shift has definitely been more exciting. It’s only been a few weeks, but your days have been filled with more excitement since you switched. You tried to continue with the night shift post, but the silence just became too overwhelming. Thankfully, Hoseok seemed to understand when you told him.

You switched back to the day shift in hopes it would help to take your mind off of Namjoon. You thought being surrounded by others would make you feel less lonely, but you can’t help but think about how your life has changed so drastically.

Adjusting to your new life hasn’t been easy. Everywhere you look, you’re reminded of Namjoon. You hear his laugh by the water fountains, you see his hair in crowds on the street, and you can still feel his arms around you at night as you lay in bed.

At first, you thought it was something you could handle. You thought if you embraced his goodbye, then you’d be content to live the rest of your life without him. But no one told you losing love would hurt this bad.

You’ve tried to do other things, like knitting and working out, but you’re not very good at either one - nor do you really like them. Cooking had seemed like a good idea until you realized that meant cleaning the dishes. With every attempt to move on, you seem to take 3 large steps back.

You find yourself going to places Namjoon would have liked. Spontaneous trips to the park lead to long evenings by the river. Extra hours at the museum have you wandering through the exhibits just to look at the art one more time. Even a quick trip to the store has you buying things you’ve never thought to try.

The one place you never go is the King’s exhibit. At least, not of your own free will. It’s only happened twice - once being today - because someone had to call out. And just like the time before, you find yourself at the aquarium.

A place where Namjoon was truly happy.

The touch tanks have quickly become a favorite of yours. They allow you time to think to yourself and drift off, to daydream about a handsome king with an endearing fascination for the world around him.

You like to visit the crabs the most. Mostly because you know Namjoon would if he could. He thought they were the cutest on your outing together, and holding the tiny creature in your palm you can see why.

“Ow!” You flinch at the small pinch from the crustacean. Your hands jerk, but you try to protect the crab the best you can without dropping it.

“Here-” A large hand reaches in front of you and plucks the crab from your hands, “These guys get a little finicky when you hold them up too high.”

You place your thumb over the pinch and turn to him, “Really? I can’t-” You pause mid-sentence.

Now, looking at the crab’s savior, you see him. Lilac strands poke out of the blue university hat he’s wearing. His khaki shorts are worn and just barely reach his knees, and his sneakers are all worn out. Even the socks he’s wearing have slightly lost their vibrance. His baggy t-shirt doesn’t hide the fact that he’s more fit than he was a few weeks ago, but a few weeks ago he had disappeared right in front of you. But there’s no mistaking that dimpled smile.

This is Namjoon.

You stare at him like a deer in headlights, and you must look exactly how you feel because his smile turns to concern, “Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod, “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine…” You’re not. You’re absolutely stunned and he doesn’t seem to recognize you. They do say everyone in the world has 4 people that look just like them. How unfortunate that you’ve found his. “You just...look really familiar.”

“Really? Well, I guess that means I have a memorable face then.” He muses, chuckling to himself - Exactly like Namjoon. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You take another selfish moment to look at him, admiring how gentle he is with the small creature in his hands. “You really seem to like the crabs.”

“Yeah, I do!” He nods enthusiastically, “I really only applied here as an excuse to play in the touch tanks.”

“Something easy to wind down from classes?” You ask.

His eyes widen in surprise, and he turns to you as if you suddenly grew 2 extra heads, “How’d you know?”

You giggle, “You’re wearing a university hat with your grad year.”

“Really?!” You nod and he pulls the cap off of his head, letting out a frustrated groan when he confirms he’s wearing his university hat, “No wonder my supervisor straight up ignored me this morning. This is the third time this month I’ve grabbed the wrong one.”

“At least it’s a nice hat.” You assure him, trying to remain positive.

He places the cap back on his head and sighs, “Tell that to him.” He brings the small crab still resting in his palms eye level, “This little guy knows exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t you, buddy?”

“Don’t tell me you speak crab.”

“Of course I do! You just have to know how to listen.” He says matter of factly.

“Alright then. Ask him how he’s doing.”

“I will.” He turns to the crab and stares at it as if they’re having a staring contest, “How are you feeling, little guy?” He moves the crab up to his ear and acts as though it’s whispering to him, nodding and humming disagreement, “I see...I’d be pretty frightened too.”

You narrow your eyes, “What did he say?”

“He said he was having a great day until someone came and held him up too high.” He teases.

“You’re taller than me!” You argue.

He looks you up and down, nodding, “You’re right…” He seems to contemplate for a moment before he shrugs with a sly smile, “He probably just likes me better.”

“Oh, really now?” You challenge. He nods proudly and you scoff, “Well, what’s your name? Resident Crab Whisperer?”

“No! That’s way too long.” He laughs. He extends the hand not cradling a crab towards you and smiles, “My name is Kim Namjoon.”

“Well…” You hesitate, trying your best not to react. You swallow your nerves and shake his hand with a smile of your own, “-It’s nice to meet you, Kim Namjoon. Any relation to the mummy at the museum?”

“That hopeless romantic from the Seoul Museum?” He jokes. He takes this moment to place the crab back into his touch tank, “Yeah, he’s like a great-great-super great uncle or something like that.”

“Well, you look like him.” You say. He gives you a confused look and you’re quick to back-pedal, “His portraits! You look like his portraits.”

“I do?” He asks.

“Besides the purple hair, I’d say you’re the spitting image.”

“I’ll have to check it out myself then.”

“Well, their hours are 8am to 10pm Monday through Saturday and 12pm to 6pm on Sunday.” He gives you a pointed look and you shrug, “I’ve been the night guard the past few years. I just switched to day shift.”

“Really?!” He asks in disbelief, “Isn’t it creepy working the graveyard shift? It must be way too quiet.”

“Not really.” You think back to the nights you spent with your Namjoon and how he made you laugh. You remember asking him the same thing one Saturday night after the museum closed. You two were much closer than his first Sunday there, but you couldn’t help but worry about how he must get through the night alone. But Namjoon was a king. He wasn’t worried about a bit of peace and quiet. “A friend of mine once told me that silence is more reassuring than anything. It means peace.”

“They sound wise.”

“He was...” You can’t help but think about Namjoon’s absence.

This always happens when you think about any good times you may have had, remembering how much fun you had and how you’ll likely never have it again. Being in front of this Namjoon does nothing to help you feel at ease.

“You know that movie-?! It’s-Oh...What was it called…?” The lilac-haired Namjoon suddenly claps his hands together with a proud smile, “Night at the Museum! Anything like that happen after hours?”

You chuckle to yourself, knowing better than anyone how Ben Stiller’s character felt during that movie. Of course, the Namjoon in front of you would never believe you, “I wish. It’d make some of the exhibits a lot more interesting.”

He nods, “I bet they’d be pretty interactive too…Could you imagine history telling itself?!”

“Please, I don’t want to hear about the love-life of a thousand-year-old mummy.” You joke, knowing full well you already have.

“Yeah, I guess that would get annoying after a while...always lamenting about love and what-not…” He seems slightly disappointed, but his smile comes right back, “Why don’t you let me show you around and I’ll tell you about our exhibits instead?”

You’re taken aback by his boldness, “Oh, are you sure?” He nods, “I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! My shift ended like 30 minutes ago and this place is only open for another 3 hours.” He assures you, “So, what do you say?”

Maybe it’s because he’s the spitting image of Namjoon, or maybe it’s the similarities in their personas. Maybe it’s just the way his dimples appear every time he laughs and his laugh sounds just like his. No matter what it is that’s drawing you to this Namjoon, you find that your heart has taken over for your brain and it’s putty in his hands, “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Namjoon breaks into an excited grin, dimples on full display, “That’s the spirit!” He straightens his posture and holds his arm out for you as if he were a butler or an escort, “From here until the aquarium closes, consider me your personal tour guide for the rest of the evening. There won’t be a bench you haven’t sat on by the time we’re done!”

He’s confident.

But perhaps he’s too confident…

He takes you to places you’ve been before, educating you on every animal in great detail. He doesn’t miss a single species, and he takes great care to make sure you see what he’s talking about - guiding your head and pointing in the right direction. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you could listen to him talk for hours. He’s so well-spoken, and he describes everything in such wonderful detail. It comes as no surprise to you when he mentions himself to be a literature major.

He has such a unique personality and the most terrible humor. He tells you about his bike and how much he enjoys riding by the river and through the park. He tells you about his love for moon jelly and how it’s like looking up at the sky when you see them. Everything about him is just so uniquely him, but you can’t help but see all of the similarities he holds to your Namjoon.

His physical features are all the same: his eyes, his nose, his lips, his dimples, his height, and even his haircut! There’s no doubt that this Namjoon would look identical to your Namjoon if his hair were the same dark brown. His interest in the Moon and his love of literature. Your Namjoon would have excelled academically in this world just like this Namjoon. Even his love of small creatures and terribly out-of-date dad jokes is exactly the same!

He’s Namjoon.

But he doesn’t hold the memories of your Namjoon…

Taehyung had told you how Fate had tried to warn him several times. How Fate couldn’t change what would happen, and she could only hope to guide everyone to the best outcome without ruining the future herself. But how cruel could Fate be to have another Namjoon this close to you yet not be yours. To thrust this on you so soon without even a few months to grieve more.

How could someone be so heartless?

---

“And this would be the last bench of our tour.” Namjoon says as you exit the aquarium, extending an arm as he presents it to you.

“Oh wow...” You thank him and take a seat, playing along with his charade - as you have all night - as you pretend to admire the bench. You admire the dedication plaque for just a moment before you turn to him in mock disappointment, “I thought you said we’d see everything on this tour?”

He shrugs, “I may have rambled here and there...” He seems almost sheepish as he realizes how he went on and on over every topic the two of you talked about, “Sorry about that.”

“No worries here.” You assure him. You’d take 5 more tours just to listen to him ramble on and on for hours, “Now I know that fish talk through make sounds by vibrating their muscles against their bladder. Pretty weird, but I wouldn’t know that if you hadn’t told me.”

“Well, I’m glad I could educate you a bit.” He seems nervous, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shifts from one foot to the other, “Maybe we can do this again?”

“Uh…” You hesitate, “Yeah. Maybe.”

It’s just a tour. No harm in that.

“Maybe...I could take you to dinner too?” He asks.

There’s some harm in that.

He already seems nervous so you try to find the right words to say, “Oh, I-” But your face seems to give you away way too easily.

“You’re not interested.”

“No-!”

“It’s okay! I get it, I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” You stand up and try to explain, but he seems to already have your rejection in his mind.

“No, please, don’t feel like you have to. I’ve been told I can be a bit pushy.”

“No, that’s really not it! I’d love to go to dinner with you!”

That seems to catch his attention.

“Really?”

You nod, “Yeah! Just not now, or like-...anytime soon.”

The last of Namjoon’s hope turns into skepticism, “Are you sure you’re not just saying that?”

“I know how it sounds, but please-!” You stop yourself before you can blurt out the wrong thing and scare him off entirely, “I lost someone really special to me recently. His loss hasn’t been easy for me, and I don’t want to jump into something too soon. I don’t think that’d be fair to you if I’m still hung up on someone else.”

“Oh wow...I’m really sorry about that.” You thank him and take a moment to breathe, holding yourself back from the tears that want to break free, “I went through a loss not too long ago too! You’re taking the right steps, and I appreciate you thinking about my feelings.”

You smile, “Of course! Everyone deserves that.”

“Well, no dinner then, but maybe another tour next weekend? Same time?” He asks, “Strictly hanging out though. No dinner.”

You nod, “I’d love that.”

“Then it’s a date!” He says excitedly. Though, as soon as the words leave his mouth he’s stepping over himself to correct what he’d said, “Not a date! Absolutely not a date. No, ma’am.”

You can’t help but smile fondly at how endearing he is, “I can’t wait.”

