#buy her more materials for blowing things up if she comes back home

[manicpixiejinxgirl]

Anyone who makes a modern au of Arcane that doesn't include a freshly out of jail young adult Vi and a long suffering totally not shady businessman Silco having split custody of a pissy teen Jinx who constantly pits her guardians against eachother to get exactly what she wants is doing it incorrectly

[igotanidea]

Truth: Dick Grayson x spy!reader

Summary/request: Dick Grayson X Spy Girlfriend. Dick reveals his secret identity to her first and she decides to confess too.

***

„Where are you?”

„Dick”

 “Where the hell are you?!”

„Grayson!”

 “I swear I’ll kil you”

“Answer me damn it.”

“Dick…”

“Come on, please….”

“I’m worried.”

“Just come home….”

Well shit.

Y/N was blowing up his phone for the last couple hours and he was feeling more and more guilty by every passing second. Of course, he didn’t blame her for being distressed with his absence. After all in was something around 2 a.m., and to tell the whole truth he was actually a bit cocky because of that little care display even if she did threaten him at the beginning.

However, there were a few problems with that state of fact.

First. Why was she up at this time. Was it possible that she had trouble sleeping or had a nightmare and needed him to hold her and touch her and reassure her? Just a thought of that was breaking his heart.

Second, he had been currently in the middle of patrolling west side of Gotham, catching the trail of another villain he was tracing for the last couple of weeks, and no matter how much he wanted to, couldn’t just ditch it, even though his heart was telling him to run to her.

And third.

She had no idea.

Yeah, he didn’t tell her he was Nightwing. Honestly, he was avoiding that subject like a plague, and every time she came as close as mentioning the name of a Bludhaven/ Gotham blue vigilante he was shutting her up with kisses.

And with her big brain, Y/N figured out his Pavlovian reaction in no time and started using it for her advantage whenever she was feeling needy for something more than just sweet words. God, she had him wrapped around her little finger. Honestly, Dick couldn’t imagine being without her.

And keeping his secret identity a - well- a secret, was both an argument for making sure she won’t leave him and a constant stressor she will leave him when if she finds out.

Damn it. He was torn.

It’s been a year of them being together. Maybe it was time to let the cat out of the bag?

Even though Dick was lost inside his head the fact that his target was now on the run did not pass him. He just jumped off the roof, immediately getting to action, getting done with the thug in less then five minutes.

As he was waiting for the police to arrive, walking in circles he made a decision.  

Since she didn’t tell him her secret first, he was going to be the one to take the action.

***

 Little did he know that Y/N was texting him not only because she was worried, but also because she was currently stuck in her spy costume in the middle of the bedroom, unable to pull the stupid zipper up or down. Obviously she couldn’t let him see that, and by those texts was just trying to test the waters, and hopefully, buy herself some time.

Of course she was concerned every time he has been sneaking out on patrol dressed in blue, thinking she was asleep. But she also knew Nightwing skills and abilities (back when they were still friends and not a couple Nightwing was her mission. Once he found out the identity of the vigilante she refused to reveal it to her contemporary boss, hence the scar on her lower abdomen***).

Funny thing that Dick though her gullible and naive enough to not notice him leaving the apartment every night. But on the other hand it was good, cause if he were to find out she knew, he would also realize she was not just the calm, caring girlfriend, but also a killer agent

But seriously, as long as she was in that suit of hers there was still a risk of being exposed.

„Shit!” she pulled at the material, but stupid Kevlar refused to cooperate, clinging to her body like a second skin. „I swear every time they upgrade this freaking outfit it gets worse!” she muttered to herself, pulling the zipper, almost falling to the ground at the unsuccessful attempt to free herself. Seriously! Why couldn’t her designers get inspired by Flash ring or something simple that would just go poof and you’ll be dressed. Or create something like doctor Strange’s cape. Or- scratch the magic and metahumans- Iron Man’s suit. For crying out loud it was XXI century,you could’t  just expect people to find a phone booth every time you need to get to action!

She was cursing under her nose, laying on her back on the bed, lights on, struggling against the costume when the unmistakable sound of opening the window reached her ears making her freeze at the spot.

Holy shit!

Holy fucking shit!

Dick was back!? Why the hell?! It was barely 2.30! He never finished before 4 a.m! 3 if it was an extremely quiet night!

Shit! Oh shit!

„Ok, Y/N. Focus. Think like an agent. Cold blood. Even breath. Clear mind. What can you do?” she though to herself. Obviously, there was not a single chance she could loose the suit so she did the only thing that came to her brain.

***

Dick almost got a heart attack upon noticing the light on in the bedroom. Unfortunately that room was situated on the east side of the building and Dick was coming back using the west window. Yeah, the architect probably didn’t think about the vigilantes wrapping up their patrols while making blueprint, what an oversight!

He made a mental note to himself to pay a visit to the poor man or woman who committed such a rookie mistake, but for now he had bigger problems. If the lamp was turned on, that probably meant she was awake. And if she was awake, she probably hear that stupid screetching window (another thing to discuss with the architect and constructors). And that could mean one of two things:

She would come to the main room, thinking it might be him, and see him in Nightwing suit, or

She would come to the main room, thinking it’s a thug, carrying her baseball bat for protection and see him in his Nightwing suit.

Same impasse.

So he did the only thing that came to his brain.

***

„Why are you in your underwear?!”

„Why are you in towel!?”

Let’s go back in time a few minutes.

While she rushed to the bathroom, grabbing one of her cutting gadgets hidden on the top shelf, ripping the suit, spraying herself with water and wrapping up in the towel, Dick took off his costume, settling on going almost full commando rather than risking exposure. Two people, two very bad and completely irrational decisions.  

„I was taking  a shower!”

„at 2.30?!”

„what the hell were you doing?! there’s blood on your chest!”

„Made you look.” Dick grinned, unable to stop the teasing and smirking.

„Are you freaking serious?!”

„Don;t change the subject!”

„I’m not changing anything!”

„Great, then I’m just gonna take a quick shower myself and we can go back to sleep.” he shrugged casually trying to walk past her acting like nothing weird was happening, his initial idea of talking to her about his vigilante life suddenly evaporating.

She froze. And then her blood boiled and hands started shaking. There was no way she was going to let him in, with the scraps of the elastic material splattered all over the bathroom floor. He would recognize the type of it immediately, seeing as it was commonly used among both vigilantes and spies.

„You can’t go in there.” she blocked his way, crossing arms over her chest.

„Oh?” he raised an eyebrow and smirked. „And why is that?”

„cause I disinfected the shower and you need to wait for the chemicals to volatilize.”

„What-?” he stuttered, both shocked and unconvinced.

„Yes. Absolutely.” It was hard to say whether she was trying to convince Dick or rather herself. „It’s detrimental for your health. You have to wait. Can’t risk you going down because of descaler or something like that.”

„What kind of cleaners are you using, exactly?” he faltered again, getting a bit worried about her.

Fingerprints remover, bleach, some explosive chemicals, caustic agents....

„Only the best!” she grinned nervously, grabbing his arms and guiding him away from the bathroom, forcing to sit on the bed. „Can’t save on hygiene, right?”

„I guess--” he started, but knowing she’s getting some of her position back, she did not let him finish.

„Sh. Not a word. You are hurt. How about I patch you up, huh?”

„Oh-okay....” Dick muttered, only after a second realizing that the first aid kit was in the living room. In that one drawer where he stuck his suit while panicking about getting exposed. „Uh- um- Y/N, baby... you know, on second thought it’s not that bad..... I mean - I mean look- it already curdled and it is just a scratch -- no need to make a fuss about it, um-”

„Don’t be silly, Dick. Just let me help you, okay?” she took a few steps forward, ready to get the kit, when he jumped out of bed, grabbed her hand and kissed her. (did I mention Pavlovian reaction)

Obviously, at first she melted into him, instantly pulling herself closer, kissing him back with utmost love. In her defence, she was already agitated and scared of her spy life getting revealed and the adrenaline running in her veins did the job. As well as for Dick when his hands moved to her waist, rubbing her sides and hips, getting lost in her.

It lasted for a while before she pulled back gasping softly. That kind of kiss was way to familiar. Under normal circumstances their making out sessions was either sweet and gentle or passionate and urgent. No in-between.

But this? This was the same kind of first base as every time she mentioned Nightwing. So given that and the fact he didn’t want her to go to the living room he must have been hiding somewhere there.

Poor Dick.

So desperate, not knowing she knew he was Nightwing and trying to cover it up. And she was going to keep him in that unawareness just a little bit longer. Just to tease. And maybe also  to dispel any suspicions he might have already had about her.

„Oh, Dick, baby, I want to patch you up. Don’t be a stubborn ass. I am your girlfriend. It’s my duty to help you out.” she wriggled out of his embrace, taking another step towards the living room.

„And as your boyfriend I am telling you I can handle myself and I;d hate you to worry.” he took a step towards the bathroom as some sort of counter-threat.

„I’m gonna worry either way until you let me heal you...” she moved another inch, standing on the threshold between two rooms.

„You can heal me in some other way, baby...” he repeated the motion, almost reaching for the bathroom dorknob.

„Dick...” she almost hissed at him, her throat clenching. God damn it!

„Y/N...” he gasped, his eyes scanning her every movement.

Such a war of nerves they were waging against one another, believing they were so smart, playing the other and having the other where they wanted to do. But it was not a chess game and there was no predicting how the other would act while- well- endangered. So, at the moment, Y/N and Dick were just standing in front of each other, mindful of every move, the tension between them palpable and unbearable. Tensed muscles were ready to react, every instinct on high alert, senses sharpened, breath fastened.

In some other circumstanced they would probably end up having the most passionate night of love, but not this time.

She took another step back and before he could react rushed to the living room, trying to reach that stupid drawer where he hid the evidence of his nightlife.

„DAMMIT Y/N!”he made after her a second later, grabbing her from the back, almost peeling the towel off in the process.

„Let me go!” she started kicking and squirming trying to break free as he lifted her off the ground. „I’m gonna neutralize you! I’ll go full black widow on you!”

„Black widow, huh? Is there something you want to tell me, baby?”

„Put me down Grayson!” she struggled even more, cursing herself for not being able to really act on her words. Not with him. Not with her boyfriend.

„Y/N!”

„Put me down!!”

„Y/N!!”

„What?!”

„I need to tell you something!”

„THEN JUST FREAKING SAY IT!”

„NOT BEFORE YOU CALM DOWN!”

„STOP YELLING AT ME!” she shouted

„YOU STARTED IT!”

„I’M A WOMAN! I GET TO START FIGHTS OUT OF NOTHING! AND YOU’RE THE MAN SUPPOSED TO TAKE MY SHIT-! Whoops--” her eyes grew wide at the realization she might have gone to far. Seemingly he though the same cause his grip on her loosened and he put her on the ground. „I’m sorry, Dick - I- I didn’t mean that-” she whispered „please, don;t be mad at me- I love you....”

And that was it. She said those three magic words he knew was true and it was just impossible to lie to her anymore.

„I love you too. And I’m Nightwing.” he sighed, closing his eyes, ready for shocked expression, wide eyes, open mouth and confused stuttering. And he was going to take the repercussions of not telling her earlier. Her anger, her disappointment, the feeling of being deceived.

But nothing like this happened and after a moment of prolonging silence he dared to open one eye, taking on such a funny look that she couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle.

„Hey!” he clearly took offence „why are you laughing at me?! Wait--’  finally it hit him „why are you laughing? Why are you not mad?”

„Do you want me to be mad?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, truly waiting for his response

„God, no! Last time you were, you didn’t let me-- not the point.” Dick shook his head „Did you hear what I just said?”

„You’re Nightwing.”

„I’m Nigh---. Wait - why are you so calm about it? I kept it a secret from you for so long and--”

„Dick.”

„I lied to you to put it bluntly. I’ve been out fighting crime, acting like a hero, who I am, handsome and brave and skillful but still putting my life in danger and ---”

„Dick!”

„Did you know I got the title of the hottest vigilante in --”

„DICK!!”

„But I still think that--”

„Stop talking! I knew!!”

„you what?”

„I knew you were Nightwing! I figured it out a while ago, but tried to play fair and give you a chance to come clean with me.”

„YOU KNEW!?”

„Yeah.... I’m not stupid, okay? And-- and I;m not mad or offended or anything like that. I get that it’s a part of who you are so no worries about me asking you to stop or whatever else.”

„You are surprisingly understanding” he muttered „Babe?”

„Hmmmm?”  

„why are you so cool about it?”

„Ok...um--” she brushed her hair out of her forehead nervously „please don’t freak out, ok?” she looked into his eyes for a second before staring at the floor „I-um-... I’m a spy...”

 „Like James Bond?” he grinned „I was always a fan of the classic but if you prefer Daniel--”

„DICK!!”

„What?” he scoffed „you’re a spy, I know. I-- well, I might have known for a while now.”

„You did?” she frowned. „damn, it’s not like it kills my confidence in my skills....” she rolled her eyes.

„Well it does add to my confidence in mine” he laughed wholeheartedly and regardless of her irritation she did crack a smile.

„I hate you and your stupid sense of humor.”

„so why are you laughing with me baby?”

„I’m laughing at how annoying you are”

„Come on, I’m forgiving you for keeping things from me...” he grabbed her waist pulling her into his chest and hugging closely. „Can I see that sexy spandex suit of yours now?” he whispered into her ear.

„Hmmm. I might be in need of a new one, cause I kind of the destroyed it--”

„Don’t worry baby, I can work with the lack of it too....”

Oh, boy....

No sleep for the wicked that night.  

[bumpkinspice0]

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: explicit (MINORS DNI!!!!!)

Word Count: 5285

Summary: There's a massive breach to Spider Tower, Miguel needs the help of the entire spiderverse to contain it.

Warnings:  Previous traumatic accident (Wound and pain from such but nothing too descriptive), I don't know how healing works it's the future shut up, angst, pining, protective!Miguel SMUT! Sexy shower time, fingering, praise kink, kinda body worship, Miguel takes GOOD care of you, don't look at me

A/N: Sorry this took longer to update than usual, life really started lifin' there. Also I didn't know how to write the shift in relationship dynamic good so you'll gotta deal with that too. ENJOY

Previous. Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 10

Let Me Take Care of You

You drift lazily on the waves of consciousness for what felt like hours, your eye’s only forming blurry images as you attempt to force yourself to wake up. The smell is the first thing you notice. Fresh, clean linens and something else you recognize but can’t put your finger on. It wasn’t quite sterile , like a hospital, but not completely welcoming like a home either. When you finally burst fully from the veil of sleep, it’s a room you’ve never seen before. Smooth and sleek futuristic architecture like the tower. All accented in crisp white and grays, almost no color— but it’s not a hospital room like you suspected. You’d been to the infirmary in the tower a handful of times, and this wasn’t it

It takes all your effort to simply turn your head to the side, and there on the nightstand is your answer. A framed photograph of Miguel and Gabe. They look younger than you know them. Maybe ten years ago. This was his room.

You were in Miguel's house.

You take another deep breath, bringing the sheets to your nose and finally recognize his scent amongst the clean white linens— like rich red wine. The smell of Miguel. 

Why on earth were you here? You move to roll out of the massive bed, but a sharp pain in your side stops you. And in your shoulder— and your head— pretty much all of you. 

You look down at your hands for the first time and see several bandages scattered up your arms. You had a particularly big one you recognized on your hand— you’d had an IV in at some point. Your clunky multiverse watch had been replaced with a day pass. Your suit had been replace with a cotton tee and shorts.

Ever so slowly you come up to a seated position. The worst pain was coming from your right side. You lift your plain gray cotton shirt to reveal more bandages wrapped around your abdomen and several ugly purple bruises peeking out from beneath. 

“What the hell happened?” you whisper to yourself.

“You got blown up,” a familiar cheeky voice informs you. Lyla materializes at the end of the bed. She’s not a small little hovering woman though. She’s a full-sized person. You never seen her appear larger than a soda can and now she looked like you could practically touch her. “Well, the nanotech took most of the blow. You’re lucky.”

“Nanotech? The suit?” You run your hand over your face, feeling a few other bandaids taped down. One on your eyebrow and another on the cheek. Was there any part of you that wasn’t hurt?

You squeeze your eye’s shut trying to recall anything. There was a fight— I big one. You were called into the tower. It was a blur but you know you made it out. You remember laughing with Jess and Gwen afterward. You’d won. You even found Miguel afterward and he told you to… ah, there it was. Some freak explosion from the rubble by his room. Wrong place at the wrong time. This was gonna be embarrassing to come back from.

Any normal person would be in shock right now. You hadn’t been a normal person for nearly a decade. If you had a dime for every near-death experience you’d had since starting this job, you’d be able to buy the entirety of New York City. This wasn’t your first time waking up bruised and battered and it certainly won’t be the last.  

All in all, not the worst you’d been banged up on the job, but still not great it landed you bedridden for god knows how long. You felt sluggish and tired but knew if you didn’t try to move around at least a little, you’d regret it later. Get the blood pumping, that always helped.

You’d really been in this situation too many times.

You slowly move the edge of the bed again. Lyla glitches in front of you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, where do you think you’re going?” She places her hands on her hips. 

“To get some water. I’m thirsty,” You shakily stand and walk right through her pixelated form. Your legs might as well be jello but you make it work. 

“This is a fully automated house!” She forms back in front of you when you're just at the door, “I’ll get you the water.”

“I’m a big girl, I can get my own drink,” You sigh and walk/ limp through her again.

“Oh! You just wanna snoop!” she accuses.

Ah, she got you. Yeah, you wanted to move a little, yes, but this was a rare opportunity you weren’t going to pass up. You were in his house. His house! Alone!

“And so what if I do?”

She raises her hands in defeat. “Hey, I’m not stopping ya then.” 

You slide the foggy glass door out of the way and leave Miguel’s bedroom. You walk out onto a lofted balcony overlooking the rest of his home. It matched the bedroom with its sleek white glossy and gray tones— and it was massive. Twenty-foot ceilings, Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the far wall, overlooking the city. Wherever you were, you were very high up. A modest living room sat in the center with sleek charcoal furniture. The floors were a glossy deep black. The second-floor balcony lined the entirety of the living space, with several doors and hallways leading to other parts of the house along its path. You make your way across the second level and down the sleek glass stairs— gripping the railing for dear life. 

“How long was I out?” You ask Lyla, noticing the weakness in your legs again.

“Three days,” She answers, glitching to the bottom of the stairs. “You were in the infirmary until the swelling went down then the big guy brought you here.”

“What swelling?” You ask, almost afraid of the answer.

“In your brain. Minor. Should be fine now with all the drugs and advanced healing,” She says so nonchalantly it almost puts you at ease— almost.

Sounds like you had a concussion. Awesome. That explains the pulsing headache that was on the rise and your less-than-stellar vision. Your advanced healing can only do so much. You have brain fog to look forward to for the next 2 weeks. Even more awesome, “Might wanna take a week off after this.”

You made it to the bottom floor, spotting the kitchen underneath the stairs. It was sleek and clean like the rest of the house.

“Me? Take a week off? Nah, I’m unstoppable.” You joke as you round the kitchen island with the speed of a tortoise. A cabinet automatically opens for you, revealing the glasses. You grab one and fill it up at the sink. You chug the liquid down in a very unladylike way, immediately refilling the glass. Damn, you were actually extremely thirsty.

“Miggy’s gonna force you to take a month off with the way he’s been hovering over you.”

Your cheeks instantly heat up at her casual statement. She takes notice, a smirk pulling at her pixelated mouth. 

“Where is Miguel?” You ask sheepishly. 

“Called into the tower,” she casually glances down at her nails, “Had to go do something only he could do , I don’t know. He’s been at your bedside every day and night. He’s gonna be pissed when he gets back to see you finally awake when he wasn’t here. In fact, you should get back to bed.”

“How long ‘til he’s back?” You ask, completely disregarding her suggestion.

“No idea,” She shrugs, her expression still smug. She was having fun seeing your schoolgirl crush. Lyla knew everything from the beginning. She knew all the rules of the agreement too. Miguel brought you to his home. You’d slept in his bed. You’d stayed in this dimension well past the 48-hour limit. He was breaking rules for you— Miguel didn’t break rules.

You take your water and head to the massive windows. There was a large balcony just beyond the apartment. Lyla, seemingly reading your mind, opened the door for you— well not exactly a door. A rectangle of glass dissipates right next to you, leading outside. Guess they don’t do doors the same way in 2099. 

The air is fresher than you expected for a city balcony, you attribute it to being so high up. This view was easily head and shoulders above any of the surrounding buildings. It was cold and a little windy, but it felt nice on your arching, bedridden body. 

The view was spectacular. You’d been to Nueva York dozens of times before, technically, but you spent all your time in spider tower. You’d caught glimpses of the city, of course, but you never really took the time to appreciate it. 

New York in 2099. A futuristic version of your home. It looked nothing like your New York. Everything was so sleek and rounded— taller than your world's cities. There are a few things you can recognize from this height. The green of Central Park is still cut out in the center of the towering Skyscrapers. You’re in Manhattan, not far from the park. The rivers converging around the islands— okay maybe you only recognize a few things. The buildings and streets you know were likely engulfed amongst the behemoth futuristic towers that now make up this New York.

No, this wasn’t your New York. This was Nueva York, and it was incredible. 

“Lyla,” You ask and she automatically blips to your side, “Where are we? Like, where is his apartment?”

“You’re still in the tower,” She confirms, “The penthouse suite.”

She confirms your suspicions. You may not have seen much of the city, but you were certain Spider Tower was one of the tallest buildings in it.

Miguel lived and worked here. You wonder if he ever left the grounds in anything other than a portal. Did he have friends? Did he like to go out to dinner? What silly little life did he live outside of being Spider-Man? You suspect he doesn’t have one. You want to ask Lyla but you feel like you’ve already invaded enough of his personal life simply by being here. Then again… he apparently brought you here.

“Why am I here, Lyla?”

She raises her eyebrows over lidded, unamused eyes, “Do you really need an advanced AI to tell you that, girl?”

You don’t, but you also don’t want to dwell on the deeper implications of this unholy shit show. 

“What do you think of… this? Of us?”

“Try being a little less vague if you can.” The AI rolls her eyes. 

“Fair enough.” you mull over your next words, “But just… why would Miguel bring me here? He’s broken almost every rule.”

“Ya know, it amazes me how dense you humans can be,” She leans against the railing next to you, “Before you came along, Gabe and I were his only close friends. Though, I’m not sure I count.”

“You count.” You inform her immediately. 

“Well, thank you,” Some comical blush circles pop up on her face and disappear in an instant, “Miguel cares a lot, despite trying to make people think he’s made of stone. You’re the only other person that’s… been in his life this way. He looks out for his own. Something bad happened to you— and he got scared. And he took control like he always does. Humans aren't always rational. That’s something you all need to accept.”

For a programmed interface, she was a really good therapist. It was all things you already knew but just didn’t want to admit to. You were just human. Miguel cared. You both cared— and that made everything more complicated. 

“Was he really with me the whole time?” You ask Lyla, suddenly feeling like a tween gushing over a crush again.

She peeks her eyes over her obnoxious heart-shaped glasses and rolls her head to the side, “Why don’t you ask him yourself.” and in a flash, she’s gone.

As soon as she vanishes, you feel the spider-sense ring in your head, and butterflies instantly rise in your stomach. You turn around to see Miguel standing at the door, still in his spider suit with an almost heartbreaking look on his face.

“What are you doing out here?” it takes him only four long strides to stand at your side, “Lyla shouldn’t have let you out of bed.”

“To Lyla’s credit, she did try,” You smile at him. He doesn’t smile back, worry painted over his features.

“Stubborn woman.” He reaches out to you but quickly pauses his movements as if he’s afraid he’ll break you. “Please, come back inside. It’s freezing out here.”

You nod and head back towards the door. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of how slow and awkward your walking is. He slowly walks at your side the whole time, hovering a hand behind you as if you’ll fall at any second. You catch a glimpse of your full body in the reflection of the windows and you can see why he’s so cautious around you. You looked like a minefield of bandages and bruises. It was jarring to see all at once. 

The door closes behind you with a sleek ring as the glass reforms in an instant. You’ll never get used to that. 

Miguel’s in front of you again, ghosting his hands over your body, “I can’t believe you’re up and walking. How are you feeling? How’s your vision? They stopped the internal bleeding right away but there still might be—”

He shuts up when he meets your eyes. His were wide but still soft somehow. Caring in a way you hadn’t seen before— deep, lustful red eyes.

“Hi,” you simply say.

“Hi,” he responds with the faintest of smiles. You’d seen his face flash through a series of emotions since he saw you, but he seems to have finally settled on relief. 

“I… Like your house.”

“Uh, Thanks,” He stands up straight again, scratching the back of his head, “Will you— I need to— Can you just sit in the living room for me?”

“Um, sure, yeah,” you make your way to the living room just in front of you, he hovers next to you the entire way. He helps you to a seated position on the couch. You swear he holds himself back from fluffing the pillows too. 

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect you to be–” He slowly sits down next to you, taking a deep breath. Shouldn’t you be the one freaking out? Today, apparently not,  “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” You say with slightly forced cheerfulness, “I mean… good considering…” you look down at the bandages scattering your body.

His gaze drops away from yours, “Yeah.”