You squeeze the strap of the bag on your shoulder with one hand and wave with the other, turning and departing from the current Namjoon. Maybe in time, you can fall in love with this Namjoon for who he is and not because he reminds you of your Namjoon. At that point, then this lilac-haired, crab-loving, literature enthusiast would be your Namjoon.

You can only hope that day comes sooner rather than later.

*

*

*

“So, that’s it then?”

“I’m sorry?” You turn around confused, only about 50 feet away.

“I can’t believe you’re just going to be nice to this me, but not the one that waited 1,000 years for you!” He explains.

You’re so confused that it takes a second to grasp what this Namjoon is saying, and then it hits you. This Namjoon isn’t just any Namjoon.

He’s your Namjoon.

King Kim Namjoon.

The Hopeless Romantic from the Seoul Museum of Art and History.

“Namjoon…?” You ask. You know it’s him, you’re confident. But it still seems like it’s way too good to be true.

He nods, “It’s me.”

In an instant, you’re running towards him. You fling yourself into his awaiting arms and squeeze him as tight as humanly possible, burying your face into his neck as the tears begin to form in your eyes. You let your hands thread through his soft, purple locks and allow yourself to relax with his arms squeezing around your waist.

You bask in this overwhelming feeling of being whole again. You feel light and complete for the first time in weeks and it fills you with so much joy that you can hardly contain yourself. The embrace feels like that first kiss all over again, and you just never want to let him go.

As you calm down and you come to realize that Namjoon isn’t going anywhere, you pull away just enough so you can see his own tear-stained face. His cheeks are red and his eyes are puffy, but his smile is unmistakable with those gorgeous dimples of his.

Looking at him, it’s now that you realize…

He remembered you this whole time.

You smack his chest - not enough to hurt him, but enough so he knows you mean business - and he flinches, “How dare you play with me like this, Namjoon? Do you know how hard the past few weeks have been for me?!”

“I’m sorry!” He apologizes. He runs his hands up and down your sides affectionately, trying to keep you close - and not angry with him, “Trust me when I say this wasn’t easy for me either.”

As much as you would love to be mad with him for pretending he didn’t know you, you can’t. You’re just happy he’s here more than anything. But that still begs the question, “How are you here?”

“I’m not supposed to say much, but I can tell you the other deities had a few tricks up their sleeves.” He explains. He takes a moment to admire your features and leans down to press a kiss to your temple, “But I think most of the thanks needs to go to Taehyung.”

Your eyes widen in shock, “You know about him?!”

He nods, “It was a shock, but he and the other deities explained everything.” He pulls you closer and uses a hand to cup your face, “They gave me a whole life to share with you.”

You lean into his touch, but you’re still reeling from everything that’s happened in such a short time, “And you just remember everything?”

“They gave me the memories back.” He corrects. He’s so close now and you want nothing more than to start where the two of you had left off before you broke the spell, “I guess Fate had a backup plan for him.”

“Thank Fate for that.” You say before giving in to your temptation and pulling your soulmate in for a much needed, long-awaited, proper kiss

* *

*

“You wanted to see me?”

You look up from your paperwork to see Taehyung standing in your doorway, wearing his favorite emerald 3 piece suit. His fist is raised to the door frame as if he knocked just before he spoke. You must not have heard him.

You wave him in, “Yeah, come in! I’m just finishing up with this finance report.” You expect him to come right in, but he seems hesitant to do so. “Are you okay?”

“Am I not in trouble?” He asks.

Your brow raises in confusion, “Why would you be in trouble?”

“Well, Jimin said-'' Taehyung stops. He remembers the other day after work when he’d come home to Jimin and Jeongguk, going at it in the kitchen for the 4th time in 2 weeks. He’d thought it would be funny to dump water on them - and so had Guk - but the Earth deity had apparently been unamused. Of course, him being the pettiest individual he would settle for a payback that would absolutely scare him. He sits in the chair across from you and throws one leg over the other, “Nevermind. I know what happened.”

You chuckle, “Well, I have a surprise for you. That’s why I asked for you.”

“Oh, really?!” He’s definitely surprised, “What is it?”

“Well-” You move your finance report to the paper organizer on your desk, grab your bag at your feet, and stand up, “-why don’t show you?”

He uncrosses his legs and stands, “We’re going somewhere?”

You nod, “If you’re up for it.” You hold your hand out for him, an action that’s become normal between the two of you.

He takes your hand and you both exit your office together, leaving the human way. You make your way downstairs hand-in-hand, passing patrons that still roam the halls or meander up and down the stairs taking pictures to their heart's content. It all makes you feel human, and feeling human makes you feel happy.

On your way through the lobby, you catch sight of Eunha talking to another security guard. She’d made a request to switch shifts, and you made sure to have Hoseok take over her position under the guise of someone else. She looks happier, but you know better. Thankfully, her shift will be over in a few more hours.

“She’s pretty strong.” Taehyung comments, seeming to already know what you’re thinking. “I talked to her this morning and at lunch. She’s holding it together.”

You manage half a smile, “That’s good.”

Seokjin spots you walking together as you get closer to the exit and his smile widens, “Goodnight, (Y/n)! Goodnight, Taehyung!”

“Have a good night, Seokjin!” You respond, offering a small nod.

“See you tomorrow!” Taehyung waves. Seokjin gives him an indiscreet wink and you pretend you don’t see it even when Taehyung gives him an even more obvious wink back.

You playfully bump him with your hip and he pulls you with him, raising your joined hands above your head and resting them on your opposite shoulder. You squeeze as tight as you can together to fit through the door frame and out to the open air.

“I heard you promoted him.” Taehyung mentions as you make your descent down the large staircase.

You shrug, “There was an opening available.”

“Was there?” He asks, nudging you with his elbow.

You nod, “Yes. There was.” You nudge him back.

“Are you sure~?” The blonde asks again, “I’d hate to see you fall victim to those silly human emotions~”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Oh, you are something else!” You drop his hand and rush two steps ahead of him, but he’s right behind you.

“I’m just looking out for you!” He defends. He rushes down the steps to the bottom before you make it to the last step and he puts his hands out to stop you, “We wouldn’t want to upset the council, would we?”

“I think you’ve done enough angering the council to cover me.” You remind him, poking his nose with your pointer finger, “Besides, maybe I want to get under their skin.”

“All of them? Or someone specific?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

You sigh, “I’m not saying Seowoo deserves it, but that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“I can’t argue with that.” He agrees. He looks both ways down the sidewalk, “Which way?”

“This way.” You point towards the side of the museum where the street light is out, the darkness wrapping around the corner and making the perfect disappearing point.

You take his hand and together you both walk into the shadows, walking into the darkest section of the sidewalk before disappearing at the corner. You round the trunk of a cherry willow, a sliver of distant light shining through the drooping branches.

Taehyung runs his thumb over your hand and stops, “Are you wearing rings?” He pulls back to check and does a double-take when he sees you in the dim light, “Why’d you change?”

“We’re at a university.” You explain. You’ve changed from your work clothes to a university sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, “I’d rather look like a student than a teacher. You should probably change too.”

“Oh...sure.” In his own fashion, he changes into a white shirt under a baggy, light beige sweater vest, a pair of jeans, and orange converse. He looks himself over once before fashioning a pair of gold-rimmed glasses to finish his look. “Where are we?”

“Eunha’s college.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, “Why are we here? She’s still at work.”

“I want you to meet a friend of mine.” You explain.

“You have friends?” He asks, earning an unamused glare from you, “Sorry.”

“This way.” You lead Taehyung off the grass to the actual path and walk under the lights back towards the main building. When you reach a fork in the path you make a left to go around the side of the building between another series of buildings on the other side of the path. You keep walking until you reach another large area with benches, tables, and a fountain.

Sitting on the side of the fountain with just enough light that you can see them, is a trio of 3 men with different hair colors. One with midnight blue, a pastel pink, and lilac. Of course, you recognize them all without a problem at all.

“Hey, guys! Sorry, I’m late, I just had to grab Taehyung.” You call out.

The pastel pink head turns to reveal Hoseok - who’s changed from his normal all-black outfit to a black t-shirt with the word obey in colorful letters, bright orange pants, layered necklaces, and a pair of black, yellow-tinted glasses resting on the top of his head, “No worries, we haven’t gotten started yet.”

“Yeah, Joon was just telling us about the assignment we missed.” Yoongi agrees, revealing himself to be the midnight blue head of hair. He’s wearing an all blue, leaf-patterned outfit with a TuneSquad jersey underneath his top.

“You wouldn’t have missed it if you made it to class on time!” Taehyung freezes as soon as he hears his voice, pulling you to a stop as well. He knows that voice better than anyone, knowing damn well it belongs to someone that’s supposed to be dead.

Hoseok shrugs and leans back, “What can I say? I had priorities to attend to.”

“I just wasn’t interested.” Yoongi stands up and takes a few steps to stretch, revealing Namjoon sitting at the end of the three.

Namjoon is wearing a pair of light wash jeans and a black belt with a white shirt tucked in and a light blue button-up over it. He sighs, “How you have the highest marks in the class I will never know.”

Taehyung looks between the three of them, going back and forth between the two deities and Namjoon before settling on you, “What is going on right now?”

You squeeze his hand, “Just don’t say anything.” You pull him with you to join the others, coming to a stop in front of all of them. You point to the blonde and then to Hoseok, “Taehyung, this is Hoseok-”

The walking gumball throws up a peace sign, “Sup.”

“-Yoongi.”

“Hey.” He gives a small wave

“-And Namjoon.”

Namjoon is the only one to stand and walk up to Taehyung to offer his hand, “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” He asks, shaking the old king’s hand.

“(Y/n) hasn’t been able to shut up about you,” Namjoon explains with a devious smile. You visibly freeze and that only eggs him on more, “She said you were annoying when she first transferred into our class, then she said she thought she was in love with you.”

Taehyung gives you a look and you completely ignore him, “Namjoon!”

“Of course, we all knew she was,” Hoseok adds with a teasing smile of his own.

“Hoseok! Shut up!”

“How interesting.” Taehyung chuckles, happy to know how you feel even as you pretend you don’t exist, “Well, it’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Why don’t we all move this way? Maybe grab a bite to eat?” You suggest, hoping to move on from your own embarrassment.

“Yes!” Hoseok jumps up and throws his arms in the air before dropping them back down to his sides, “I’m starving!”

Yoongi scoffs, “You’re always starving...”

“I’m growing. I need sustenance.” Hoseok defends, patting his stomach for emphasis.

You walk up beside him and pat the back of his head, “I think all of that food is going right to your head.”

Hoseok looks like a kicked puppy and Namjoon sweeps into his defense, “C’mon, guys, don’t pick on him!”

“Yeah! Don’t pick on me!” He pouts, crossing his arms.

“He can’t help it if he loses brain cells without food,” Namjoon says, turning and grabbing his belongings while you and Yoongi laugh at Hoseok’s expense.

“Do you want me to swear at you?!” The poor god of Death looks absolutely appalled and utterly betrayed by the lilac-haired man. He huffs, “You children have no respect for your elders.”

“Can I quote you on that?” Yoongi asks, walking past Hoseok to grab his own bag.

“Absolutely not!”

Taehyung watches the dysfunctional chaos before him, in awe that the 3 pillars of balance could act like humans. Not just with each other, but with someone he himself once called a friend. You’re all so different than you are at the museum and the council meetings, it’s like you’re not even the same people.

“Tae?” You ask, pulling him out of his confused state. You hold your hand out to him, asking him to join you as the others continue to walk ahead. He accepts.

The 5 of you walk together, further away from the buildings on campus to the fence that lines the end of the property. You all forego the sidewalk for walking across the lawn, getting further away from the lights as you go.

Hoseok comes to a stop in the middle of the grass and Taehyung almost walks into him, “Do you think this is far enough?”

Yoongi looks around and shrugs, “I don’t think anyone will notice.”