You weren’t lying. Sure, you were achy and groggy with some bad scrapes and bruises, but overall… not bad. You’d likely experienced a critical accident just days ago. Even with advanced healing, you shouldn’t be as chipper as you are.

“I mean… how am I feeling this good ?” You ask, simultaneously questioning yourself and Miguel. “Lyla said it’s only been 3 days.”

“Four days now.” Miguel’s eyes shoot back to yours, “Partially because of your suit. The nanotech acted as a shield for the most part, preventing any burns and such. You’re also in the twenty-second century with access to the multiverse. We can heal anything.”

That’s… a fair point. Well, future medicine fucking rocked.

He scoots closer to you, reaching out his hand toward your wrist. He pauses, waiting for your permission and you simply place your arm in his hand. 

“For example. Here…” He gently runs his thumb along a faint silvery line on your forearm, “You had stitches. I removed them this morning. The rest of these,” He runs a thumb over one of your bandages, “Are cautionary until this evening.”

“That’s amazing,” You look down at your other arm with scattered marks and bandages. Just a matter of hours and you’d be back to normal—for the most part. Like nothing ever happened at all. 

“Still,” Miguel’s gaze drops again, “I don’t change the fact that you shouldn’t have been—”

“Don’t,” You cut him off, already knowing where this is going. “Shit happens. Shit always just happens with this job. I’m a big girl, I’ve been through this before. If you turn my freak accident into self-loathing man pain I’m gonna fucking kick your ass, O’Hara.”

You don’t want to focus on the gravity of it all. You don’t want some protective speech, you don’t want assurances that everything will be okay when you know it will be. His actions have spoken louder than his words ever could. You just… want him to stop looking at you like that— Like you’re helpless.

He says nothing. Shock briefly pulls at his stern features until he settles into a smile. You smile back. 

“You’re probably hungry.” He says. 

Right on cue, your stomach growls like a beast and you’re suddenly fully aware of the aching hollowness inside you. 

“Starving.”

____________

Thank god Thai food still tasted the same in the future. You made the request and Lyla had it delivered in less than thirty minutes. It was Miguel’s favorite place in the city, apparently. He had a favorite restaurant, just more proof to you that he wasn’t completely a workaholic robot. There was a regular human underneath that rugged persona, just like you’d always suspected. 

You heartily enjoy a red curry and a few dumplings, Miguel has some noodle dish he sets aside for later. 

As you finish your meal Miguel returns with a kit of medical supplies, graciously asking if he could check your progress. You agree, not turning away from your dinner for a second. He scans your body with a small tool you’d never seen before.  

“Inflammation down 20 percent, vitals normal, advanced healing progressing as expected,” Lyla’s ambient voice announces, “She’s doing great, despite not listening.”

“I’m a rebel, what can I say,” you chuckle lightly. The scan finishes and several small projections hover around Miguel. 

“Okay, yeah, this is all good. Really good,” He says, reading over the results. He’d changed out of his suit, opting for a loose pair of sweats and a shirt with a band you don’t recognize. Strangely enough, he looked more attractive in normal clothes than in a skintight suit. He was comfortable. He wasn’t Spider-Man or a leader he was just— Miguel. You liked just Miguel.

He rummages around back in the kit and pulls out a syringe with pale blue liquid. 

Oh hell no.

“What’s that?” You ask with apprehension. 

“Painkiller and something that’ll speed up your healing,” He scoots closer to you at the dinner table, “This is your last round of it.”

“I don’t think—”

He jabs it into your shoulder before you can properly protest. Despite the pain from the needle, you swear you can feel relief instantly once it’s injected. 

“Ouch.” You grumble, taking the last bite of your rich curry.

“Oh, do you need a lollipop?” he tuts, packing away the kit— infuriating man.

“No, but maybe something else to suck on,” You joke. His cheeks flush in an instant. Victory. “Actually what I’d like most is a shower,” you admit. 

After four days of stewing motionless in a bed, you can practically smell yourself— which means Miguel could definitely smell you. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re still a fainting risk and I don’t want to leave you—”

“Okay, then come with me.” You counter instantly. His protective nature is not going to keep you from a hot shower. And well… It felt nice to have him close. 

 He pauses, raising his eyebrows at you. His cheeks are still faintly red, “I mean, I guess I—”

“Great,” You stand and make your way to the stairs, “Let’s go.”

You pause at the foot of the stairs, remembering what a slow challenge they were earlier. Sure, you were feeling better than earlier— you’d had a meal and whatever was in that needle was fucking magic— but your legs still felt like compacted jelly.

Before you can take the first step you feel Miguel behind you, his hands caressing down the back of your legs and up your back. He gently scoops you into his arms with ease and strides up the steps without missing a beat. Your spider-sense sighs in gratitude.

“Sure. Let’s go.” He grins, glancing down at you. 

He walks you both back through his bedroom and into the master bath. A sleek glossy room that matched the rest of the penthouse, every inch of it covered in black marble. The massive shower was on your left and the counter with a ceiling-height mirror was to your right. He seats you on the counter next to the sink. The rainfall shower starts up behind him. 

“Okay, let’s get these off you,” he says as he kneels down and gently pulls off one of the bandages from your leg. The flesh underneath is practically healed. You start to remove the ones from your arms, grazing your fingers over the already faint pink marks underneath them. Some were faint scabs and cuts, others were almost entirely healed over. Just four days and this is what was left.

He stands, finished with your legs. He grabs the hem of your shirt and gingerly pulls it off of you. All that remained was the bandages wrapping your abdomen. He slowly starts to unroll them. You wince slightly. He pauses but you nod for him to continue. This was the worst area. The bruises you saw peaking out earlier were already fading away from their previous deep purple. A faint wound still remained on your left side, red tendrils from it reaching over your stomach. You notice small pricks lining the larger portions of the wound. You’d had stitches here too— and now it looked like it’d been healing for weeks.

You shake your head, not wanting to stare at the damage any longer. Later. You’d think about it all later. You had a beautiful man and a shower that were calling your name. 

You slide off the counter and pull at the hem of Miguel's shirt. He leans down and you pull it off his body, revealing that gorgeous toned torso. He runs his fingers along the elastic of your shorts and shimmies them off your hips. You do the same with his sweats. A silent ballet you both were deeply familiar with at this point. He cradles your hands as he guides you both backward into the waiting shower.

The steaming water feels like heaven as soon as it hits your body, the rainfall drenching you both in an instant. Your sore limbs instantly feel relief. Your buzzing mind was put at ease. All the anxieties of the day melted away and spiraled down the drain. 

You pause there, just letting the sensation consume you. Time slows down and the crackling sound of water hitting stone fades away. You feel like you can properly think for the first time since you woke up hours ago— and it all hits you at once. 

You fought. You almost died— and Miguel saved you. If he wasn’t right there when it happened, who knows what would have happened to you. You wouldn’t be here in his house, that’s for sure. He’d stayed by your side, he exhausted every resource to heal you. And he was still by your side right now. 

He looks out for his own. Something bad happened to you— and he got scared.

Lyla’s words from earlier echo in your head. He was scared to lose you. You were scared to ever lose him. Not just as a fellow spider but as… something more maybe. You’d felt the feelings pulling at you when you hunted him down in the multiverse those weeks ago. Terrified you’d find him injured or even dead. It was more than a spider-sense. More than this forced proximity you’d both had… well, it wasn’t so forced anymore, was it.

You feel your weakened legs start to wobble and Miguel's hands are instantly on you, pulling you close to him. 

“Easy, arañita,” he coos ever so softly.

You look up at him, watching the water cascade over his stern face. His fluffy hair was now drenched down over his forehead. Those crimson eyes filled with concern. 

You sigh and rest your head on his chest. “Thank you… for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” He runs a hand over your head and down your back. “Consider us even for saving me… if that helps.”

And there it is, the Miguel you knew. Trying to step away from the gravity of the situation. From feelings becoming too real. This was all supposed to be temporary after all, maybe you should take a page from his book.

Still, you were both here in each other's arms— and that meant something.

“ Déjame cuidarte .” He says just above a whisper. 

Miguel trails his hands down your arms, his touch somehow hotter than the water. You close your eyes at the combined sensation. You feel him reach overhead, grabbing something. His hands come back to you, now trailing through your hair. You feel a foamy lather as he does so and the faint smell of flowers hits your nose. 

Miguel was washing your hair. 

His fingers move slowly and with purpose as they crawl along your scalp. This wasn’t about getting you clean, this was about making you feel good. He was trying to comfort you. To make you forget about… well, everything. 

You melt into him, trailing your hands along his stomach. One of his hands trails down your back while the other works the shampoo through your hair. He holds you close. He takes care of you.

He leans your head to the side, the soap rinsing from your hair. He walks you both further into the stream of water and turns you around. Your back is flush with his torso as his hands ever so gently trail over your healing body. 

You feel suds foaming from his touch. When had he grabbed that soap? You decide you don’t really care. 

He leans down, lips caressing your temples. “Do you feel good, little spider?”

“Yes,” You sigh.

“Do you want to feel better?” you feel one of his hands trail down your stomach and gently ghost over your waiting cunt. A pulse of arousal surges through your whole body. 

“Please,” You moan, pulling his head further down. You lean back and pull him into a kiss. His fingers plunge down and run through your folds. You gasp for air at the sensation. 

His fingers come up and circle lazily around your clit, already wet and wanting for his touch. He holds you. He plays with you. 

Something’s missing this time. Something that was always there when you were both in the most intimate of positions— The spider-sense. You felt its presents, as you always did with Miguel, but you didn’t feel its pull. It’s seemingly innate nature to make you and Miguel go at each other like animals. 

He wasn’t doing any of this because he felt like he had to, he was doing this because wanted to. He wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to see you squirm and come undone by his hands. 

Later— Think about it later. Just enjoy this. Enjoy him. 

He slowly pushes his middle finger inside you. You grind yourself into his palm as he slowly works in and out of you. His free hand comes up to cradle your breasts. He backs you both into the closest wall, the water still cascading over you. His knee comes up between your legs, spreading you wider. 

“I’ve got you, arañita. Te tengo, está bien .” He moans against you. You're completely leaning against him as he holds you close. As he works you faster. 

You see a glimpse of the both of you in the mirror past the quickly fogging glass— it’s absolutely filthy and you love it. His massive hulking form curled around you wantonly. Your serine, blissed-out face. You adored this man.  

“I want you,” You moan, “W-want more.”

“No,” He says just a little too quickly, “Not yet.”

“Please.” You beg breathlessly. 

“Not yet, sweet girl,” He sighs, pressing a kiss against your temple. “Finish healing. Get better for me, then you can have whatever you want.”

You don’t entirely dislike the sound of that. You're suddenly aware of your aching body again after being so caught up in the moment. With how fast you were healing it wouldn’t be long at all. 

“P-promise?” you barely gasp out. 

“I promise.” He curls his finger inside you, grinding his palm against your clit. You gasp, arching further into his touch. “Good girl.”

He was playing you like a fiddle. Familiar with every part of you like the back of his hand. He holds you there against him for what felt like hours, slowly working you. Letting the pressure build and fade as he saw fit— making you feel good.

You eventually come with a shaky sigh, your mind completely melting away. He holds you up, letting the warm water wash over you a few minutes more. You were spent, you were tired. The shower stops. Miguel wraps you in a towel and carries you to the bed.

He sets you on the mattress and gently runs the towel over your body. He cradles your leg, kissing down the length of it as the towel wicks away the beads of moisture. He does the same with your other leg and your arms. He takes his time, giving attention to every part of you. You watch him as he does so, feeling your heart race faster with every gentle touch. 

He said he would take care of you. He said he wanted you to feel good. 

When he finishes you hold each other's gaze for a moment. Both still completely naked, you now dry and him still sopping wet. It was a little ridiculous, but you’d never felt more comfortable around someone in your life than with this lumbering man kneeling at your feet. 

He stands eventually, running the now useless towel over his damp hair. “I should—”

“Stay,” you reach out to him, grabbing his wrist. “Stay with me tonight. Please.”

He pauses, looking down at you. You can’t help but feel so small and meek under his gaze. He’d just unspokenly catered to your every need and now you were begging him to sleep with you. Pathetic, maybe, but you don’t fucking care. You just didn’t want him to leave— and you don’t think he does either.

He closes his eyes with a small smile, “Alright. One moment, please.”

He disappears back into the bathroom to grab a fresh towel and comes back out dry with a pair of black briefs on. You curl under the crisp white covers as he rounds the other side of his massive bed. The lights dim as he crawls in next to you. You roll onto your side and he pulls you into him. You feel his steady breathing against your back and it sends a wave of comfort over the normally buzzing spider-sense. He was so close. You were in his bed— with him.

“Miguel—”

“Shhhh,” he hums, resting his chin just above your head, “Duerme querida.”

You close your mouth, opting just to enjoy the rare moment with him. The feel of his body completely engulfing yours. His thumb tenderly rubbing comforting circles against your stomach. His alluring, amazing scent. Everything— just everything about him right now. You commit it to memory and lock it away.

You were in deep shit.

__________

Déjame cuidarte: Let me take care of you Te tengo, está bien: I’ve got you, it’s okay. Duerme, querida: Sleep, my dear.

And of course, do correct me if any of this is wrong!

I could think of literally no other way to get our Arañita in his house other than some dramatic near death experience, okay

_________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf @raerorigel @littlefreakymunson @viriexo

@w33ni3

[therealmlpguy]

propoganda:

The Enigma of Amigara Fault: They are soulmate, they are destined to be one, but the hole will change Owaki till he is not even more human

Star Wars:

Leia and Tarkin are an insanely dysfunctional match… He is a 64 year old highly ranking military leader and politician for an authoritarian/fascist regime (the Galactic Empire) which usurped the galaxy’s government in the same year of Leia’s birth. She is the 19 year old crown princess and Imperial Senator for the peaceful planet of Alderaan, and secretly uses her status in order to spy and deliver supplies and information for the Rebel Alliance— a small, plucky band of freedom fighters seeking to overthrow the Empire and return democracy/peace/freedom etc. Could I make it anymore obvious 😐 It’s very heavily suggested in the film, and shown in supplementary material (books, comics, etc) that Leia and Tarkin have always hated each other’s guts. Tarkin has long suspected both Leia and her family, the royal house of Alderaan, of being rebel agents/sympathizers. In the book Leia: Princess of Alderaan we see him stalking them about it and trying to exploit Leia’s vulnerabilities to get her to crack.

He invites her to to his office for tea and basically implies that he will have her parents assassinated and install her as a puppet ruler of her planet in their stead. She’s also sixteen at that point. Then, at the beginning of the main film, Leia— now nineteen— gets captured by Darth Vader while on a mission— Vader is also kind of sort of under Tarkin’s command at the time. Leia is taken to the Death Star— a giant battle station which can blow up planets, which Tarkin has been given charge of— and held as a prisoner. There she is tortured using spooky sci-fi devices for information about the rebels, including the location of their base, which Tarkin and Vader want to destroy. Vader’s the main torturer but it is clear that Tarkin is involved in supervising the whole thing and may have participated directly off screen. (The torture includes stuff like: injecting her with hallucinogenic drugs that make her believe herself to be in super duper pain (like she’s on fire), shocking her, pinching and poking her with stuff, etc etc). Leia does not tell them anything.

When Vader reports back to Tarkin that he hasn’t broken Leia, our crusty villain is not pleased. Until he comes up with a worser more evil plan…. And so he has Leia brought to the bridge of the station to show this evil plan off. He orders her execution and taunts her about it while creepily touching her face, then blows up her entire home planet of Alderaan in front of her as an elaborate means of psychological torture. Keep in mind Alderaan is full of a ton of civilians who have nothing to do with the war. This is a war crime. Beforehand a horrified Leia feigns breaking and giving him the rebel base’s location in order to try and buy time to save her people; Tarkin thinks she told the truth but still destroys Alderaan anyway because the planet she named was “too remote to provide an effective demonstration” of the Death Star’s capability. In short he has no respect for life and wants to see her suffer.

The entire time this scene happens he’s being very cold and clearly taking sadistic amusement in Leia’s pain and in getting to kill all these innocent people. He also invades Leia’s personal space a lot in a very creepy way. We can see that Leia— who is genuinely a very brave girl— is pretty scared by him at this point. But also very angry. The moment he finds out Leia’s information was a lie he becomes enraged (he can excuse planetary genocide but he DRAWS THE LINE at getting tricked by a teen girl he’s holding captive) and demands that she be terminated (executed) immediately. Fortunately da boiz (Luke Skywalker Han Solo Chewbacca Obi wobi etc) arrive on the Death Star just in time to save the beautiful princess from dying of Terminal Old Man.

She leads said boiz back to the real rebel base and delivers the plans to the Death Star so that they can blow the thing up. They blow it up, killing Tarkin. TL;DR -This ship is between a very young girl and a very old man and that’s the least of their problems -They hate each other and are political enemies. Moreover he kind of borderline stalked her as a teen. -She was captured and became his prisoner. He had her tortured for information. -when she didn’t break, he blew up her entire planet, killing 2 billion innocents solely to traumatize and spite her. -He sentenced her to be executed, and she played a vital role in the battle that led to his actual death. Both have strong intentions to kill the other. There is not a UNIVERSE in which the relationship between these two wouldn’t be something messed up and VILE. That is a big draw for them. They have a weird sort of chemistry. I love them sosososososoo much. Hopefully this educated you on how messed up they are. Like sure your enemies to lovers ship is good I bet but is your bad guy an irredeemable fascist who killed 2 billion people because your heroine made him mad??? Probably not. 

[aurora567]

Lyrical Abstraction Ch. 9

Warning: this story will contain mature content such as but not limited to sex, cursing, blood, violence, kidnapping, torture, ptsd, trauma, depression, mentions of death, Aoi is anti hero and anti hero society.

Summary: Izuku learns a little more about his neighbor as he spends his day with her.

Word count: 3728

Last Chapter Last Chapter

Dinner had come and gone quickly and once again Aoi was cleaning up the dishes, though this time her guest was still sitting at the table watching her as she did something as simple as washing dishes and putting everything back where it belonged among her almost empty cupboards. It once again hit home to Izuku the fact that on closer inspection the woman did not have a lot. She couldn’t be lazy even if she wanted to because just to cook for them both used up almost all the pots, pans and dishes she had. He had completely assumed she was just the kind of person to clean up after herself. But now it seemed she really had no choice if she wished to use any dishes for the next meal. He shouldn’t have been surprised it was already made clear to him that she worked a dead end job and even picked up other odd jobs in order to have more money.

Which now had Izuku thinking about how he could repay his nice neighbor for her kindness. The first thing to come to his mind was a gift. But of course he had to worry if the woman would accept a gift if he offered it. She reminded him a lot of Bakugou both stubborn and pigheaded. So of course his brain had to worry that she would deny any gift he tried to offer. Though that did not stop him from still looking through his phone as what is supposed to be top of the line cookware. Then again as he scrolled through the options online he just found himself comparing brands. What made one worth so much more than another? They all seemed to be made similarly.

His lack of kitchen skill had him second guessing if he should just buy the most expensive option and call it good. But then again he feared she would see something clearly expensive and turn it down. So going with the most expensive one didn’t seem like such a good idea any more. But still what made one set different from the other? Was it simply the brand name? The materials? If so, what one material made a better pot or pan than the other? Izuku was just confusing himself at this point as he decided to try and ask for a little help. Though he may have made the wrong decision on who to ask for help this time when he sent a test to Kacchan asking which two sets of dishware was the better one?

It took less than three seconds for the first reply to come in and of course it had nothing to do with his original question from the angry blonde and was instead ripping into the current number one hero who had been missing out on work the last two days. Seemed Bakugou did not approve of Izuku taking the time off. But it seemed once the blonde was allowed to get that off his chest with a few angry typed out texts he finally sent a random last one that told Izuku to get one particular brand of kitchenware that at least the blonde liked personally. Well at least he got his answer along with nearly a dozen other texts in the span of a few minutes.

“What did you do? piss off a fan?” the owner of the home asked, smirking playfully as she teased him while she was drying off her hands after finishing washing the dishes and eyed up the phone that had been vibrating almost consistently in his hand for the last minute.

“Huh? Oh uhm no it's a friend,” Izuku answered the woman even as he felt the phone vibrate in his large hand. Which in turn drew his eyes away from her as he glanced at the screen of his phone to read at least the start of the text that was visible in the notification. Now Kacchan was questioning why Izuku needed new supplies for his kitchen when Bakugou knew very well that Izuku did not do a lot of cooking himself.

“They must be pretty worried about you if they are blowing up your phone like that,” She said laughing as she could hear the ever so soft buzzing from his cell phone.

“Not really this is just how Kacchan texts. He usually blows up a phone when he does reply to someone’s text,” Izuku said as he placed his phone down not feeling the need to answer his friend at that exact moment as he turned his attention to the woman who had moved to sit in the other chair at the table.

“So he’s just always an asshole, great to know,” she said, simply not sounding all that impressed with Izuku’s friend. Of course the poor man could tell the woman sitting across from him really did not like the loud blonde hero that they were currently talking about.

“He’s really not that bad when you get to know him. Is it just Kacchan you dislike so much? Or is it hero’s as a whole?” He asked though he regretted asking it the second the words slipped out as he watched her frown and scrunch up her nose.

“I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I don’t hate all heroes. But I can not say I like your profession as a whole. Far too many heroes, even small time ones, love to push their weight around. I’ve had a few different run-ins with some. It’s never been fun. Try not to take it personally but I am not a fan of heroes,” she answered honestly in a soft tone. Bakugou Katsuki was just one hero who was top of the leader board and was openly loud and obnoxious in her opinion. So she had no issues openly hating the man, but she also shared similar open thoughts about other heroes like good old Endeavor.

Izuku couldn’t help but rub the back of his neck and shift his weight around. He was not overly surprised to hear her opinion. It was very quickly becoming clear to him with her living in the neighborhood she did, mixed with the important knowledge that she had been kicked out of her home at a young age. It didn’t take a genius to assume she has not had an easy life. And if she was really unlucky she may have even run with the wrong crowd as a kid and could have seen her far share of heroes from the less than great side. After all it's not like anyone he has arrested would be his fan either. Though now he was curious if he was sitting with a criminal in her own home. But that was a question he knew better than to ask out loud.

“That’s fair. Not everyone likes hero’s. I see that a fair bit when I'm working. Though usually those people hate me because I’m arresting them. But I'm not saying that's why you may hate heroes,” Izuku’s ears started to burn and he suddenly found himself in a rambling apology as panic struck him after he had tried so hard to remind himself to not say anything that was offensive and he felt like he just shot himself in the foot with what was rambling form his mouth as he sat there embarrassed and struggling to stop the word vomit.

It wasn’t till she started to laugh lightly that the man was finally able to force his mouth to stop, though it was more like his body had frozen up unable to keep anything else stupid from escaping his mouth.

“You don't need to apologize or get so nervous. You’re perspective and smart. I have had my fair share of run-ins with hero’s and it's never been fun. People don’t like being arrested even if they have done something wrong. But we tend to dislike it even more when a hero arrests someone just because we piss them off. It is also no fun being man handled by a hero on a power trip. Like this one time Endeavor arrested me after I got in his face or tried to damn that man was tall or I'm just really short. But anyways I let my dumb mouth rip into him. He did not enjoy being ripped into by some teenage girl and I found my ass in handcuffs. It didn’t last long since there was really nothing he could have done. But still it was not fun spending a day at a police station waiting to be released,” She said laughing lightly at the memory of her younger self giving Endeavor an absolute tongue lashing once in the middle of a busy street. She couldn't remember what had exactly set her off. Probably something about how he treated a fan since she always had hated the way he was so cold to people even those who supported his stupid ass and helped him to be the number two then number one for a short while. She remembers walking up to him and completely poking him in the chest even though she did not even make it to the man's shoulders at her highest point at the time. And in order to even look at his face as she was yelling at him she had to crank her neck back. As much as the endless hours she spent handcuffed it had been so worth it. And she would have done it again to watch the look on that man's face as it went from shock to anger as she embarrassed his ass. And now watching Izuku gawk at her she could hardly keep herself from laughing even more at the memory.

“Please tell me it’s a joke?” he asked as he watched a grin tug at the woman’s lips.

“Nope. I really did that. And to be honest I would probably do it again if I ever had a chance,” She said a little too proudly as she placed an elbow on the table and placed her chin in her palm before she sobered up at least a little.

“Honestly I never could understand how that man had made it to even the number two spot before All Might's retirement. It's just one big popularity contest isn't it?” she asked as she looked across the table who could actually answer her question since he himself was currently number one.

“Well it's not really that simple. Our track records for hero work also come into play. Hero’s. Those with more arrests, or big busts often end up with better ratings than those who do less or chase after more lower level crime,” Izuku said slowly even though in a large part she was not wrong. Being seen, being in the news, being well liked and popular did allow a hero to climb the ranks faster.

“So you're saying those with bigger agency’s, more employees, more news coverage are the ones who rank higher. That still sounds like a popularity test with a little bit of money tossed around to help,” She said bluntly as she watched him rub the back of his neck telling her she must be pretty accurate as he became uneasy with how to answer back.