“Notice what?” Taehyung asks.

“Way to sound like we brought him here to murder him.” Namjoon jokes.

“Namjoon. Hold my hand.” You say, dropping Taehyung’s for his.

Hoseok and Yoongi hold hands across from you and Namjoon laughs, “Oh, are we having that seance now?” He looks at Taehyung and winks, “Sorry, I guess we forgot to mention this part.”

“Just hold my hand.” You demand. He does and Hoseok takes his other, creating a chain between the 4 of you.

Yoongi takes a deep breath and sighs, “Alright, let’s do it.”

You and Hoseok nod in agreement and Namjoon nods as well, acting as though what you’re all doing is just a practical joke you hadn’t let him in on. It’s only when a soft golden light starts to travel between your hands and to him that he starts to get worried.

“What are you guys doing?” He asks, fearful of what’s going on. He tries to pull away, but you and Hoseok are much stronger than the poor human. The light only continues to grow brighter, and the brighter it glows the more concerned Namjoon becomes, “Guys-?!”

The light washes over him like a wave and it’s like someone has opened his eyes for the very first time again. He takes a deep breath, and then he’s looking around at the others and at himself and at Taehyung and it’s like he’s experiencing life for the first time all over again.

“How did-? But I thought-” He struggles to find the right words to say, unsure where to start, “What’s going on?”

You step in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Namjoon, I’d like to formally introduce myself. I’m (Y/n), and I’m Fate.”

His eyes widen, “Fate…?”

You nod and Hoseok pushes you out of the way to make his own introduction, “I’m Hoseok, but you’d know me better as Death.”

“You’re Death?” Namjoon asks, obviously not able to believe that someone like Hoseok could be something as dark and daunting as Death.

“Death equals mercy,” Hoseok explains. Both you and Yoongi push him from both sides and he chuckles, “Sometimes…”

Namjoon nods, not yet believing it but going along with the information anyways. He turns to Yoongi, “Does that make you Life?”

“Was it my sunny disposition that gave me away?” The blue-haired deity asks, earning a laugh from the king.

You move in front of Namjoon again and gently take his arm, “And this is Taehyung.” You pull him to where the blonde stands, still in shock, “You two have already met before, but you might remember him a bit differently.”

You place a hand over Taehyung’s head and down his front, revealing how he looked the very first time he had met with the king, “Jihye…”

“Hey.” Taehyung smiles sheepishly, waving shyly as his old appearance morphs back into his college boy disguise, “It’s been a while.”

They both just stare at each other, one nervous and the other in disbelief. Taehyung can’t help but think of all the things Namjoon could want to say to him. How disappointed he is. How upset he must be. It comes as no surprise to anyone when Namjoon moves forward and pulls Taehyung into a hug. His arms cross behind his head and he pulls Taehyung as close as humanly possible without hurting him, “I’ve missed you.”

His words are like a breath of fresh air and Taehyung finds himself relaxing into the embrace and holding his friend back just as tight, “I’ve missed you too…”

It’s a special moment, one Taehyung never thought he would get. His first friend is back and it’s thanks to 3 very unlikely people.

“Why didn’t you come to see me after the spell worked?” Namjoon asks, pulling away.

Taehyung looks down, slightly ashamed, “I didn’t want to mess up again.”

“Again?”

“Like the first time. We’d been so close, but even if I had made it work you still would have-” He stops. He doesn’t need to say it. Not when everyone already knows what he’s going to say.

“But I thought once we broke the spell I’d have to wait until my next life?” Namjoon asks, reiterating what both he and Eunha had put together.

“Technically, this is your next life.” Yoongi mentions.

Life’s revelation comes as a shock to both Namjoon and Taehyung, “What?”

“You were supposed to meet in this life, but because you two just had to make it happen sooner-” Yoongi makes sure to glare so hard in Taehyung’s direction that his planet might even shiver, “-the spell tore your soul away from this one and placed it with your previous body once the spell took hold again.”

“With the spell broken, we were able to put your soul back in this body and merge them together.” You explain. The 3 of you have been sitting on this plan for weeks, and you’ve carefully crafted a friendship with this Namjoon since his soul left his previous body just to ensure you’d be able to make this change happen altogether.

“You’ve been able to do this the whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?!” Taehyung asks, completely shocked. You give him this ‘are you kidding me right now' look and he seems to get the hint, “Right. Fate’s strings…multiple outcomes.”

“I can’t believe this…I can’t wait to tell Eunha.” The modern king is still entranced with himself like he’s never looked at his body before. And then his words hit him and he realizes that Eunha isn’t here and has no idea that he’s alive, “I have to go see her right now-!”

He turns to take off in a sprint and Hoseok places himself in front of him with a hand on his chest, “Not so fast, deadman.”

“Huh?”

Yoongi groans, “You cannot just go hunting her down.” He’d spent far too much time conversing with young adults and various incompetent professors just for this plan to work and he was not going to let it all boil down to nothing.

Namjoon however, doesn’t understand exactly what’s at stake, “Why not? I need to tell her I’m alive and that I’m okay!”

“The magic that brought you back is still fragile. If you go to her now then the whole thing could blow up in all of our faces!” Hoseok explains in his own, dramatic fashion.

“So, what? I’m supposed to just wait?!” The king asks in disbelief.

“It will happen as Fate allows.” You remind him, “You’ve waited this long for a miracle, I think you can wait just a bit more.”

Your words are simple and still just as cryptic as always, but they put him at ease and bring him back to his senses. He nods, “Right…”

“Geez, why couldn’t you have been that easy?” Yoongi says, turning to Taehyung.

The blonde scoffs, “I am easy!”

Hoseok laughs, “I don’t think you actually know what that means.”

Taehyung crosses his arms, “I’m doing my best, okay?”

“Well, now that we got all of that settled-” Hoseok claps his hands together loudly and rubs them together, “-let’s go get some grub.”

Yoongi turns to Hoseok in disbelief and hits his arm, “Are you serious, right now? You don’t need to eat to survive!” The blue-haired deity reminds him.

“But Namjoon does! I’m sure Namjoon would love a nice warm meal.” Hoseok turns to the poor human with a look that resembles a kicked puppy and it’s like they’ve gone back to being undercover again.

“I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat I guess?” Namjoon caves, the god of Death breaking into celebration while the god of Life can only sigh in disappointment, “If we go to that one place downtown we can order drinks at the student price.”

The offer of a few beers seems to peak Yoongi’s interest much more than a measly human meal, “Hoseok gets to pay for everything.”

Hoseok shrugs, “I don’t care. It’s not like I can’t create my own money.”

He turns to get back on track for the gate to leave campus and Namjoon trails after him, “Wait you can do that?! How does that even work?”

“Oh, don’t get him started. Just blame magic like every other human and let’s get to the bus before it leaves.” Yoongi calls out, starting at a slower pace behind them. They leave you and Taehyung to take the back of the group, the both of you trudging along at a slow pace behind them.

“So, are you going back to your duties now that everything is done?” Taehyung asks. A part of him hopes that you’ll stick around or maybe even come to visit him on his own planet, but he knows that you have your own duties to attend to.

But you’ve thought about this as well. You knew that once Namjoon’s memories were merged and he’d be left to go and find Eunha on his own, that you’d be free to go back to how you were before this fiasco started. But things are different now. Now, you have Taehyung who’s snuck his way into your heart and made you feel emotions that you’d left reserved for humans. He’s helped you understand how to feel without letting it interfere with your job, and you don’t want to let that go just yet.

You sigh, “You know, I don’t have a planet of my own. I really just drift freely within space when I’m not doing anything.” You kick at the dirt, “Maybe I could stay here on Earth. Do what humans do.”

He’s shocked, “You’re staying on earth?”

You shrug, “Yeah. I heard there’s this museum with this ancient mummy exhibit.” With a mischievous, all-knowing grin you ask, “Wanna go check it out sometime?”

Taehyung can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face. He takes his arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side, “I’d love to.”

You may not be able to look at your own future together, but at least you know that the both of you can do it together.

Maybe Hui was right.

Maybe for Fate, the future is written in the stars.

~ Thank you for reading ~

[pawsitivelymiraculous]

Meeting for the first time. (Day one)

A/N: Okay so I'm going to try to do this. I am going to make a tag list so if you want to be tagged please let me know. Btw most of them are going to be one shots but I may continue some of them like this one. Also, I'm sorry for the rushed ending and the formatting, my computer decided to hate me today so I'm doing this from my phone I'll fix it tomorrow.

@biodad-bruce-month

Masterlist

Meeting Part one

"Marinette, sweetheart, you are adopted."

Adopted

When her parents told her they had something important to talk to her she figured it was about school or worst-case scenario, they found out about her extracurricular activities as a super heroine.

No, instead they told Marinette that her whole life had been a lie. 

They sat her down and explained that she had been adopted when she was nine months old. They tripped over themselves trying to reassure her that they loved her as their own and tried to defend the reason why they never told her.

Marinette didn't know what to think. Things like this were only supposed to happen in movies. Not become her reality. 

Marinette felt so confused as she tried to process it all. None of it made sense. Tom and Sabine were her biological parents. They… they had to be.

But, the truth was slowly sinking in. 

Marinette had never truly understood the expression "ignorance is bliss" until that moment. Somehow not knowing the truth felt like a better option than the alternative.

"But, why now?" Marinette asked hesitantly. "If you weren't planning to ever tell me, then why do it now?" 

She really hoped she was wrong, but in movies that was when they tell her that one of her bio parents died. Usually, said parent was royalty meaning that she would be next in line for the throne. Oh gosh, would she have to move to a strange country and rule it? 

Oh wait, she was apparently born in America. And as far as Marinette knew, America didn't have a monarch.

She snapped out of her thoughts in time to see Tom and Sabine share a look. Finally, Sabine spoke up "Do you remember the scholarship honey?"

She did. 

Marinette had been given a one in a lifetime opportunity to study in a prestigious art school in the outskirts of Paris and was offered a scholarship that covered half of the tuition.

Unfortunately, the Dupain-cheng's didn't have enough money to cover the other half. While the bakery was fairly popular, all of their savings had dried up the month prior when the delivery truck broke down, and they were forced to buy a new one.

Because of this, Marinette had to turn down the scholarship. 

Marinette's stomach dropped as she realized that her parents... or well Tom and Sabine had been struggling financially, even without the scholarship, because of her, with the knowledge of being adopted she couldn't help but feel like an unnecessary burden to them.

Seeing her daughter's crestfallen expression, Sabine rushed to Marinette's side giving her a small hug before saying. "Sweetie, we love you okay? And it broke our hearts when you had to turn down that amazing opportunity, so we tried to contact your biological father hoping he would be able to help us." She explained. 

"We never heard back from him." Tom chimed in "but we thought it would be better to let you know in case we do later on." 

Marinette nodded. That… made sense, and it was far better than what Marinette had immediately assumed.

Still, all the information was too overwhelming. Marinette needed to talk to the kwamis, they would help her understand the situation better. 

"I- I need to go." Marinette stood up and sprinted up the stairs, towards her room. Ignoring her parents who called after her.

She ran up to her bed and landed face first in it. All the kwamis flew out from their hiding spots and gathered around her.

Tikki nuzzled her cheek. "Oh Marinette, I'm so sorry."

Marinette let out a small humorless chuckle. "So, you heard huh?"

"Sure did, bug." Plagg said, floating close to her face. "Personally, I think we should find that father of yours and… you know… bless him with a not so great day."

This time Marinette actually laughed. "I think you meant curse and no, we are not going to do that." Plagg rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, Marinette felt tired. She could continue talking with the kwamis later. She needed to sleep, yeah"I think I'm going to sleep for a bit," she informed them

Tikki nodded. "Sweet dreams Marinette." The rest of the kwamis echoed this as Marinette drifted off to sleep.

~♡~♡~♡~

Plagg grinned as he turned on the computer. 