“Well you're not completely wrong. But I think you're assuming it's a little more corrupt than it really is. You do not have to have the biggest agency to be a top rank. I know a number of top fifty hero’s who operate smaller agencies and are easily able to hold their ranking. But in a sense you're really not wrong there are some who pay out to help themselves get higher in the ranks. There were always rumors that Endeavor liked to pay for his problems to disappear. But I can not really think of any younger newer hero who does the same. Of course that doesn’t mean it doesn't happen but I don't think it's common,” once again the young man had started to ramble as he tried to explain how she wasn't wrong but she also was not completely right. Luckily for him she was growing too tired to feel like arguing with him, though she probably wouldn't even if she had the energy to as she watched him seem to struggle to not just ramble off about his profession. It also made her gut twist at the thought of assuming or trying to accuse this sugar cookie of a man; was some sort of a corrupt or greedy hero who held his number one title using money or his power when clearly that was not how this man held his high rank. He was genuinely nice and kind, no wonder people loved him. He had the power to save hundreds and the boyish charm to make people love him.

“Calm down, I'm not trying to accuse you or anyone but Endeavor,” She said as she softly waved her other hand at him before she found herself yawning softly. She was tired even though she had done nothing but basic house work. The less than great sleep she had was catching up with her already. Oh well this should be the last night she has to sleep on her floor. Watching the woman across from him yawn had him calm down and recall how he had found her during the early morning hours that morning.

“You didn’t get a lot of good sleep last night did you?” He asked frowning softly at her.

“It was not perfect but it could have been worse. It’s not like one or two bad nights of sleep will kill me,” she said with a soft shrug of her shoulders. She was more mellow when she was slightly tired. She did not have the energy any more to argue with people.

“Still it doesn’t sit well that I have stolen your bed from you,” he said shuffling slightly in his seat as if he had more to say but seemed unsure.

“It’s fine. If it wasn’t I’d have kicked you out a long time ago,” even though she said that Aoi really didn’t mean it. She may be a little rough around the edges but her heart was too big for its own good. She could never turn down a hurt person or animal.

“Still it makes me feel bad for taking up your bedroom,” Izuku mumbled softly. She had noticed his large scarred hands bend and flex slowly. Some did not seem to have the best mobility. Which made sense as she looked at his rough hands. A body could only take so much abuse and his hands clearly showed the signs of being abused at some point in his life. Then again she remembered the view of his bare chest that morning when he was in nothing more than a towel. She had tried not to stare but she had noticed the scars that littered his body as well as the large one along his one arm. It was a sobering reminder that this man would risk his own body and life to keep others safe.

“You can feel bad all you want. It's not going to change the fact I will not let you sleep on the couch in your shape. I’d probably need a few of your hero buddy’s to come and get you off my couch if you sleep on it now,” she said trying to crack a joke though her less than enthusiastic energy did not quite let the joke work as well as it may have if she was a little more energetic. Instead she was greeted with a frowning man as she finally pulled her eyes away from his hands and looked up at his face.

“You know my offer from last night still stands,” He said as his entire face started to go beet red and now he could no longer meet her eyes as she looked up at him. He coughed when she did not right away say anything as her brain was processing the fact that he was once again saying they could just share her bed.

“I mean it is your bed. And I feel really bad taking it from you. And it's not like I would do anything,” He was rambling again as the words very quickly started to escape him faster than her slow brain could comprehend the words. But she did have to ponder why did she not like the idea of sharing a bed? He was already so embarrassed over simply bringing up the subject. The thought that this rambling shy boy would even dare to touch her was almost enough to make her laugh. So he was not actually the problem. So then what was stopping her from being able to sleep in her own bed? It had simply been her own stubbornness that had sent her to sleep on the floor last night, which her back was also arguing about. Jeez she wasn't even thirty already and her body was unhappy with its unpleasant sleeping arrangement from the night before. She slept like that many times as a teenager and she did not remember her body arguing so much back then.

“Okay okay just stop your rambling. I can not understand you any more,” She said, trying not to laugh as she watched the man instantly shut his mouth after a quick apology to her. Yep an innocent and stupid sugar cookie. She wondered if he had ever even slept with a woman? He seemed so shy and innocent she had a feeling the answer to her question was no. Maybe that was the reason she didn't actually fear or have any concerns with the idea of sleeping beside him. Midoriya didn't look like he would touch her in her sleep even if she wanted him too.

“Fine you win, hero. I’ll take you up on your offer. But if I hog all the blankets and you freeze your ass off tonight you can not blame me,” She said playfully even though she really was not sure if she was a blanket hog. It wasn’t that her past partners were dine and dashes themselves, it was more so she herself never stuck around. Maybe that was where her uneasiness came from, she never stuck around with her own lovers yet was now going to share a bed with a man who would not be naked nor would she be. It still had her oddly unease for some reason she couldn't exactly explain at the moment.

“Oh uhm great, or I mean okay,” He stumbled around his words as it seemed his entire face was so red she almost couldn't see his freckles any more and the redness was even spreading down his neck.

“Down boy,” She said, unable to help but tease him lightly even as she watched him become even more flustered if that was possible as he quickly started apologizing. Which now had her laughing as he apologized for doing nothing wrong.

“Well then you may not be tired but I am,” She said as she let out another yawn before slowly punching herself to her feet before offering him a hand to help him up.

“I hope you don't mind heading to bed so early,” She said as she helped him up to his feet then offered him a shoulder to lean on as the two of them now started to slowly shuffle their way towards her bedroom.

“Well my hero work does tend to get in the way of my sleep. But I don’t mind, I am sure I’ll fall asleep,” He said, simply giving her a small smile as the two of them slowly made their way through the small apartment and finally into her room. With her help he was able to get himself to the end of the bed where she helped him to sit down. Once he was sitting she stepped back and moved to start sorting through her clothes looking for something clean to wear to bed. Grabbing some shorts and a t-shirt Aoi paused and pouted for a second while her back was turned to the man. She was tired and had little desire to go and walk to her bathroom just to change. But she imagined just stripping down in front of the man may give him a heart attack and she had no desire to kill the idiot after she did so much to see him live.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t fall off the bed,” She called out over her shoulder as she walked out of her bedroom with a light laughter as she heard him call out that he wasn't that incompetent.

It only took a few minutes before she had returned to the bedroom, dumping her dirty clothes into her now empty hamper before she turned her attention to the man who was still sitting on her bed. Of course the look of how red his face was she almost laughed. Was it the tiny shorts she was wearing or was it the fact she had ditched her bra that made the man look so embarrassed. Either way watching him blush and look away from her quickly as she first walked into the bedroom was still entertaining. At least giving him some reprieve she flicked the light off to her bedroom using the screen of her cell phone to light up her path to her bed before she sat down on the other side. She could feel the bed shifting as she listened to Izuku slowly dragging himself into the bed as she plugged her phone in and then proceeded to also do the same.

“Good night Midoriya,” She said as she laid down along the edge of her bed as she kept her back to the man. Suddenly her exhaustion seemed to disappear and now she seemed almost hyper aware of the warm body beside her even as he bid her a good night as well. She could feel the warmth from his body under the blanket with her, his breathing seemed a little fast but then again her own breathing was refusing to calm down as well. This was going to be a long night for them both.

Next Chapter

[hearthymns]

"that  isn't  the  reason.  the  reason  is  the  way  you  aren't  listening  to  me  and  i'm  having  to  SCREAM  to  get  my  point  across.  as  if  i  prefer  to  act  like  a  maniac?"  she  doesn't  find  it  appealing  to  act  this  way  either,  but  she  has  an  issue  with  her  feelings  being  suppressed  then  boiling  over  once  she's  had  enough.  rose  always  has  allowed  herself  to  get  stomped  on  until  she's  finally  had  enough  and  when  that  happens,  she's  fiery  and  explosive.  her  flaws  and  worst  traits  in  her.  "why  can't  you  do  something  like  leonardo  da  vinci,  then?  paint  one  woman  and  you  won't  even  need  to  paint  another  again  because  you'll  become  so  successful  on  that  one  painting  alone."  redhead  huffs,  throwing  her  hands  up  then  another  thought  comes  to  the  front  of  her  mind.  "and  funny,  how  mona  lisa  isn't  naked  and  she  is  the  most  popular  form  of  art  in  the  world  for  CENTURIES."  rose  retorts,  since  she  doesn't  buy  his  excuse.  "what?  what  did  i  destroy?  you  have  nothing  but  pages  containing  pages  full  of  naked  body  parts."  she  can't  focus  on  anything  he  draws  now  because  of  it, which is a shame because she always has been in awe of what a gift he was truly blessed with. 

slowly  she  turns  on  her  heel,  hand  on  the  doorknob.  blue  eyes  sharply  staring  at  his  own.  "oh  yeah?"  she  takes  back  off,  leading  herself  to  the  kitchen  then  re-emerging,  "i  can  take  care  of  myself  and  a  hobo  on  my  own JUST fine."  she  brings  out  the  sharpest  knife  in  it,  holding  up  a  butcher  knife.  she  begins  to  leave  again,  pushing  past  him  again,  then  this  time  she's  stopped  with  his  hand  gently  grabbing  her  arm.  she  isn't  being  insulted  any  longer,  so  rose  decides  to  listen  and  eyes  drift  off  in  a  sadness  at  the  new  realization  beginning  to  make  her  heart  sink  into  her  stomach.  "...i  don't  think  i  can."  she  announces,  the  volume  on  her  tone  finally  dropped then turns back towards the blond but she's staring at his chest rather than at him to refrain from crying even if she begins to tear up anyway.  "i  don't  feel  comfortable  with  strange  women  undressing  themselves  routinely  in  our  own  home,  but  it  would  be  selfish  of  me  to  put  you  in  a  predicament  like  that.  make  you  stop  doing  something  you've  been  doing  long  before  you  met  me  and  enjoy  doing.  but  there  is  just  something  about  it,  that  will  endlessly  bother  me  about  it  and  i  won't  lie  to  myself  about  that  any  longer...  i don't want to hold you back and cause you misery. so  no,  i  don't  think  i  can."  she  swallows  the  lump  in  her  throat,  holding  the  knife  at  her  side  while  the  chilly  air  blows  in.  the  coldness  of  it  slipping  through  the  thin  material  of  her  diner  dress,  but  the  only  thing  keeping  her  from  falling  into  a  numb  and  an  even  more  reckless  state  of  mind  that  scenarios  like  this  have  a  good  way  of  putting  her  in.  doesn't  know  what  else  to  do,  where  to  turn,  how  to  mend  something  that  can't  be  changed  from  their  differences.  and  she  understands  she  would  be  insane  to  let  a  person  like  jack  dawson  go  simply  over  what  his  job  calls  for,  but  she  supposes  she  can't  get  over  her  fear  it'll  one  day  leave  her  being  betrayed  when  he  meets  the  right  person.  her  fears  of  being  hurt  fueling  her  to  run  and  leave  before  it  happens.

𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄  𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗌  𝗈𝗎𝗍  𝖺𝗇  𝖾𝗑𝖺𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽  𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁,  forced  and  dry,  followed  by  a  shake  of  his  head.   ❝   oh,  so  now  i  fall  under  the  same  category  as  your  mother  because  i  don’t  think  breaking  things  is  the  right  or  mature  way  to  deal  with  anger?  very  interesting,   ❞   he  sighs,  deciding  that  he’ll  stop  treating  her  like  a  child  once  she  stops  throwing  tantrums  like  one.   ❝   no,  you  didn’t.  you  attacked  me.  there’s  a  difference  between  having  a  conversation  and  throwing  ridiculous  accusations  at  your  boyfriend.  and  you  know  what  else,  rose?  being  angry  still  doesn’t  give  you  the  right  to  destroy  everything  in  sight.  maybe  your  mother  put  up  with  that,  but  i  won’t.   ❞   he  pats  the  pockets  of  his  jacket,  making  sure  he’s  got  everything  before  he’ll  walk  out.  keys,  wallet  —  the  essentials.   ❝   i  can  draw  them  with  clothes  on.  i’ve  done  that  many  times.  but  there’s  nothing  special  or  particularly  controversial  about  it.  if  you  want  to  make  it  big  in  this  city,  you  kind  of  have  to  shock  your  audience  in  one  way  or  another,   ❞   he  explains,  rolling  his  eyes  because  he  can  already  tell  that  she  won’t  understand  his  point  of  view.  he  could  talk  for  hours  and  she  still  wouldn’t.   ❝   i  don’t  care  about  those  girls,  rose.  when  you  come  back  to  your  senses,  take  a  look  at  what  else  you’ve  destroyed  and  you’ll  understand.   ❞   wincing  when  the  notebook  hits  him  in  the  shoulder,  he  could  turn  around  and  throw  something  else  at  her  but…  he  has  to  disengage,  remove  himself  from  the  situation  before  it  gets  even  worse.