Tikki flew up to him. "What are you doing?" She asked, scandalized.

"We are going to google Pigtails' biological father," he explained. 

Tikki groaned, "you don't even know how to use a computer! And there's no 'we' if you want to do something that's your problem!"

Plagg smirked devilishly "Sugar Cube, we are literal gods. We can do this! Don't you want to know who he is."

Tikki begrudgingly agreed, she even helped him open the browser. "Okay so type in 'Bruce Wayne'"she instructed. "And then press that weird looking key that says enter alright?"

Plagg complied. The two kwamis turned to look at the results. 

Both kwamis gaped at the screen. Plagg whispered."Well, if this is the same guy but if so-"

"Then Marinette is the daughter of a billionaire." Tikki cut in, examining the picture. "Plagg, I think this is him."

"It's the eyes isn't it?" Tikki nodded.  "Yeah, well that would mean that a freaking billionaire ignored the pleas of the adoptive parents of his biological daughter!" Plagg exclaimed, growing angry.

"Well maybe he didn't believe them?" Tikki tried to reason.

Plagg suddenly growled at the screen."Look! He has like as many kids as he has money!" 

Tikki frowned, "Then why would he abandon his daughter?"

"Because he's a jerk! And I thought my kid's dad was bad!" Plagg glared at the picture causing Tikki to giggle. "What?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you so worked up over something that isn't cheese." She teased.

Plagg huffed, "well, your Bug gives me cheese, but if she's sad then she forgets. So it's really in my best interest to make sure Pigtails isn't upset."

Tikki laughed. "Yeah, yeah I totally believe you." She said sarcastically. "Anyways, do you think Marinette realizes her father is famous? "

Plagg snorted. "Are you kidding? If she knew she would still be freaking out." Tikki hummed in agreement. "Well, I think that now that we know who he is it's time to do what Pigtails would not let me do." Plagg concluded.

"Wait, what? No!" Tikki exclaimed.

"Ooo can I help with that?" A new voice asked. The kwamis turned to see Kaalki looking at them with a mischievous grin.

"Sure thing!" Plagg said just as Tikki was saying "No!"

The two ignored the spotted kwamii and began plotting how they were going to make sure Bruce Wayne would have the most unfortunate luck for at least a couple of days.

~♡~♡~♡~

It had not been a very good day for Bruce.

The DNA test had finally arrived, and he found out that he did, in fact, have another biological child. Unfortunately, Tim found the test and his efforts of trying to keep it a secret had been in vain because then most of his children interrogated him about their newfound sibling. Even Jason was there which was surprising.

Thankfully, they were wise enough not to tell Damian, because otherwise Marinette Dupain-cheng would have been in grave danger.

Dick, along with the rest, insisted that they needed to meet Marinette. So with the help of Tim, they arranged a trip to Paris for the next day. Meaning that Bruce had less than 12 hours to find Marinette and talk to her before that happened.

So as soon as all of his kids left, he asked Alfred to arrange an early flight. 

Which is how he found himself in front of Collège Françoise Dupont, the high school his daughter attended. 

In the rush, he had forgotten to call beforehand, so he called Alfred and asked him to inform Marinette's parents of his arrival. 

Bruce still wanted to talk to Marinette before Dick or someone else inevitably found out that he had left. So he got out of the car and walked inside, only to be greeted by a very flustered looking principal.

It wasn't until she called him "Mister Wayne" that Marinette realized who he was. 

"Mister Wayne! It's uh, an honor to meet you!" The man exclaimed nervously while shakily  extending his hand. "I received your call and I informed Marinette's homeroom teacher of your arrival. They- they should be in my office right now."

Bruce thanked him. On the way to the office Mr. Damocles told him "What an excellent student" Marinette was. He insisted that Marinette was one of the best students in his school. It made Bruce suspicious of the way that principal treated the rest of his students.

Finally, they arrived at the office. Marinette sat in a chair looking rather confused as her teacher stood next to her wearing a tight smile.

Mrs. Bustier introduced herself in a similar manner as Mr. Damocles. 

It wasn't until she called him "Mister Wayne" that Marinette realized who he was. 

Her face paled as she let out a small gasp. "You- you are my father."

In retrospect, he probably should have introduced himself to her first.

[berrydoodleoo]

spring is in the world

Title from ‘since feeling is first’. Chosen with Luna in mind, who in this AU has defied her fate and is no longer confined to parentheses. Read more about the art here, or have a short fic instead:

In hindsight, she shouldn’t have assumed things were going as well as they seemed. She had no great experience in taking lovers, after all, having devoted most of her thirty-odd years to fighting the Scourge in one form or another. She had lost so much time, first to her injuries after Altissa and the coma that had swallowed her for years, and then to the terrible fear and lethargy that gripped her once Ardyn was dead and her purpose in life (seemingly) fulfilled.

Not to mention that Noctis and Prompto were Lucian, whose upper-classes still ascribed to all sorts of prescriptive rules about romance and marriage. She should have been more vigilant -- Prompto in particular still regarded Noct and the sunlit world with nervousness bordering on dread, as if they might be ripped away from him at any moment. So what if she had danced with Noctis and Prompto at the ball held for the New Dawn’s first anniversary last week? So what if she had kissed Noctis outside her room, when he very courteously escorted her to her quarters? So what if Prompto had given her a gift of watercolor paints and cold-pressed paper at breakfast, asking with a flirty smirk if she had a model for her newest painting?

And most of all -- so what if they had made plans to celebrate Noctis’ birthday with a trip outside the city, where they would sleep (hopefully together) beneath the stars (her first test of her new resolve to walk in the dark without fear). So what? They hadn’t said anything out loud, hadn’t made any promises. She shouldn’t have assumed. She should never assume. It was such a terrible risk, forgetting to be afraid. She should have known….

It’s when she lays her hand over his, resting on Noctis’ chest, that she realizes they’ve been having two separate conversations. “He’s here to stay, Prompto,” she says, pressing gently. “I promise.”

“I know, I know.” Prompto clears his throat, forces a rough little laugh. “It’s not that.” He sniffs.

It gives her an ugly jolt to see him so distressed. They’d only been watching Noct sleep, praising his handsome features and planning how best to tease him when he awoke. Umbra is snoring cutely at Noctis’ side and Pryna is probably still in the field, chasing butterflies. Everything had seemed perfect.

Prompto glances skittishly at her frown and then begins to babble. “I just, uh -- got used to checking, you know? Making sure he hadn’t stopped breathing or started bleeding inside or something. It’ll, uh.” He shakes his head, tries to pull his hand away. “It’ll be weird not being able to check, you know, but I won’t -- I mean, I know you two -- I won’t get in the way, I won’t make things difficult, I promise--”

“Prompto,” Luna interrupts gently, struggling to follow. “I don’t understand what you’re--”

Prompto rakes his free hand over his eyes, smearing the hint of tears around. “You guys are gonna be great, you know?” He smiles bravely, props his head on his fist like they’re still chatting idly and he isn’t weeping openly. “You’ve waited for each other for so long. I guess destiny can be kind after all.” He tries to smile.

But he can’t keep the bleakness out of his eyes, and it’s clear that Prompto doesn’t believe any of this kindness has been reserved for him. “Prompto,” Luna bursts out, fumbling, confused, “are you -- breaking up with Noctis? Through me?”

Prompto recoils, or tries to; she still won’t let him get away. “O-of course not,” he stammers, “we weren’t -- I mean -- not really, we haven’t, not since -- he wouldn’t lie to you like that--”

Luna untangles this with some effort. “Do you mean you two aren’t together?” Confused, she reviews their interactions from the past few days, and then from the last time she saw them, after the final battle. “You haven’t been -- Prompto Argentum, you two haven’t been refraining because of me, have you?”

Prompto gapes at her. She gapes back.

“You have!” Astonished, Luna leans back to peer at the sky. “Why in the -- Prompto. Dear, dearest Prompto.” She checks on Noctis, in case their spirited conversation has woken him, but he sleeps on obliviously. She’ll have words with him later.

Prompto tries to sit up, retreat again, and this time Luna tugs him quite firmly back into place. “Don’t you dare,” she orders, and he freezes. “Prompto, you and Noctis love each other. You’ve been part of each other’s lives for so long, have supported and believed in one another through the worst of--” She finds she can’t find the words to continue, and tries again. “I would never, will never, seek to separate the two of you.”

Prompto’s lower lip is trembling. Luna starts to shift forward, cup his cheek, and then realizes such a gesture might be unwelcome. Dear gods, she has misread this. Such a fool she is. She’d thought--

“Quite the opposite,” she finally continues, quietly, despite the cold terror creeping through her veins. “So long as the two of you have one another, I may have peace in my heart, for I know that one good, true thing prevails.”

She blinks back a sudden flood of tears. Perhaps they don’t want her. Perhaps she doesn’t have a place with them after all. She wants her room, suddenly, her safe, prison-like room, where nothing joyful grows but nothing can hurt her, either.

“But you guys have been -- oh.” Prompto blinks rapidly, and then starts to redden. “Oh. Is this a, uh, Tenebrean thing? Like the triad thing? Oh man, is this what Iggy was trying to -- oh, man.”

Luna can’t help it; she bursts into damp, semi-hysterical giggles, despite the icy shake in her guts. Prompto smiles up at her blurrily, and then starts to laugh as well.

“Man,” he says again, suddenly beaming, eyes still tear-reddened. “He is gonna give me so much crap about this. I am literally never gonna live it down. Wow.” He takes a deep breath and squeezes her hand tenderly, overwhelmed. “Is this really -- you might have to -- I am really oblivious sometimes, but uh, I guess you know that now.” He laughs again, edged, at himself.

Luna starts to nod, changes to shaking her head, and then feels hot, wet tears dripping down her face. She’ll feel foolish later. Prompto sits up, and this time she lets him, because he’s moving to lean closer, cup her face and wipe her tears away.

“Luna,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I misunderstood.” She presses his rough, large hands to her cheeks and feels herself crumple a little more. “No,” he continues. “No, please don’t cry. I can’t -- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Luna takes a deep breath. She isn’t been rejected. You aren’t being rejected, she reminds herself. “No, no,” she says wetly, “I shouldn’t have assumed--”

She stops herself. She’s making an effort to reprimand herself less these days. She is trying so hard to be better. And in a fight for blame, she suspects she and Prompto could go round and round until the sun went down and never came up again, but that isn’t what she wants. For either of them.

Luna takes a deep breath. She refuses to start their relationship in a spiral of apologies and self-blame. She doesn’t want that anymore. She wants to open the door to a rolling world of yellow suns and indigo skies and, eventually, gentle nights that fill her with wonder and comfort instead of fear. She wants to let go of the fear and her desperate need for control -- she wants to be free, a part of the world for the first time in her life.

So instead of berating herself, she grips his hands in hers and lets their combined grip rest against their (still sleeping, seriously, Noct?) king’s chest. Umbra is watching them with interest, she notes. And then she takes another breath.

“Prompto,” she says, falling back on an old, formal proposal from a romantic show she used to watch, as a teenager confined within Fenestala Manor. “Will you grant me the honor of your affection and presence, and keep a place for me in your heart?”

Prompto’s lovely eyes widen, full of hope and delight. Pure sunlight. He’s grinning and she’s breathless. All further words fly from her mind.

His fingers squeeze hers as he leans forward for a kiss, and then another, tentative turning into playful, his smile slotting sweetly against hers again and again. Blindly, her hands work themselves free to touch his cheeks, his throat, the rasp of his short beard. He retreats for a quick breath, tracing her lips with hot, hooded eyes, and then devours her mouth in a kiss that raises her onto her knees, toes curled and body tingling. Oh, oh, oh--

“Hey,” Noctis grumbles, exactly like a grumpy cat awoken from a nap. “Uh, did I miss something? I thought we were waiting till my birthday.”

Prompto gasps, wrenching away. “That’s what that’s all about?” he demands shrilly, and Luna bursts into giggles. “The camping trip? Oh my gods, Gladio’s gonna kill me--”

Noctis pushes himself up his elbows, squinting and scowling with the sun in his eyes. “What? You seriously didn’t know?” He sits up, absently guiding Luna to sit at his side in a way that makes her heart warm. “Thought you were kidding about that.”

“--never gonna hear the end of this, crap--”

Noctis looks to Luna, about to ask something -- probably ‘what on Eos is happening right now, I was only asleep for thirty minutes’ -- but then his expression changes and he makes a wise choice of priorities. “Uh, Luna? Pryna’s after the cheese again.”

Luna yelps and Pryna yips, betrayed, and the dog knocks the picnic basket over in her haste to escape her mistress, wedge of cheese clamped firmly in her jaws. Prompto dives to catch her -- “I’ve got her!” -- but he doesn’t. Noct fails to catch him and he lands on their legs, trapping them. Umbra runs in circles and barks for the sheer, chaotic joy of it. Pryna devours her stolen prize. And in the sunlit field, with her loves bickering and playing at her side, Lunafreya laughs until she cries for the first time in her life.

[gamergirl929]

The Sweater Thief (Christen Press x Reader)

Anonymous Request:  Reader and a uswnt player are dating and the uswnt player has a little kid that's looks exactly like her. One day reader realizes most of their sweaters/shirts are gone she finds them in kids room but let's the kids keep them and goes to buys new ones and let's the kid pick them out.

2,500 words of nothing but UTTER fluff, I hope you guys enjoy it! 

Depending on the response to this fic, I plan on writing a prequel, so please, let me know what you think!

“Baby, have you seen my hoodie?” You call out as you fumble through your girlfriend’s closet, the woman smiling as she makes her way towards you, her arms wrapping around you from behind.  

“No, I haven’t.” She whispers in your ear, kissing your cheek.  

“Maybe Anna has?” You ask and she hums.

“Anna! Have you seen Y/N's sweaters?!” She calls out, a squeaky voice replying seconds later.

“Nooo!”  

You smile, turning around in Christen's hold, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Y/N! Y/N! Wook at the picture I drew!”  

Anna runs into the bedroom, the little girl a carbon copy of you, even though you were related to her in no way, but you’d be lying if you didn’t think of her as your own.

You’d been with Christen for over 3 years and living with her for 1, so needless to say, the four-year-old looked at you as a mother figure.

You kneel down grinning when she makes a beeline towards you, throwing her tiny arms around your neck.

The little girl shows off her art proudly, her grin wide.

Christen smiles, green orbs darting around the page grin widening when she sees Anna had drawn you, her and Christen holding hands.

“It’s beautiful sweetie, want to hang it on the fridge?” You ask and she nods excitedly, wiggling in your hold before excitedly running into the kitchen.  

“No running Annemarie!” Christen yells and you chuckle, turning to her with a grin.  

“Like mother like daughter, I mean how many times have you tripped running down the hallway?” You snicker and she rolls her eyes.  

“Shut up.”  

You duck down, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to her lips, the woman beaming.  

“Ewwwwwww.”  

The two of you abruptly pull apart and you grin, the little girl peering around the corner before she makes a break for it.  

“RULES DON’T APPLY TO ME!” You yell chasing after her and Christen grins.  

“No fair!” Anna yells, seconds later erupting into a fit of giggles as you, Christen suspects, catch her.  

“Mommmmyyy!” Anna yells and Christen rolls her eyes, running into the living room to protect her baby.  

The 4-year-old giggles as she wiggles in your hold, your fingers digging into her ticklish sides.  

Before you realize what’s happening Christen sneaks up behind you, wrapping her arms around you.  

“Get her!” She laughs as her daughter tickles your sides, your booming laugh filling the living room.  

Eventually, you’re panting, unable to catch your breath, the little girl taking pity on you as she wraps her little arms around your legs.  

“I think Y/N’s had enough.”  

You nod.  

“Yeah, yeah she has.”  

                                                            ***

“Are you sure Y/N isn’t Anna’s mom?” Kelley jests at the park later that day, the woman rolling her eyes as she watches you and Anna run around the field, the little girl giggling when you catch her.  

The similarities between the two were absolutely striking, the two of you having the same Y/E/C orbs and same Y/H/C hair, the two of you even looking similar features wise.  

“I mean I admit the similarities are...” Christen shakes her head when you trip, her daughter running over to you and climbing on your back.  

“STRIKING?” Kelley snorts and Christen shrugs, watching as you hold her daughter, the little girl sitting on your shoulders as she moves along the monkey bars, your hold on her making Christen feel absolutely no sense of worry.  

Anna had taken to you rather quickly when you joined the Utah Royals, coming through a trade from the Houston Dash.  

Your first day of practice Anna had toddled over to you, and without any hesitation you picked her up. 

One look across the field at you holding her daughter and that was all she wrote, Christen was absolutely smitten.  

3 years later and your relationship was better than ever, you’d been there for nearly half of Anna’s life and if Christen has her way, you’ll be there for the entirety of it.  

“You ever gonna pop the question?” Kelley gives Christen a nudge and her green orbs widen, cheeks flushed.  

“It’ll happen when it happens.”  

A sudden loud, and lengthy whistle makes the two turn towards the playground, both smiling when they see you pointing at a nearby ice cream truck, waiting for Christen’s approval to get her daughter an ice cream before you run towards the truck.

“You’ve trained her well.” Kelley snickers and the forward rolls her eyes, smiling softly when she sees the two of you heading back towards her, the little girl munching on an ice cream cone before holding it to you, only pulling it away when you’d tasted the sweet treat.  

Christen moves to her feet, cupping your cheeks and pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“I love you.” She whispers and you grin.  

“I love you too.”  

“Kewwey!” Anna holds her cone out, giggling when Kelley gets some of the ice cream on her nose.  

“Hey Kel you got a little-

You point at her nose and the defender rolls her eyes.  

“I know Y/N.”  

                                                            ***

It’s a week later when you let out a lengthy hum, searching in every drawer and in the closet yet again for a hoodie you know you’d just seen the day before.

“Missing something?” Christen asks and you nod.  

“Yeah, another one of my hoodies are gone.” You pout, the forward’s brows furrowing, her green orbs darting around the closet.  

“They can’t just be vanishing; they have to be going somewhere...” She mumbles and you smile.  

“You sure you aren’t stealing them; I know you had a habit of that when we first started dating.” You turn to face her, your hands on her waist.  

“That was BEFORE you moved in.” She giggles when you lean down kissing her jawline playfully.  

“Press, I’ve seen you wearing them more than I have.” You nuzzle into the curve of her jaw and she giggles.  

“Maybe, but I’m no sweater thief.”  

You glance over your shoulder before you start pressing teasing kisses to her neck.  

“Admit it Chris.” You whisper, the woman swallowing hard as she tilts her head back, eyes closing. You keep an ear out for the sound of little feet, just in case the little girl may leave the living room and come into your bedroom.  

“I used to, but I’ve kicked the habit.” Christen shudders and you pull back, grinning.  

“We’ll continue this interrogation later.” Your eyes rake down her front, biting your bottom lip as you give your girlfriend a wink.  

“Tease.” She mumbles under her breath, and you smirk, sending her a wink.  

“You know it’s my middle name, baby.”   

                                                            ***

It’s a few weeks later that a surprise ends up on your doorstep, a surprise in the form of Tobin Heath, Emily Sonnett, Lindsey Horan and Alex Morgan, Kelley excitedly squealing as she pushes her way into your house.  

“Auntie Toby!” Anna squeals, unable to contain her excitement when she realizes Emily, Lindsey and Alex are there too.  

“Auntie Emmy, Windsey, Awex!” She giggles, wrapping her tiny arms around all of them, the group of women working around the room until they get to you.  

“Christen hasn’t got rid of you yet?” Emily jests and you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms tightly around her, Lindsey getting in on the hug.  

“She’s stuck with me, and besides, she’d have to have me evicted because I’ve lived here for more than 30 days.”  

Christen flicks you in the head on her way by and you pout.  

“You wouldn’t be able to tell, but she loves me.” You snicker and Emily snorts.  

“We definitely can.”  

“Y/N! Y/N!” Anna runs over to you with a grin and you pick her up, throwing her in the air, the little girl giggling.  

“Wook what Awex got me!” She holds up a tiny Orlando Pride jersey with her number on it and you grin.  

“Did you say thank you?”  

The little girl nuzzles into your neck and you smile softly, looking down at her, eyes glazed over as you look at her with nothing but love in your eyes.  

“Yes.” She whispers and you smile, leaning your head against hers.  

Christen, is practically swooning in the kitchen, her USWNT teammates watching the forward’s green orbs slowly morph into heart eyes.  

“You’re so smitten.” Tobin grins at her best friend who can’t take her eyes off of you.  

“She’s just so good to Anna...” Christen grins as you start dancing with the little girl in your arms, Sonnett and Kelley quick to join in, Annemarie giggling happily. 

“Do you want to go put on your new shirt?” You ask the little girl who nods.  

“Want me to come with you-

“NO!” She yells, making you jump, you’re and Christen’s eyes widen at the little outburst.  

“Is something wrong sweetie?” Christen asks as she makes her way over and the little girl glances away, fidgeting nervously.  

“Nooo...” She mumbles, and your brows arch.  

“Really?” You ask, teasingly and she huffs.  

“You can tell us...” Christen ruffles her hair and the little girl shakes her head.  

“I’m okay.” She mumbles and you hum, putting her on the floor.  

“Here, go put on your shirt.” You pat her back and the little girl nods, making a beeline for her bedroom.  

“What was that about?” Kelley asks with a snort and you shrug.  

“I have no idea.”  

                                                            ***

It’s later that night when you realize what the little girl had been so nervous about.  

“Anna are you-

You come to a halt eyes widening when you realize the little girl is fast asleep, a few of your hoodies in her tiny bed, one hugged tightly to her chest.  

Your bottom lip juts out in a pout as your eyes fill with tears.  

Christen’s brows furrow at the sound of your soft sniffles, the brunette rushing towards you before gently cupping your cheek.  

“What’s wrong?” She asks and you nod into the room, Christen smiling softly when she sees where all of your hoodies had gone.  

“Looks like we found the sweater thief...” She giggles and you nod, your heart swelling in your chest as the little girl hugs your sweater tighter.  

You tiptoe to the bed, the little girl still fast asleep as you lean down, pressing a kiss to her temple.  

“I love you so much sweetie.” You whisper and the little girl mumbles.

“I wove you too.”  

Christen watches with glassy eyes as you lean against the little girl, who holds your finger until she eventually falls deeper asleep.  

Christen swallows hard, tears streaming down her cheeks as you slowly move out of the room, when you see her crying your eyes widen.  

“Whoa, don’t cry.” You cup her cheeks, wiping her tears away.  

“I just love you guys so much.” She whispers and you smile, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose.  

“We love you too, so, so much.”  

                                                            ***

“Where are we going?” Annemarie jumps up and down as the two of you walk through the mall, you and Christen lifting her into the air between you and swinging her back and forth, the child giggling.  

“We’re going to buy Y/N some new sweaters.” Christen shrugs and the little girl’s eyes widen.  

“Oh...” She mumbles and the three of you stop, the little girl shuffling nervously from foot to foot.  

“What’s wrong love?” You kneel down in front of her and the little girl jumps in your arms, wrapping her tiny arms around your neck.  

“I stowe your shirts.” She mumbles into your chest and you smile.  

“I know.”  

Anna pulls back abruptly, Y/E/C orbs wide.  

“Reawwy?” She asks and you nod.  

“Why were you taking them?” Christen asks and the little girl hides her face in your chest.  

“Because I wuve Y/N, and those were her favowet shirts.” She mumbles into your chest and you grin, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.  