❝   you  don’t  get  to  tell  me  what  to  do.  we  can  both  leave,   ❞   he  huffs,  annoyed  with  how  she’s  pushing  him  out  of  the  way  just  so  that  she  can  be  the  first  to  leave,  like  it’s  some  sort  of  competition.   ❝   just  try  not  to  stay  near  central  park  after  dark  ‘cause  i  won’t  be  there  to  punch  some  creepy  hobo  in  the  face  when  he  tries  to  take  advantage  of  you,   ❞   he  grumbles  almost  automatically,  telling  himself  that  she’s  a  grown  woman  and  should  be  able  to  deal  with  the  consequences  of  her  own  choices.  however,  it’s  a  dangerous  city  they  live  in  and  he  can’t  help  but  worry  about  her  safety,  no  matter  how  upset  he  is.  what  kind  of  boyfriend  wants  his  girlfriend  to  get  mugged  or  hurt  in  any  way  just  because  he’s  angry  with  her?  when  she  grabs  his  arm  to  try  and  squeeze  past  him,  he  turns  to  face  her  and  curls  his  fingers  around  her  wrist.  gently.   ❝   rose,  wait…   ❞   he  takes  a  deep  breath,  shaking  his  head  to  push  the  sandy  bangs  out  of  his  face.   ❝   let’s  get  back  inside.  what  are  we  doing?  let’s  try  to  talk  it  out  once  more,  okay?  come  on,  let’s  not  —  i  hate  fighting  with  you,  rose.  and  i  hate  parting  ways  like  this.   ❞   if  anything  happened  to  her  tonight,  he’d  never  forgive  himself.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime — Epilogue // Wanda Maximoff

chapter fourteen | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad

author’s note: the final part is here! thanks again to everyone who stuck around with this fic, i really appreciate it 😊💗 now enjoy!!

The sound of a rooster crowing pulled me from my slumber and I groaned when I realised I definitely wasn't getting back to bed anytime soon.

Quiet laughter came from beside me and I didn't have to open my eyes to know that Wanda was finding my disgruntled self entertaining.

"I said yes to the chickens," I mumbled tiredly, not opening my eyes as I stupidly thought it would let me contain my sleep for a little bit longer, "but I should have drawn the line at the rooster."

Her fingers grasped my shoulder as she rolled over to hover above me. I squinted through my tired eyes, seeing the amused smile on her lips as she looked down at me. Despite how much of a morning person I wasn't, I appreciated how beautiful she looked with bed hair and a nightie.

"Shut up," she said jokingly, and I closed my eyes again. "You love them."

I rolled my eyes beneath closed lids. "I'd love to cook them, sure."

She slapped my shoulder gently. "Don't talk about Nikolai, Vanya and Sonia like that!"

A smile ghosted my lips. The first thing she'd done when getting the damn chickens was name them the most Sokovian names she could think of – I shouldn't have expected anything less. Though, now it meant she was extremely attached to them.

"My apologies, love," I mumbled.

She hummed disapprovingly before putting her whole body weight on top of me and hugging me. I sighed contently, resting an arm around her waist and appreciating the feeling of her so close to me. I could have fallen back asleep in this position if it wasn't for Wanda's wide-awake, curious self. Why did she have to be such a morning person?

"So, what are your plans for today?" she asked, fingers scratching against my shoulder blade tenderly.

I exhaled calmly. "I'm going to attempt to fall back asleep right now... then I'll let you know afterwards when I wake up."

She didn't say anything after that, and I was stupid to believe I'd gotten away with it because she suddenly got up and straddled me, jumping up slightly and startling me awake.

"Wake up!" she ordered, too hyper for my sleepy self.

I groaned, rubbing my eyes and finally opening them to see her looking down at me with a grin, hair falling around her face. There was a hint of annoyance in my expression as I narrowed my eyes, but she ignored it as she rested her hands on my chest.

"I hate you," I muttered.

"You're up now, so let's do something," she insisted, making me roll my eyes. "We should go on a walk. It's pretty outside. The sun's rising and it'll be fun!"

The sun's rising because its bloody dawn and that damn rooster crows at the same time every day, leaving me disgruntled and annoyed.

But of course, I didn't have the energy to explain that to Wanda, so I simply shook my head and closed my eyes. "Maybe tomorrow, Wanda."

She suddenly leaned down, jolting me slightly and making me open my eyes. She was inches away from my face as she pouted.

"Not tomorrow, now!" she exclaimed loudly, before leaning forward and peppering kisses all over my face.

I sighed, keeping her stable by resting a hand on her waist, but not appreciating the fact that falling asleep would definitely be a challenge now.

"I love you, Wanda, but please keep it down," I said quietly, still not used to her energy so early in the morning.

"Tell me what I can do to wake you up," she said sternly, stopping kissing me and sitting upright again.

"Absolutely nothing, love."

"Oh? Nothing?"

I hummed and closed my eyes again, getting used to her weight on top of me and deciding I could probably fall back asleep if she was quiet long enough. Wishful thinking, of course.

Her fingers found mine and she slowly lifted my hand, putting it underneath her dress and on her thigh. I knew what she was doing – it was cute – but it wouldn't work.

Not even bothering to open my eyes, I said, "Wanda, darling, we've been together for three years. I am able to resist your charm, believe it or not."

"Really?" she asked challengingly, letting go of my hand and resting hers on my shoulders. "I don't believe you."

Before I could counter her with a response, she leaned down and began nibbling on my ear softly. It was a sensation I was familiar with, but I refused to let her get her way, so I ignored her stubbornly. She knew me too well though, as she let go of my ear and trailed kisses down my neck before sucking on the skin sensually. Admittedly, I was a lot more awake then I was thirty seconds ago, definitely aroused by the gorgeous woman on top of me, but she couldn't win this. Not when she was playing very unfairly.

"Wanda," I said with a warning tone, squeezing her thigh and signalling for her to stop.

I should have figured that would provoke her even more, as she manoeuvred herself so her knee was now pressing between my legs. I'm ashamed to admit that I gasped into her shoulder at the sudden pressure, and judging from the quiet laugh she let out, she was very much aware of the effect she had on me.

"I told you you couldn't resist," she said knowingly, raising her head from my neck so she could meet my eyes.

Hers were darkened with pleasure and mischievousness, darting to my lips. I glared at her.

"I really hate you."

She shook her head, tongue wetting her lips, as a playful smirk stared down at me. "No you don't. Now lose the nightdress, moya lyubov' (my love)."

I tried to retort, but she closed the gap between us, lips capturing mine in a heated kiss. I definitely didn't mind being woken up like this...

—

After actually getting out of bed, I reluctantly agreed to go on a walk with Wanda, strolling around our premises and making the most of the countryside we lived in. As much as I didn't want to admit, I was glad she'd dragged me outside, since the morning stroll only made me appreciate our home more.

When we returned, Wanda went to her studio whilst I made us some tea in the kitchen, hoping to warm us up after the slight chill in the Autumn air. I joined her soon enough, smiling when I saw how involved she was with her work in no time. The studio was big enough for her to make a mess and it not seem so messy since it was spacious enough. I shouldn't have expected any different – Wanda couldn't tidy up to save her life.

"One day I'm going trip over your things," I announced as I stepped over some loose materials by the door, teacup and saucer in hand.

She chuckled, though her attention was still on her painting. "When that day finally comes, I'll clean up. Promise."

"Of course," I muttered sarcastically.

I stopped behind her and studied the painting she was working on. It was a close-up of a flower bed, with intricate details being put in the flowers themselves and ladybirds flying around. Wanda sensed my presence and accepted the tea from my hand, smiling at me gratefully before blowing on it to cool it down.

"Is this that commission you got last week?" I asked curiously.

She nodded, unaware of the paint streaks on her face. I rested a hand on her shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smiling at how adorable she was.

"The guy is paying double for me to put twelve ladybirds in the painting," she explained with amusement. "He wants to be able to count every single one."

I snorted with laughter. "Wow. That's very strange."

She shrugged, though I knew she was thinking the same. "A commission's a commission... is it evil if I only put eleven in?"

I laughed, nodding. She glanced up at me with a bright smile on her lips.

"It's very evil," I told her, before squeezing her shoulder.

She grabbed my hand on her shoulder, holding it comfortingly. "D'you want to do some gardening later?"

"Sure. I've just gotta do some work on my manuscript first. The writer's block is real."

"Of course," she said, giving me a knowing look. "Best-selling authors don't just become best-selling authors without putting in the work."

I rolled my eyes at her comment, but a smile played on my lips. "I'm leaving now."

She chuckled and I pressed a kiss to her cheek, trying not to get paint on my lips.

"Good luck with the writing," she said as I began to leave.

"And you with the painting," I called back.

Today was nothing special – probably a regular day when it came to Wanda and I's lives – but it made me smile. If the past three years had taught me anything, it was to be grateful for the mundane.

After Wanda broke things off with Y/B/N, it took a while for both of our families to recuperate. In their eyes, Y/B/N had broken things off because he wasn't interested in Wanda anymore, hence our parents' reaction. And Wanda's parents were upset because they believed it was her fault that Y/B/N wasn't interested, hence their reaction.

Our relationship with the Maximoffs was inescapable though, since Y/B/N and I were authors of theirs, so we had to mend what was broken. The only person who knew the truth about Wanda breaking it off with Y/B/N, apart from me and him, was Pietro. He didn't know why, but he knew that it was Wanda's choice.

After things calmed down between our families and everybody's anger had faded, around about the time that my second book was released, I'd saved enough money from the sales to buy a place of my own. With my father's help, I was able to buy a cottage in the countryside – the perfect place for privacy and to do my writing.

It was surprising that I got help from my dad, since I half expected him to be against the idea. But he was so proud of me for achieving all I had that he was happy to help. So, I got my own place and the first thing I did was invite Wanda to live with me. Nobody really saw it as more than two friends living together, especially since Wanda had started selling her paintings under a male pseudonym. Her parents were only reluctant because they wanted her to get married, but after she told them that she didn't want to and stood her ground, they left her alone.

I think they realised that they couldn't exactly stop her, and if they tried to, they'd lose their daughter in the process. So, to Wanda and I's excitement, we were moving in together...

"Are we there yet?" Wanda asked for the millionth time.

"Terpeniye (patience)," I told her, and felt her smile beneath my hands that were covering her eyes.

"Nice pronunciation," she commented, and I couldn't tell if she was teasing or not.

We finally stopped before the cottage and I was buzzing with excitement. I'd chosen it with Wanda in mind, a surprise for her, since I knew she'd only ever wanted to live in a place like this. What better way to give her that then now with me?

"Okay, this is it," I announced, removing my hands from her face.

I stepped beside her, leaning forward to see her reaction. She was raising her eyebrows with surprise, taking in the appearance of the front of the cottage. It was in a lovely field with tall trees and colourful flowers surrounding it. Vines had overgrown the bricks, but it looked stunning and I hoped Wanda would think the same.

Her lips curved upwards into a grin of disbelief. "This is it? This is ours?"

I pulled the key from my pocket and held it out towards her. "It is. All ours."

She laughed wholeheartedly, jumping up with excitement before grabbing the key and pulling me into a hug. I laughed alongside her, returning the hug, before pressing a kiss to her cheek and motioning to the door.

"Do the honours and I'll show you around," I told her with a smile.

She was practically beaming as she moved to the door, opening it. Her excitement only intensified when she saw the living-room it extended into, a large fireplace in the centre of the back wall and the furniture already in place.

"We can change the décor," I told her as I showed her around. "This came with the place, but we can change it up to however we want."

"I love it."

I intertwined our fingers, admiring the sparkle of delight in her blue eyes as she looked around the place eagerly. That was the look that made this whole thing worth it.

"You've not even see the best bit," I said, before tugging her into the hallway. "There's a kitchen and our bedroom and of course, a study for me, but this is the bit I know you'll love."

She watched with curiosity but allowed me to skip the other rooms and show her the room that I envisioned as her art studio. It was a spacious room, filled with random, old furniture from the previous owners, but I ignored it and stepped further inside, facing Wanda.

"This can be your studio!" I exclaimed, motioning around me. "Look, here can be where your desk can be." I pointed to the left wall, the space in front of it. "You can get some shelves put here for your supplies. And here–" I pointed to the space before the window at the back, "–is where you can paint on your easels. The natural light will be perfect!"

She followed my every move, hanging onto my every word, and nodded along with a joyful expression.

"I can't believe you've already thought about it," she admitted.

"Come here," I said, waving my hand for her to join me. She did and I wrapped an arm around her waist, stopping before the window. "You see that?"

"The perfect view," she realised, eyes wide as they took in the view of the garden, which I planned to show her next. "It's beautiful."

"You can paint everything there," I said with a nod. "The trees. The flowers. And this place isn't far from the train station, so we can take some day trips, too."

She leaned into my side gratefully. "Y/N, I love it. All of it."

My heart fluttered as she said that, it being all I wanted to hear.

"We can also get the coop for the chickens you wanted," I reminded her, before pointing out the window. "Right there. We'll get fresh eggs and they're cute – what's not to love?"