“Well... I want you to keep them and I need your help picking out new ones.” You grin and the little girl wiggles excitedly.  

“Reawwy!?” She squeaks and you nod.  

“Really.”  

                                                            ***

Later the same night Annemarie is again fast asleep, wearing one of your old faded hoodies while snuggling with another.  

You and Christen watch her sleep with soft smiles, your eye darting to the woman standing beside you.

“I love you guys.” You whisper and Christen grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“We love you too.”  

Your eyes dart from Annemarie, to Christen and back before your lips split into a grin.  

“I love you so much I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” You whisper and Christen’s green orbs widen.  

“Wha-What...?” She mumbles green orbs nearly bulging out of her skull when Annemarie jumps out of bed, seemingly not asleep before she runs over to Christen, holding a velvet box out to her mother.  

“I hewped pick it out!” She squeaks as you take the box and pull it open, the diamond ring sparkling as much as the woman’s green orbs that are full of tears. 

“So uhhh, you know I love you and Anna more than anything in this world, you’re the lights of my life and I’d do anything for either of you... I’ve been wanting to ask you this for so long and Anna and I ended up in the ring store and I just...” You clear your throat, cheeks flushing when you realize you’re rambling.  

“I want you to be my wife... I want to grow old together, I want to watch Anna grow. I want to be by your side through everything... So, will you Christen Annemarie Press, will you marry me?” You ask, Anna climbing on your back.  

“I awready said yes!” She giggles, holding a hand up to reveal a ring on her own finger, Christen giggling as she drops to her knees, wrapping her arms around the both of you.  

“Yes! Yes! A million times yes!” She cries, Anna squealing as she hugs the two of you as tightly as she can.  

Christen sniffles as you slip the ring on her finger, the woman cupping your cheeks as she leans in for a tender kiss, sniffling softly.  

You brush your nose playfully against hers, the woman laughing as she again presses a kiss to your lips.  

“I love you Y/N.” She whispers and you beam.  

“I love you too Chris, so, so much.”  

“Does that mean you're going to be my mama?” Annemarie asks as the two of you part, your bottom lip trembling as you look into Christen’s equally watery green orbs.  

She nods.  

“Yeah. Yeah it does.”  

                                                            ***

It’s later that night, your two favorite girls fast asleep in your arms that you realize how happy you are to not only be Christen Press’s fiancé, but Annemarie’s mama as well.  

[demonologistfucker]

WIP Angel MC! x Obey Me pt 2

Part Two - The Museum date with Satan. This is just a ruff of what I got so far. I am enjoying this but i Haven’t had a lot of focus for writing. So I just wanna share what I got so far.

Step into the shoes of an intellectual. I know they are uncomfortable, but these are cushioned with a bias outside human prejudice. They have their own prejudices of course, it’s just not As silly as a humans…. Either way, it’s a different way of looking at history. There is no need to keep colonial powers looking refined and noble.

This museum is not full of anything Real. They are all magical replicas of artifacts long burned, brutalized and forgotten. While it could be enlightening to a great deal of humanity. The plaques mainly speak of the demons who worked along with those doing the burning. It left a rather sick feeling in the angel’s stomach. While showing off the great wonder that was ruined. People still boasted about causing the burning. 

Satan did a better job explaining the history. He was detached. Thinking about the matter as a history, and could talk about it easily. Yet when he turned to MC. They had tears in their eyes. Thinking of what it felt like to just be a people, and slaughtered for living. The Angel felt the reality. Both marveling at the people who could create such art and monuments, and the utter despair at how this art came to the Angel’s eyes. So Eventually the Angel started to tune out the world around them, and focused more on their guide. A stranger who was still linked arms with MC. 

“I have a question,” MC looks up into Satan’s eyes. 

“I might have an answer,” The corner of Satan’s mouth pulled into a sharp smile.

“Do you view angels and demons as enemies?” MC watches Satan’s face closely. His eyebrows shot up for only a second. A brief flash of surprise, and then quickly to thought. His gaze drifting upwards as he rolled the matter over in his mind. 

“I think about this a lot, actually,” Satan rubs his chin. “I’m unsure. We are certainly told that we are opposites, but if we looked at the data, I think we’d find something else.” Satan chews on the thought, “There is a whole research of study on whether good even exists, yet there is a realm that claims to obtain All Good. Or define what it is. Which is just ridiculous, and as you can see.” Satan puts a hand on his chest. “Demons are not raging beasts. Sin has its place in reality. Too much of it would be disastrous, true, but not enough would also be a problem.” Satan kept his gaze away from the Angel. Not truly wanting to see them get upset about his stance. 

“Can you give me an example?” MC tilts their head. “No one’s talked about sin like that before.”

��Well… Let’s use wrath. Wrath being deemed a sin which is reasonable at first. Being angry and destructive is not helpful. However, wrath has been brought out to protect children, or to fight for justice. Wrath without thought is bad, but it is not bad in itself.” Satan glances at MC to see their expression. Then stays when he sees that MC is thinking it over. 

“What matters is how it’s used.” MC says softly. To which Satan nods. “There are plenty of supposedly holy people who are really cruel to keep their virtues.” Now both MC and Satan are sharing a smile. “Some of those people really are the worst. They manage to live up to His standards and yet are still-” MC grits their teeth. 

“Bastards? Fuckers?” Satan tries to keep a helpful face, but can’t help the corner of his mouth twitch up. 

“Yes!” MC shakes their head to let out some frustration. “Then they summon me to bring them to the bathhouse.” 

“You have to bring humans to bathhouses?”

“Where ever they want to go. It is their ‘paradise’ after all, and since I’m not a high ranking angel, so I’m basically supposed to care take for whatever human souls are around me.” 

“That sounds… Infuriating.” Satan says politely. He’s overjoyed to see the Angel seething with annoyance, but then something drowns it out. Their face falls and goes back to a placid expression. 

“It’s the duty of an angel.” MC’s voice is dryer than before. 

“Hmm…” Satan realizes he shouldn’t be staring at the Angel and looks back to whatever exhibit they had landed in front of. “Do you like your duties?”

“Do you like yours?” The Angel looks blankly ahead.

“Ours are very different. I simply Am the avatar. I can spend my days reading and be finishing my duty.”

“Really?” MC looks up in surprises. 

“Well, sorta of,” Satan chuckles. “I have RAD duties I can’t get out of, But that’s my choice in the end. I respect Diavolo enough to agree to his leadership, and RAD is his domain, so I do it for him.” Satan shrugs. “They don’t take up too much time for an immortal anyways.”

“That’s… so different from Heaven. I get maybe five hours to myself a day?” MC can’t even give an accurate number. Keeping track just makes it worse. “It’s all preselected work, too. We have no choice it what domains we’re put under.”

“No choice at all?”

“Supposedly it’s from the Divine plan,” MC rolls their eyes. “But I’m unsure of it.”

“No plan is ever perfect, let alone one made from one mind alone.” Even as Satan says this, he is prepared for a fight. His few conversations with angel’s before him had always ended in one. Angels devoted their existences to this divine plan. Critiquing it was a critique of everything they stood for. Instead, MC just nods. Their eyes overwhelmed in sadness. So Satan takes a deep breath and refocuses on the world around them. 

“It is amazing what humans are able to turn rocks into,” Satan looks at the old stone statue with amazement. 

“I’ve tried to do it before, and I can never manage.” MC tapped their chin as they reminisced. “They can make rock smooth, as if they were just pinching clay.”

“I can’t even work clay well.” Satan chuckles. Then there is silence as MC’s mind wanders down a bunny trail.

“Earlier they said that I would be attending school, is that true?” Satan nods. “Weird,” MC begins to laugh. 

“Why do you laugh? I will also be attending.” Satan says this even though he finds the whole school situation fairly fun himself. Still remembers the dinner when Lucifer broke the news that joining RAD also meant having to go through university again. They had completed their courses millennia ago. Satan was honestly a little excited. Brushing up his skills wouldn’t be the worst time. Though, all the other students sounded rather stressful.

“It will be curious. I didn’t expect to be introduced to Hell this way. It’s just… Okay, you’ll understand if I tell you how I imagine this, Exchange, would go in the Celestial realm.” Satan nods and leans back. Ready to listen. “Greeted with trumpets, obviously.” Satan rolls his eyes. “Then a personal conversation with It.” This makes Satan chuckle. “Then guided around the Celestial realm to all its numerous wonders. Shown the polished paradise where you can indulge in Nearly anything.” MC lifts a finger up with a crooked grin. “Though, you Can’t be a sinner, so you must be nice to Everyone you meet. No matter how annoying. If an Issue arises, you have to bring it up at court, and have it processed. It’s worse for angels, but guests wouldn’t see that. It would take months to see the court bit anyway. It would all be Sickly sweet.”

“And here you met a busy prince, told you had to go to school, and left to get eaten.” Satan keeps his head forward, but glances to see the angel’s reaction. 

“I’m enjoying it a lot.” MC smiles. 

“Not worried about your safety?” 

“Not Much,” MC Shrugs. “I don’t think I’ll be totally helpless,” Then MC looks to Satan’s face. Which seems to loudly be saying ‘okay, tell yourself that sweetheart’. “Do you think I should worry?”

“I think it was wise that you asked for a guide,” 

“Me to,” MC smiled, “I like your company.” MC pulls the hand they have clasped with Satan’s closer. For a moment, holding Satan against them. Letting their wing brush against his back. Then MC eases back. Failing to hide a blush that ran across their face. “ Just don’t imagine me helpless.”

“I could never.” Satan smiles softly. “I am the Avatar of wrath after all, and as I can tell.” He looks down at his open hand. Pretending to hold a board. “You have indulged in my sin at least six times.” A humorously low number for Satan. The average human indulged in it at least 50 times by their first birthday. That’s for a remarkably well tempered child, too. 

“That high?” MC winces, but then straightens their spines. Remember Why that had indulged, and feeling proud of that choice. 

“That is very low, and I think it would be good for your health to indulge in it a little more.”

    “Is this how you became friends with Alexander?”

“It’s how I became much more than friends, Dear.” Satan puts a hand on his chest. Looking utterly too proud of himself. MC grimace only deepened as they felt their face heat up. They are saved by an alert on Satan’s D.D.D. “I am afraid I have dinner soon. Your human roommate will be at purgatory hall for dinner, though. I can walk you back if you like?” Satan looks rather annoyed at his phone, but his face relaxes as he looks at MC. 

“That would be nice,” MC smiles and can feel the heat once again rise in their face and chest. “What on your D.D.D made you so upset?”

“Oh, you could see that?” Satan looks rather apologetic. 

“Clear as day, man,” MC has to try and not laugh. 

 “The message came from Lucifer,” Again he says the name with such disgust. MC wants to giggle. “He was reminded I must come to dinner and meet the new human.”

    “The face you just made,” MC has to put a hand over their mouth. Thankfully, they were almost out of the museum. But on the way on they got a couple glares from the Serious Observers. “What about this new human is so upsetting?”

    “Oh it’s not them,” Satan grimaces, but then straightens his spine. 

    “Then what is it?” 

“The process of picking was idiotic. It took four years for them to finally decided on what three humans to pick. The last one was completely random, it turns out.” Satan takes a deep breath. “I left the project after the first human was picked.”

“Who are they?”

“Solomon.” Satan says with a grimace. Left is a gentle way of putting what Satan did when Solomon was picked. The table was thrown through the wall and Satan marched out through the hole. 

“Who?”

“You don’t know? Oh, right… Angel wouldn’t hear about him, I guess.” Satan chews on his lip for a second. “He is an ancient king who managed to get pacts with 72 demons, and accidentally became immortal.” Satan’s has a great number of suspicions about Solomon. There are barely any humans who have One pact with a demon. Yet this human managed to get 72, and immortality. While also maintaining a beloved relationship with a great number of people. To Satan, this reeked of evil in hiding. “He’s also a super powerful wizard and has gone through the university magic program so many times he rewrote a portion of it.”

“So that’s who they picked to show off the magical prowess, huh?”

“It doesn’t even work,” Satan groans. Satan had sat through hours of meetings debating which humans to brings, and how their presence would affect the experience for Other humans in the trip. They fisted wanted a human who had some understanding of the magical to be a grounding force for the other two. Satan had many suggestions of Other magicians who could do a job. Magicians who did have 72 pacts with demons. One of whom being his younger Sibling. “We should have picked a human who could actually use the program. He was a powerful magician before coming to our school. He used it to have fun and meet people.“ 

“So he’s open to fun?” MC bounces slightly as they walk. 

“He can be… but he’s often looking out for himself first.” Since Satan so clearly distrusts Solomon. MC chooses to ignore this, and instead is excited to meet this weird wizard.

“Ah, prioritizing ones own needs. The gift of the ego… that we all have.” MC smirks. Feeling that MC was poking fun at Satan. He bristled and turned a lovely read. 

“It’s not just ego,” Satan huffs. “How could he make so many pacts without being devious?” 

“I don’t know,” MC shrugs. “Have you asked him?”

“No,” Satan looks aghast. “He’s a cunning being, I can’t just ask him.”

“I’ve heard cunning humans can be the most fun,” MC is now starting to walk back to campus with a little more speed. 

“Who would say that?” Satan looks bewildered at the little angel. 

“Simeon,” MC says, unbothered by Satan’s judgement. 

“He enjoys Lucifer’s company, I would not blindly trust Simeon’s taste.” Satan’s lip curls upward when he mentions Lucifer. MC thought on the matter. Simeon had given Lucifer a hug. When it was rather clear that Lucifer was Not a hugger. 

“Do you know if Simeon and Lucifer know each other? I’ve never heard Simeon talk about him, but it’s also frowned upon to talk about him in general.”

“I wouldn’t know, but Lucifer did spend the most time in heaven out of all of us,”

“Ah, who’s Us?”

“Oh my brothers,” Satan sighs, “They might know if Simeon and Lucifer have a history, but I won’t be asking for you.” 

“That’s fair,” MC nods. 

“Do they not talk about the revolution in the celestial realm?”

“Only brief mention. He doesn’t like it being brought up so… most just avoid the topic. I really don’t know much about it.”

“Hmm,” Satan frowns. He didn’t want to strike Lucifer’s ego, but what he did is important history. “I might have some history books you could borrow if you’d like.” It was strange being confronted with the Angel’s reality. Satan couldn’t imagine a life without living in the shadow of that revolution. His exists was born from its grief and agony, and this Angel knew of it only in passing. Did that mean they didn’t know his history at all? 

“Oh, that would be nice, but” The Angel blushes and closes their eyes.” I’m not the best of readers. My eyes get distracted?”

“I have heard of conditions similar to that,” Satan nods, “Well the topic is a heavy one, but if you wanted I could explain our side of the history some time.” They were now walking down the path to Purgatory hall. Satan felt is stomach dip at the thought of leaving. Next would be a dinner of more polite conversation. With the chance, he’d be living with two new assholes now. “If you wanted I could put my contact in your D.D.D. That way we can schedule, and If you need a guide again-” His words faltered as the blush becomes too hot. 

“I would like that very much.” MC Smiles and hands over their D.D.D.

“Oh-” Satan just finished it with a smile, and then takes the D.D.D. With thin fingers he types it all in. “I do have a schedule, so I can’t be your guide always but,” Satan looks into the Angel’s eyes, and feels his heart get stuck in his throat. “Don’t be afraid to ask.”

“I definitely won’t,” MC says, even though their heart was starting to race. MC stumbled as they hit the first steps up into Purgatory hall. “Thank you for taking me around.” MC’s wings flutter slightly, trying to dispel anxiety. “It was really nice getting to know you.”

“It was truly a pleasure,” Satan smiles, and then bows low to the Angel. As he rises, he keeps his eyes steady with MC’s gaze. There is a heartbeat where they are both caught staring at each other. Satan should be going home now, and the Angel should be heading inside. Instead, they both linger. Feeling their hearts surging in their chests, and wondering what they can possibly do about it. “I hope you enjoy your dinner,” Satan regrets the words instantly, but his feet are already moving to walk away. 

“You to!” The Angel blurts, feeling horribly awkward, but also thrilled. The nerves of wanting to make a good impression. As they watched the elegant blond walk away. MC could still feel excitement brewing within them. 

The feeling lingered as MC walked into the main doors of Purgatory Hall. Already they could feel that something was different within the building. A new presence shifted the home's energy. The air now had the smell of a laboratory. MC wandered down the hall till they reached the kitchen. Which is where they found Simeon, Luke, and a stranger gathered around the Oven. The Stranger was tall with bright white hair. The light in his eyes was unmistakably human, but something was off. 

“Are you certain it’s supposed to look like that?” Simeon squinted at the Oven. 

“I have never done this before,” The Strange says easily, but both Simeon and Luke look utterly terrified. 

“What’s going on?” MC asks as they walk behind Luke to get a view of what’s going on. “Why is it...cracked?”

“I believe that’s a part of the baking process,” The stranger smiles warmly and then extend a hand to MC. “My name’s Solomon, I am the human exchange student who will be living with you three.”

“I’m MC,” They take Solomon’s hand. His hand is surprisingly dense and cold. Heavier than the Angel had expected. “I thought there were three humans?”

“Indeed, but the other humans get to live with the brothers.” Solomon sighs. “I still don’t understand why they get to be close to the princes of Hell and not me.” Solomon actually did have a guess why, but he wanted to pout about it.

“Do you want to hear Lucifer and Mammon fighting with each other all the time?” Simeon chuckles.

“That’s a fair point,” Solomon nods. “Not to seem like I’m complaining about being with you three,” MC hadn’t even considered that Solomon might not be happy to be staying with three angels. Now though they had to think about it. A man with 72 pacts with demons might not have the most favorable opinion of angels. MC couldn’t exactly blame him for this, but hoped it wouldn’t get in their way. 

“I think our company is much better than those demons,” Luke tilts up his chin given everyone a good look of his nostrils. 

“Not better,” Simeon tuts, “we our own kind of fun, and will still have plenty of time with the brothers if we choose.” 

“You like them?” Solomon eyes Simeon. 

“Yes,” Simeon smiles genuinely. “I am really happy to see them again.” Solomon nods, and then smiles himself. 

“Me too,”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Play date with the Lans and Nies! Except it's Nie Mingjue training with little Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen painting with Nie Huaisang! Baby brothers getting crushes!!!! Adorable all around!!!!!

Lan Xichen had been told several times not to expect that things would be the same as they’d been the last time he’d visited Qinghe and the Unclean Realm.

It was unusual that he’d visited before at all, in fact; usually, the heirs to the Great Sects were raised very firmly in their own traditions before allowed to venture out to meet any others – often only in their teenage years, when they were wise enough to learn from others without losing the core of their ancestor’s teaching. But his uncle had been friends with old sect leader Nie, personal friends in addition to being allies, and so he’d had the chance to visit once before, a few years back.

He’d enjoyed that visit. 

He’d been very young, younger than Lan Wangji was now – sometimes he felt he was still younger than Lan Wangji, who was not quite nine years old but very solemn about it – but Nie Mingjue was very nice to him, showing him around and playing games with him very earnestly as if he hadn’t had any friends at all.

It didn’t feel at all like the older boy had been humoring him. They’d even gotten in trouble with their parents together, having tried to switch their baby brothers around so that old Nie would stop complaining about his child’s low vitality and Lan Xichen’s Uncle could have some peace and quiet from Lan Wangji’s very effective lungs at last.

Things would be different now, of course.

Lan Xichen was nearly thirteen years old, on the verge of adulthood (in the technical sense, anyway), but Nie Mingjue…

Nie Mingjue was already Sect Leader.

(It puzzled Lan Xichen a little, how someone he remembered as being only a few years older than him could have so quickly shot into the ranks of real adulthood – were there really six years between them? It didn’t seem possible, but then again, he had spent his childhood visit looking up at Nie Mingjue from a great distance...)

It was Nie Mingjue, not old Nie, who greeted them at the door, and who sat with Uncle in the study to drink tea and talk politics. And when he was done with that, he had to go and deal with sect business, first a table full of papers that Lan Xichen would never be allowed to look at and then a hall full of people asking questions and after that he had to lead saber training for the Nie sect disciples.

It wasn’t until right before bedtime in Gusu that Lan Xichen was able to find time to talk to his friend.

“You look tired,” he said, and Nie Mingjue smiled a little, nodding in agreement. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Nie Mingjue rubbed his eyes. “Can you spend some time with Huaisang tomorrow? I haven’t had as much time for him as I’d like, these past few days, and he’s only just barely started being able to handle being away from me for a few hours without going into a panic.”

“Certainly,” Lan Xichen said, and a beautiful idea appeared in his brain. “And I’ll send Wangji to you, of course.”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him.

“We did always say they’d make a good trade,” Lan Xichen said, and smiled when Nie Mingjue laughed.

-

The next morning, Lan Xichen told Lan Wangji that his duty for the day was to go and help Sect Leader Nie with whatever he needed, which Lan Wangji accepted with a deep, solemn nod that suggested he was preparing to go to war.

“It won’t be that bad,” Lan Xichen coaxed. “It’s only Mingjue-xiong. Don’t you remember when he came to visit Gusu a few years back? You sparred with him a few times, and later –”

Lan Wangji’s ears abruptly turned bright red and he shook his head furiously to forestall any further commentary. Lan Xichen pressed his lips together to keep from laughing; Lan Wangji had had the most adorable crush on Nie Mingjue in those days.

“You know,” Lan Xichen said innocently, “given that it’s morning, I think you’ll probably find Mingjue-xiong at the training grounds…”

Lan Wangji was gone faster than the wind.

Still chuckling, Lan Xichen went to go find his own charge. Nie Huaisang had been sick with allergies during part of their visit to Gusu, staying inside so he wouldn’t make them worse, so Lan Xichen hadn’t had much of an impression of him – he remembered a little dumpling, a round face with a vivacious smile and an awful lot of giggling, a sunny contrast to Lan Wangji’s natural seriousness.

The shy, skinny child that flinched away from him and hid his face away behind a fan wasn’t anything like the child he’d remembered.

Nie Mingjue had said something about Nie Huaisang having developed a tendency to have brief attacks of heightened panic, Lan Xichen remembered, which were worsened if he couldn’t lay eyes on his elder brother for any extended period of time. He must be afraid of losing his brother the way he’d lost his father, which Lan Xichen could understand – the painful memory of being told his mother wasn’t there anymore still stung bitterly anytime he let himself think too much about it, and it’d been years, not months.

(Nie Mingjue’s visit had been the only thing that had managed to lift Lan Wangji’s gloom after the death of their mother, and Lan Xichen would be forever indebted to him for that. Even if he’d never tell him the exact reason – Lan Wangji would immediately expire out of sheer embarrassment if he ever did.)

“I’m going to be spending time with you today,” Lan Xichen announced, and Nie Huaisang looked more resigned than anything else, turning his head gloomily to look at where his saber was sitting in its proper place. “How do you feel about painting?”

Nie Huaisang paused and very slowly turned his head back to look at Lan Xichen suspiciously. “…real painting?”

“With ink and colors and everything,” Lan Xichen promised. He knew that Qinghe Nie tended to believe that physical exercise was a good antidote to grief, but he’d personally found that art worked better for him as an escape – maybe the same would be true for Nie Huaisang. “We can go paint some landscapes. Or maybe we can see if we can find any birds?”

There were a lot of birds in Qinghe, and all different types, too. It was as if every time Lan Xichen turned his head, there was a new explosion of feathers in some new configuration.

“I like birds,” Nie Huaisang murmured, his voice very soft.