She pulled apart, arms still laced around me, and I waited to see what she thought. Her eyes twinkled in the sunlight coming from the window, matching the smile on her lips. Then she moved forward quickly, kissing me hard and leaving me no chance to react before she pulled away.

"I have no words," she said softly, caressing my cheek. "I'm so grateful."

My face was warm as I smiled shyly. "I'm glad. You know I'd do anything for you."

Her smile widened as she leaned in again. "Thank you."

Moving in with her was the best thing to happen to me, and my dream of being published had come true, so that was saying a lot. We both knew we could never get married and be together in public, but this was the next best thing. We had our own little slice of heaven to merely be, and it was perfect. She could paint as much as she liked and I could write as much as I liked, the two of us making a living and not having to rely on husbands we didn't love.

The only people who knew about the truth of our relationship was Steve. I knew I could never trust my family with the truth, knowing liking women was very different to becoming a writer. So, I was content with them living in denial about why Wanda and I lived together. Wanda was the same with her parents, but it was a few months into moving in when she decided she wanted to tell Pietro.

I was obviously hesitant, since Pietro was a standup guy, the reason I was even as successful as I was, but I wasn't sure if he'd be okay with discovering his sister liked women and I was the one she was with. Wanda was certain he'd understand though, since he was her twin and would only want the best for her. Plus, according to her, he loved me, so he wouldn't have a problem with it.

He was her twin at the end of the day, and nobody knew him better than her, so I trusted her to tell him and decided we could do it at dinner, inviting both him, Steve and Peggy over. Peggy didn't know about Wanda and I either, but I wanted to tell her, so we decided to do it together...

"We've been here three times and it still makes me jealous how peaceful it is," Peggy complimented as the five of us sat around the kitchen table. "No annoying neighbours. No nosy townspeople. It's perfect."

"Thank you," Wanda said with a friendly smile. "That's why we love it, too."

"Are you all finished?" I asked, standing up to grab mine and Wanda's plates.

"Oh, please, let me help," Pietro offered, about to stand up, but I shook my head.

"It's okay, I've got it," I politely declined, before stacking the plates together to take to the sink.

I glanced at Wanda and she gave me a knowing look before clearing her throat and looking to her brother.

"Piet, can you help me with something in my studio?" she asked him casually. "There's a lightbulb I can't quite reach."

He nodded and wiped his face with his napkin. "Er, sure." He looked to everyone else. "If you'll excuse me."

The two of them left the kitchen, leaving me with Steve and Peggy. I distracted myself with putting the plates in the sink before popping the kettle on, knowing they'd want tea.

"Dinner was lovely, Y/N, thank you for tonight," Steve started, easing the tension he knew I was feeling. I'd told him my intentions before inviting them and he was completely okay with the idea. "You and Wanda seem to be more and more comfortable every time we come here."

I leaned against the counter as I smiled gratefully at him, knowing he was giving me an opening to tell Peggy the truth.

"Yeah, we are," I said, eyes flickering to Peggy's as she watched on with interest. "We, er..."

My mouth went dry as the words I'd practiced in the mirror this morning escaped me. I'd only ever told Steve about Wanda and I, and that was by accident. I knew Peggy wouldn't judge me, but it was still terrifying to admit.

"Y/N, sweetie, are you okay?" Peggy asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, sorry..." I just had to say it. No more overthinking. "Wanda and I are together. As more than more friends. I'm in love with her."

Peggy raised her brows with surprise, barely believing it, but then she glanced at Steve and knew I was being serious. I let out a breath of relief, glad that I'd finally said it.

She stood up from her seat and I was half-afraid she'd leave altogether, but she didn't. She walked to me and pulled me in for a hug, squeezing me gently.

"Thank you for trusting me with such an important thing," she said, pulling away and smiling at me gently. "I guess it makes sense. You both compliment each other well and make each other happy. It's beautiful to see."

"Thank you," I said, returning her smile. "That means a lot coming from you."

She nodded and glanced at her husband. "I take it Steve already knew."

He raised his hands in defence. "Hey, I basically figured it out myself!"

She rolled her eyes playfully and I couldn't help but laugh.

"He did," I backed him up. "And he was the only person to know, so I owe him a lot. He gave me the support I wanted when I had nobody else."

Peggy smiled endearingly at Steve before looking to me with kind eyes. "Well, now you're not alone. You have me, too."

"I know. I'm glad."

"Does anybody else know? Or is it just Steve and I?" she asked hesitantly.

"Just you two," I explained. "My family would never understand. Especially with Wanda and her history with my brother. Same with her family. But she's actually telling Pietro about us now. I can only hope he'll take it well."

Peggy was certain as she said, "I'm sure he will."

I made tea for all of us and joined Peggy and Steve at the table as we waited for the Maximoff twins' return. Eventually, Wanda returned with her brother in tow and judging by the smile on her face, I could only hope it went well. Though I noticed the tear streaks on her cheeks and joined her side with mild concern.

"Are you okay?" I asked, grabbing her hand, but I didn't get chance to hear a response as I felt myself being lifted off the ground.

"Y/N!" Pietro exclaimed in my ear, hugging me from behind. "Welcome to the family, sestra (sister)!"

He set me down and stepped beside his sister, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and tugging her close. A grin was directed my way as Wanda's cheeks dusted pink. She was glowing with happiness, her brother's opinion mattering the most, and it warmed my heart to witness.

"I see things went well," I noticed, before smiling at Pietro. "Thank you, Pietro. It means a lot to have your support. Though you know this doesn't make me your sister, right?"

"Yet," he pointed out, making me sigh. "You know, I always suspected you had the hots for my sister, but I could never be sure."

Now it was my turn to flush with embarrassment, especially when Steve and Peggy laughed from the sidelines.

"Wanda's happiness is all that matters to me," he continued, looking to his sister with a genuine smile. "I'm glad she picked the right Y/L/N."

I chuckled awkwardly, eyes falling to a nervous Wanda. "Me and you both, mate." He laughed, patting me on the back, and I gave him an appreciative nod. "Seriously, though, thank you, Pietro. Your approval means a lot."

"No problem," he said with a shrug. "I'm always here if you need me."

"As are we," Peggy added, before looking to Wanda. "Both of you. Anything you need, ever, just let us know. It's what we're here for."

"Thank you," Wanda said for both of us, and when she looked my way, I knew she was thinking the same thing I was.

We were lucky that the most important people in our lives knew the truth about us and were supportive. We couldn't have asked for anything more.

—

As promised, after spending the morning on my manuscript and Wanda with her commission, we went into the garden to do some gardening. And by we, I meant I was doing it as she attempted to help out beside me.

"Hey, I think there's something stuck here," Wanda said, fingers stuck in a pot of soil.

"Then pull it out," I said like it was obvious, trying not to laugh.

I continued to rake the plant beds before me so I could eventually plant some vegetable seeds when Wanda's adamant voice spoke up again.

"I think you should check it out, Y/N, I can't seem to get it."

"Wanda..."

"Come on!" she insisted, and I sighed dramatically before dropping my rake and heading towards her.

Kneeling down beside her, I took a peek in the plant pot and put my hand in, rooting around until my fingers found something metal.

"It seems to be a ring," I realised, pulling it out and dusting the soil off it. "Maybe the suppliers of the soil dropped it in accidentally. Or maybe a bird dropped it in the pot without you realising..." I chewed on my lip with thought. "Huh. Well, here you go."

I gave it back to Wanda and prepared myself to stand back up, but Wanda groaned and facepalmed.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" I asked with an amused smile.

She looked up at me through parted fingers. "It's my ring."

"How many times have I told you to stop wearing rings when we're gardening?!" I said questioningly, shaking my head. "Stuff like this always happens!"

She rolled her eyes and looked up to the sky. "Why am I in love with an idiot?"

"Wanda–"

"It's for you," she said, holding out the ring.

I furrowed my brows. "Well, why didn't you just– wait." My eyes widened as I realised what she was implying, feeling stupid for not realising sooner. "Is this– are you– huh?"

Wanda swallowed nervously before clutching the ring tightly and meeting my gaze. "I've been in love with you for a long time, you know that," she said softly, her accent thick with emotion. "The time we've spent here in our little safe haven has been the best of my life. And I... I know we live in a world that won't let us be together. But that hasn't stopped us."

My heart was hammering in my chest as Wanda offered me a small, nervous smile. We'd never talked about marriage since we were so content in our little bubble, but clearly she'd thought about it without me knowing. I guess I had, too. But I never expected either of us to do anything about it.

"I know we can never really be married, but what is marriage if not a union between two people who are in love anyway? I mean, we basically already have that." She snickered to ease her nerves, then licked her lips shakily, eyes tearing up. "I'm asking you to marry me and if you say yes, I'll know you're my wife and that's all that'll matter... so Y/N Y/L/N. Will you marry me?"

I didn't even need to think about it. Wanda was the love of my life and just like she'd said, the past three years had been the best. We could never truly be married in the eyes of the world, but she'd be my wife and that would be enough. She'd always be enough.

"Of course I will, Wanda," I answered, tears of happiness slipping from my eyes.

She raised her eyebrows. "Yes? You said yes?"

I laughed, nodding, and leaned forward to kiss her. She returned the favour, salty tears mingling between our lips, but it didn't matter because she was going to be my wife and that's all I could think about.

Our smiles broke the kiss and I wiped her tears away with my thumb before pressing another kiss to her lips.

"Here, let me put this on you," she said between laughter, hands fumbling as she tried to find mine.

I put out my hand and let her slide the ring on my finger. It was a simple silver band with a small, elegant gemstone sat on top, perfect for someone like me who didn't like anything too flashy.

"It's beautiful, Wanda, thank you," I said, smiling through my tears.

"I've been wanting to ask you for a while, but I wasn't sure you'd say yes," she admitted.

"Are you joking? Why wouldn't I?" I asked with an exploding happiness in my chest. "I'm so bloody in love with you, Wanda Maximoff."

She laced our fingers together as she nodded in agreement. "That's good. Because I'm in love with you, too."

And when she said that, it wasn't unlike anything she'd told me before. If she wasn't telling me she loved me, she was showing me in all sorts of ways. But this was different... this was the first time she'd told me as my fiancé. And then she'd soon be my wife. And it made me realise.

I'd spent so long thinking that if we were in a different life, we could have had it all. But we were getting it all now, so maybe, just maybe, this wasn't the wrong lifetime after all.

FIN.

[ray-ray-writings]

can i request an imagine in the dream smp where the reader is tommys older sister and when he gets exiled she goes to visit him to ask him to come live with her (she lives away from the town to stay out of drama) but when she get there she sees dream destroying all his stuff so she fights him and tells him lo leave tommy alone then takes Tommy home with her (i just want to protect this small child sm) thank you 💕 i really enjoy your writing

Thank you for the request friend! I’m so sorry that it took so long to complete, but I hope you enjoy. 

Bring Him Home-Brother!Tommyinnit

As soon as you were able to, you moved out of the DreamSMP. Don’t get me wrong, you loved your family and wanted to be around them, but you just couldn’t handle the drama. You’d known Dream for a while and you knew that with him slowly gaining control of the SMP that things were definitely going to take a turn for the worst sooner or later. And as you predicted, it had. 

You kept up with everything that your brothers had done throughout the years, supporting them from the comfort of your home, thousands of blocks away from the action. You received letters from all four of the men in your family, but none more frequently than your younger brother Tommy. 

Tommy told you everything, kept you updated. The two of you had always been rather close, bonding over feeling slightly abandoned by your father. You became a source of confidence for the young blonde, someone he could tell anything and everything to. Someone he could joke with but also be vulnerable with. He didn’t visit you often, but when he did the two of you made the absolute most of it. 

This is why when you received the distress letter, you dropped everything to make your way to him. 

Tommy’s weekly letter came and you eager opened it and let your eyes scan the words as fast as you could, eager to know what he and Tubbo had gotten up to with the new responsibility of the country on their shoulders. But as you read, your eyebrows furrowed. The sloppily written words seemed rushed as Tommy explained to you the result of what he thought would be a practical joke. He tried to assure you not to worry though, Ghostbur had come with him and Dream visited everyday. 

You carefully set the letter down on the countertop and stare off into the distance as you begin to ponder your next move. You ignore Tommy’s “assurance” and allow the worry to fill your veins. Ghostbur wasn’t the same as Wilbur, he wouldn’t be good at taking care of your brother. And Dream wouldn’t be much better, he was the one that put him there for goodness sakes. 

The coordinates that Tommy had included in his letter tempted you as your eyes scanned over them…. That’s not too far from where you were. Maybe half a day's trip… You could go visit him. And technically, he never states that he has to stay in that particular location for his exile. If he wanted to, he could come home with you. 