“We’ll keep an eye out for any we see, then,” Lan Xichen said enthusiastically. “If we can catch one, I’ll convinced your brother to let you keep it.”

Nie Huaisang’s face brightened, and Lan Xichen was sure it wouldn’t be hard to convince Nie Mingjue to let his brother keep a few animals, not if he could see that smile. “Really? I can keep one at home?”

“Really.”

“It’s safe now?” Nie Huaisang asked, hopping off the bed to go put his hand in Lan Xichen’s.

Lan Xichen thought that was an odd question, but nodded again. “We’ll buy a nice bronze cage in the market,” he said, thinking that Nie Huaisang might be worried about cats or something – another notable feature of Qinghe. Stray cats everywhere. “That’ll keep it safe.”

“Steel is better,” Nie Huaisang said as Lan Xichen led him out. “Bronze will bend if a fist hits it hard enough; it won’t protect whatever’s inside.”

“Steel it is, then,” Lan Xichen said. He’d only thought that bronze would match the décor of Nie Huaisang’s bedroom; steel would clash and ruin the feng shui. “Maybe plated in bronze?”

“That works!”

-

“I’m a Sect Leader now,” Nie Mingjue told Lan Wangji, who was standing at attention better than some of the adult Nie sect disciples. “What I need right now are good lieutenants. Are you capable?”

Lan Wangji nodded firmly.

“It won’t be that interesting,” Nie Mingjue warned him. “If you think you’ll get bored and want to wander off –”

“I won’t,” Lan Wangji said, and there was a note of determination and pride in his voice that made Nie Mingjue want to pick him up with one arm and give him a hug the way he’d done in the past.

He didn’t, of course. For one thing, it’d be beneath his dignity as a Sect Leader to so causally embrace a child from another sect – or anyone, for that matter; for another, Lan Wangji had always had a great deal of pride for a child, and Nie Mingjue had long ago figured out that the best way to deal with pride was to offer respect where it was due.

“Very well then,” Nie Mingjue said. “I will count on you.”

Lan Wangji lifted his head and clenched his fists, his eyes shining, and his expression only became more and more happy (in that barely-noticeable way he had) when he realized Nie Mingjue was giving him tasks that actually needed doing, rather than merely filling the time to entertain him.

Nie Mingjue wouldn’t have done the latter regardless – he’d always disdained the idea of condescending to a child like that – but as a matter of fact he did need the help: someone to write things down as he made decisions, to survey things and report back to him what he saw, to arrange that he would have fresh ink before he noticed he was out, to put signatures on things that needed to be signed once Nie Mingjue had approved the idea, to inconspicuously serve tea during important political discussions while keeping enough of an ear out to be able to remind Nie Mingjue of everything that had been discussed later…

His advisers were right; he really did need a deputy. Possibly several of them, if he couldn’t find one competent enough to serve alone.

“Wangji,” he said towards the end of the day, and Lan Wangji looked up at him from where he was faithfully copying out one of the letters that needed to go out before the end of the day. He was barely tall enough to sit properly at the table, but his calligraphy was perfect. “You helped me a great deal today. Well done.”

Lan Wangji nodded and looked back down to finish off the letter, only the redness of his ears revealing his embarrassment.

They went down to the entrance to meet Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, who were returning from their outing for the day – Nie Huaisang was clutching a giant bird cage covered in a cloth, with a smile that almost looked like the one from last year, from before, and Lan Xichen had paint splattered on his face and white clothing.

“Do I want to know?” he asked Lan Xichen dryly as he gestured for the two children to greet each other, but Lan Xichen only laughed.

“I promised him he could keep whatever we found,” he said with a smile. “Also, Huaisang has some paintings he wants to show you. If you like them, you might consider hanging one up in your office.”

He will hang them all up no matter how ugly they are, Nie Mingjue decides immediately. He doesn’t say that out loud, merely nods and says, “We’ll see, then.”

“How was Wangji?” Lan Xichen asked. “He didn’t bother you, did he?”

“Don’t be absurd, Wangji’s a good boy,” Nie Mingjue said. “And an excellent deputy. If he wasn’t your brother, I’d try to steal him away from you.”

“He might like that,” Lan Xichen said, looking at Lan Wangji fondly. “Maybe when he’s a little older, I can send him here for a season, to improve his cultivation –”

Lan Wangji didn’t do anything as crass as nod furiously, but his expression showed distinct signs of interest; he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to Nie Huaisang, who was rambling into his ear.

“And perhaps I’ll send Huaisang to the Cloud Recesses for your uncle’s teaching,” Nie Mingjue replied, mildly hopeful – it was out of the question right now, with Nie Huaisang only sleeping through the night half the days in the week and never when he was on his own, but it would be nice, in the future. He thought that his younger brother would enjoy the serenity of Gusu.

“– and then we caught a bird, look!” Nie Huaisang concluded, pulling the cover off the birdcage.

Nie Mingjue glanced over, then did a double-take and stared.

“Xichen,” he said, with admirable restraint. “Did you actually promise that my brother would be allowed to keep a vicious flesh-eating hawk?”

“There’s no way a hawk is that small,” Lan Xichen said. After a second of observing Nie Mingjue’s face, he added, a little weakly, “…right?”

[wolfish-trickster]

Advent kisses

11/24

Word count: 1 342 (the longest I've ever written, probably won't make future parts this long)

Summary: Instead of chocolates, kisses are going to be recieved everyday until Christmas.

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @modestlyabsurd @winterfrostsarmy @spaceyempress @thefridgeismybestie @laramoonworld @birdgirl90

A/N: this part contains reader's hair being braided, if your hair isn't long enough to be braided, imagine Loki made your hair temporary longer with magic.

Last night was hard. Old memmories swam to surface, tears were shed. That night he dreamt of his mother. They were by the lake in the forrest. How she listened to him talking about you. How she gave him relationship advice. How she met you. How the three of you laughed.

His chest hurt when he woke up from that beautiful lie his mind made up. A reality that will forever be his dream.

-

As it turned out, all of the Avengers were busy as hell. Either by going out and buying gifts, or by hanging out in their rooms and just 'chilling'.

He made himself tea in the kitchen and went to library. You weren't there. But that was okay. He wanted to be alone for a little while. He didn't pick any book to occupy him. He just wandered around, feeling backs of the books with the tips of his fingers. Inhaling the scent of old books. Checking out the secret parts hidden in the shaddows. Library in Asgard is much much bigger, but he had to work with what he got.

Eventually he got bored and walked out. The sharp light blinded him momentarily. He never realized how dark it is in library until now. Sadness really makes you notice those little details.

His mind switched to autopilot. He had no idea where his legs were taking him, and honestly, he didn't care.

After minutes of walking he found himself in gym. With Thor. He was stretching after a hard work out session. Thankfully Thor had his back towards him, which gave Loki enough time to tirn around and hide. He really didn't have the mood to listen about Jane Foster's awesomness again.

"Brother, wait!" this close. Loki was this close to be out of the gym and yet, fate just HAD TO turn Thor around and spot him.

"I'm in no mood for whatever you want to tell me," Loki felt giant heavy hand land on his shoulder.

"Loki, Y/N told me about yesterday," Loki didn't know how to react. How to feel. She promised it will be their little secret. How could she?

Apparently he had a face of betrayal and Thor noticed. "Wait, no she didn- ahm. Let me rephrase. In the morning she looked a little off. I asked her what happened and she said it's a secret and she can't tell me. She only told me you showed her your sketches. I figured out the rest," Thor hugged him, to Loki's surprise."I miss her too."

Loki didn't like to look weak, especially in front of oh perfect golden Thor. But he made an exception. Before he got too comfortable he pushed his brother away. "Before you continue, take a shower first," Thor chuckled and pat him on the shoulder. Both knew Loki didn't mean it.

The trickster in him woke up and got an idea.

He was on his way to your room. Hopefully you'll be there. And you were. Along with Bruce. You were sitting criss-cross on your fluffy carpet. Both pairs of eyes shot towards him. Your smile froze upon seeing his angry face. "You lied to me," he snarled.

"I-I d-don't know wh-" "You told Thor. Thor told Tony, Tony told Natasha and so on. How could you?" he was probably cruel, but the confusion on your face was beyond hilarious.

"Loki, what are yo-" "Silence Banner," even without raising his voice he sounded scary.

"I-I... I-"

"How could you tell everyone I can draw?"

"W-what?"

"Wait, Loki can draw?"

The angry facade broke and Loki started laughing. Your and Banner's faces were priceless. Both of you looked like confused puppies.

"I'm so sorry for scaring you. I just wanted to cheer myself up, and how better than with a little prank?"

Bruce stood up. "Don't do that again. I realy thought you're gonna rip our heads of."

"Look who's talking. By the way, what were you doing here? With Y/N?" nope, he wasn't jealous, no way.

"I needed her advice. I'm not stealing her from you," and with that he disappeared sooner than Loki could even think of a sarcastic comeback.

"Advice with what?" he asked as he sat down beside you.

"Can't tell you, it's a secret. And Bruce is right, don't scare me like that again."

"Hehe, don't worry, I don't plan to. Hey, you've been practicing," he noticed papers spread around with various sketches of faces.

"Yeah, they're really bad," you scratched your head.

"Darling, it's only matter of practice. No one was born with a complete skill. They had to work for it. Why don't you draw someone. Right now. I could teach you as you go."

"Okay," Loki passed you a clear paper and moved to sit on your bed, gently pulling you between his knees. "W-what are you doing?"

"I want to braid your hair darling. Just like you braided mine. Besides I have a much better view from up here."

He let his hand glide through through your hair. It was so soft.

"Hey, who should I draw?"

"Doesn't matter darling," he split your hair into three strands and started working. Left to the center. Right to the center. And so on.

He glanced down at your paper from time to time. You finished basic sketch and started to work on details. It was quite hard to deduce who you drew. Sharp cheekbones, strong jawline, wise looking eyes. A family member perhaps?

He was enjoying how you let your head fall on his thigh. He closed his eyes. His fingers got lost in your hair, he couldn't care less if he messed up your braids.

He heard your soft giggle and could practically hear you pout. "You're not even looking. How are you supposed to teach me something?"

"Apologies darling, I find your presence deeply comforting and couldn't help but close my eyes and relax. So it's basically your fault I'm not paying attention," he opened his eyes and teasingly booped your nose.

"Well, professor Loki, teacher of fine arts, I'm finished. Grade me," you handed him your drawing.

You drew him. His cheekbones weren't that sharp and the drawing's eyes were a little out of place, but besides that it was beautiful. You were trying so hard, you put maximum effort into your creation and it showed.

"There are few mistakes here and there, but besides that it's great. Now, do tell," he grabbed you by your waist and sat you on one of his thighs, "why did you choose to draw me?"

"What makes you think I drew you?"

Loki's smile faded a little. "Who else would have such god-like long dark hair?"

You didn't bat an eye as you said: "Hozier."

"......who?"

You burst out laughing. "Just kidding Loki, of course it's you. I can't believe it! I pranked the king of pranks!"

Loki had the biggest heart eyes ever as he joined your laugh. There is nothing greater for Loki than love for pranks, which you shared. This fact made Loki even more desperate to win your heart by the end of the 'advent time'.

He got hold of your non-bandaged hand. "That you did darling. Be proud, not many can claim the 'pranked the god of pranks' title," he lifted your wrist to his lips and tasted the skin over your pulse in a loving kiss, "and still be alive to tell the story," he finished with a mischevious wink.

You blushed and playfully shoved punched him in the chest. "Loki! You can't say things like that!"

"Why not? I have a reputation to maintain, I can't risk having another trouble maker in my territory," 'outside of our future children.'

"Hey, I know this is completely out of the blue question, but what was your first prank?"

He hugged your waist and pulled you closer to him. You were in for a long night of talking and laughing. Loki was glad he didn't stay alone like he planned to.