With that thought, you’ve made up your mind. You quickly pack up some materials, food, water, building blocks, your weapons and armor, before picking the letter up and exiting your home. Your eyes scan the cords again before turning and beginning your trip to Tommy. 

Like I said, it’s only about half a day’s trip and so you get there when the sun is still high in the sky. You sigh in relief as a pitiful pitched tent greets you, at least Tommy wrote the cords correctly. You pick up your pace slightly, eager to see your brother. Your pace turns into a sprint when his loud shouts fill the air, followed by an even louder boom. 

You draw closer to his camp and you find Tommy standing across from Dream, the two are staring into a hole, Tommy on the verge of tears and Dream holding a flint and steel. “Why would you do that?” Tommy cries out, “I worked so hard to gather all that stuff! Why do you keep coming back and blowing it up?” 

“I’m sorry, he does what?” you growl out before you can stop yourself. Both of their heads snap to you and Tommy gasps in excitement at the sight of me. He shouts your name and rushes toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, burying his face in your neck. You wrap your arms around him too, hugging him just as tightly in return.

“I missed you so much Y/N,” Tommy mumbles against your skin, and you can tell he’s trying not to cry. It really had been a long time since the two of you had seen each other. 

“I missed you too Tommy… Missed you so much,” you coo in response, placing a comforting hand on the top of his head, pushing him closer to you, subsciously wanting to hide him from Dream’s stare. 

“Y/N… this is a surprise,” Dream states sheepishly, pocketing the flint and steel before rubbing the back of his head and looking at the ground to avoid your glare. 

“Oh I’m sure it is. You don’t expect anyone to come and stop your plans anymore, do you Dream? You take what you want without even considering what other people might do. Well guess what Dream? I’m not scared of you. I’m really not. You may have everyone else wrapped around your little finger, but I’m not buying it. Now, I’m going to need you to leave me and my brother alone now, and not come back.” 

Dream looked like he was about to protest and tell you off, but a harsh glare from you makes him shut his mouth, gulp, and nod. “I’ll see you later, Tommy,” he mumbles, turning on his heel and stalking away from the two of us. I watched him and held Tommy to me until he was out of sight, and then even a few moments after that. 

You let out a sigh and released your tight grip on your brother and let him pull himself away from your chest. “Thank you for that… What are you doing here?” 

“What? I have to have a reason to visit my baby brother?” 

Tommy simply raises an eyebrow at you and crosses his arm across his chest which makes you sigh. “Okay, well maybe I’m here for a reason… I wanted to see if maybe… maybe you wanted to come live with me?”

Tommy’s face immediately lightens and his arms uncross at your offer. “I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just know that the two you mentioned in your letter wouldn’t be that good at looking out for you, and I meant what I said, I missed you and so I thought that maybe if you needed a place to stay while your in exile, you could stay at mine… but like I said you really don’t have to if you don’t--” 

You ramble is cut off by Tommy throwing himself back into your arms, making you wrap your arms around him in return. You two hug for a few moments before you hear Tommy mumble. “You mean it? You really want me to live with you?”

Your heart breaks at the fact that Tommy needs confirmation that you want him in your home. “Yes Tommy. I mean it. I want you to come live with me. I wouldn’t have come or offered if I didn’t want you.” 

Your answer seems to satisfy the boy because he asks you no more questions. You press a small kiss to the top of your brother’s head before letting him go from the hug. “Now, go get packed up, I’d like to get home before sundown and that will only happen if we leave within the next half hour.” Tommy pulls himself away from you and give you a small smile and quick nod before he shoots away from your side and begins to shove the things that Dream hadn’t blown up back into his inventory.

You wait patiently as he gathers his belongings around the camp. Once he’s all packed up, he moves to stand by your side and gives you a nod, “Okay! I’m ready.” You return the nod and wrap your arm around him. The two of you begin the journey back to your house. As you two walk, Tommy begins tot tell you everything that he wasn’t able to it in his letters, all of the small details and the funny stories that had happened in between each major event. You let him. You let him ramble about anything that pops into his head and you listen. You had missed your brother so much. And now you were able to bring him home. Who knows, maybe he’ll like living with you so much, he won’t leave… that wouldn’t be too bad. 

Welcome home Tommy. Welcome home.

[qyllenhaal]

❛ Bunny ❜

Series: The Devil I Know

Senator!Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k~

Summary: Reader Surprises Chris on their week long vacation together with something that he's been begging for for a long time

warnings: 18+ only!!! Unprotected sex, daddy kink, dom/sub elements, roleplay, creampie, breeding kink, cumplay, age gap (reader is in her late 20s)

A/N: I'm hoping to start taking requests soon! I've been so busy with life that my ideas for this series are drying up.

Enjoy!

Y/n would be a damn liar if she said she wasn't turned on by the roleplay idea that Chris brought to her and the way he kept calling her his "bunny." She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes at first, it just sounded so ridiculous to her, but the more she thought about it. the easier it became to envision it happening.

Her in a Playboy bunny costume sounded so basic to her, but the excitement in Chris's eyes showed that it meant something to him.

She felt guilty as he explained how boring his sex life was before meeting her. He was trying to make her feel better about the idea, and feel a sense of pride, instead she felt loathsome. She wasn't able to determine if she felt more sorry for him or his wife. Their marriage was dying anyway and was going to die whether or not Y/n was in the picture, but she still felt awful about being the final death blow to their multi-decade marriage. He wanted to take her up to his father's cabin up north while his wife stayed home? It sounded good in theory but something about it made it hard for her to say yes.

"C'mon, you deserve a break. You've been working your ass off to get Withers primaried and you actually have a chance of unseating him. Don't you think you should relax? You work so hard all the time honey."

It was all too enticing to say no; to be whisked away from an entire week and ravished by her lover.

"There she is," he teased when he saw that smile forming on her face, "I knew you'd come around to it. I'm going to make sure you don't lift a finger, and you get to taste my famous ceviche."

He kissed her cheek and let her get back to work before she could come up with a reason that causes her to change her mind.

Y/n kept her excitement to herself but she was over the moon. Once she let the guilt simmer, she began to fantasize about the possibilities of an entire week of having Chris all to herself without interruption. They'll be able to act like a normal couple if only for a week.

She got herself through two weeks of more tough work, but it was fulfilling to know that she was succeeding in her work, and that she had a trip with Chris on the horizon.

He hadn't brought up his little idea since she'd agreed to go on the trip. It seems as if he forgot all about it as his shock that she said yes had consumed his thoughts. Y/n couldn't let it go though. She couldn't stop thinking about it now that they were going to be gone for an entire week. She could wear that little get up for days and give him a sight that's going to be etched into his brain until the day he dies. Y/n loves that she has that effect over him; the ability to make his heart race and his cock hard with just a simple look.

It was not a cheap costume to buy because she didn't just want to buy any regular costume that could be bought at party city. No, she wanted something that was better quality and could endure Chris attempting to tear it off her body. She paid extra for the shipping so she had it in time.

When it was finally in her possession, she stared at it in awe. She was tempted to put it on, to see how she looked in it, but she wanted it to be a surprise for both herself and Chris. The material it was made of felt nice; the entire costume looked like it could've been owned by a real playmate. It wasn't often that Y/n felt overwhelmingly sexy, but she did just simply staring at the costume in its precious box. Chris was up in age, she hoped he didn't have a heart attack.

-

"It's so beautiful up here."

When Chris said a cabin up north, she didn't think all the way up north in Maine. But it was perfect. Only two weeks into fall but the trees were filled with vibrant red, orange, and yellow leaves.

The cabin was near a river that held the reflection of the trees. It seemed as if it had gone untouched for years, but it was filled with pictures. Y/n could pick out the face of a younger Chris in some of the photos, but everyone else was unrecognizable.

"That's my grandfather," he interrupted her thoughts when he caught her lingering on a particular picture.

She glanced at him before bringing her eyes back down to the image again. "You look so much like him," her fingers skirted across the glass. She felt a weird pang of longing hit her in the stomach. It's as if Chris wasn't just a few feet away from her. Maybe what she felt inside was shame disguised as something else.

"C'mon," he grabbed the framed picture from her hand and placed it back where she found it, "I wanna show you something."

Y/n trailed behind him, her hand in his, as he guided her through the house and up the stairs.

Chris led her upstairs and to another set of stairs. He took her to a dusty attic which somewhat confused her. Then grabbed a box that looked older than her.

"Remember that time you tried to show me that constellation...what was it...Be- Belt- B-"

"Betelgeuse."

"Yea that was the one," he took the top off of the box and she peered into it, "now you can show me other star thingys in the sky."

She laughed but wrapped her arms around his neck. It was an unsuspecting gesture from him, but she welcomed it nonetheless. He could get really sentimental at times and it would just make it harder on her that she couldn't publicly love on him.

"It's great Chris. Let's just hope the skies are clear one of these nights."

He smiled and kissed her cheek for the nth time today.

"Alright. I'm gonna go get started on my famous ceviche. You enjoy yourself however you want. Walk around, explore the place," he stroked her cheek before leaving her alone to go get started on dinner for the two of them.

It had been a long day of driving and all Y/n wanted to do was go to sleep, but something was buzzing inside of her. She hated that Chris's dinner and "famous ceviche" was probably going to go to waste because if her plan works successfully then he isn't going to give a damn about dinner.

Y/n made sure she packed the box holding the costume at the very bottom of her suitcase. She held her breath as she held it up in the air and stared at it. She's sure that she could wear a garbage bag and Chris would still want to fuck her but she couldn't stop herself from being so nervous about putting it on.

She did it anyway and was relieved when what she saw in the mirror looking back at her wasn't so bad. In fact, she looked sexy. The look was complete with the bunny ears and bowtie. She wore a simple lipstick, one that was going to be smeared later on, paired with coats of mascara. At the end of night Y/n wanted to see the proof of his handiwork.

Even though she knew he wanted this, she was nervous about how he'd feel about her "act". She's been deliberating for a week whether or not she should go all the way with the fantasy but why not? Chris deserved it after convincing her to come on this trip. Besides, he works hard too.

"Hun, the food is ready!"

A few seconds of silence didn't make him flinch, but after a few more minutes passed and he didn't hear footsteps coming down the stairs, he was confused. Another call of her name resulted in nothing but silence; she didn't even respond to "Button."

She could be asleep, he thought, but he was still curious. If she was then he could at least catch a glimpse of her sleeping peacefully, put the food away, and then come join her.

"Y/n?" His voice got softer as he approached their bedroom. It was cracked enough for him to see that the light was on. He pushed it open and there his girl was. On the bed and dressed like she stepped out of his dreams.

"What is this?" His laughter was mixed with interest and disbelief. Just some time ago she was vehemently saying "no!" regarding his idea and now she was dressed like a Playboy bunny.

"Do you like it, daddy? I got it just for you."

Chris felt himself hardening in his jeans. Sheer tights stretched over her thighs and he just wanted to rip it off her body. She looked good enough to ruin.

"Of course I like it Button," he cooed as he approached her waiting body on the bed. He touched the material of her outfit still in a state of disbelief. This was his ultimate fantasy.

"I'm glad you like it. I did it just for you daddy," her voice was soft, girlish, and coquettish as she palmed his cock through his jeans. He swears he could cum just from this if she kept it up. He grabbed her hand to stop her.

"You're a naughty little bunny, aren't you?"

"Nooo daddy I've been good," she inched herself backwards on the bed before slowly turning onto her stomach all the while keeping eye contact with him, "I've been a good girl."

"I suppose you have," he didn't even try to argue against her claims. That pout on her lips made him incredibly harder.

Chris ran his hands over her ass and she mewled softly at his warm, strong hands on her. Y/n closed her eyes, a cocky smile on her lips knowing that she probably turned his brain into mush. She pushed her ass into his touch for more.

"The things I want to do to you..."

"Tell me daddy. What do you want to do to me?"

"Uh uh, you don't go demanding things around here. You've been a good girl, but I can easily change my mind. I can make you take my fingers and edge you while you wish it was my big cock splitting you open, but I don't think my bunny wants that."

She pouted and pressed her face into the bed. Chris chuckled at how easily her demeanor changed. He put his knees on either side of her legs and grabbed her hips to drag her ass to his pelvis. She gasped at the swift movement whimpered when he started to mime fucking her.

"Oh baby you look so good like this. I don't know if I want to keep you all pretty and in this costume while I fuck you, or take it off of you and ruin that cute little face of yours."

He had plans to do both, but he liked to hear her whimper when he told her about the utter filthy things he was going to do to her. If she thought he was going to rip it off of her without savoring how good she looks then she's wrong.

He's so grateful that he packed that polaroid Y/n gave to him as a birthday gift. It was how he got around her "no pictures" rule. She never let him take pictures of her, not even on the second phone he bought just to contact her. How could he not document how she looks after cumming hard for him? Or when he leaves a trail of white all across her bare chest? He often had to rely on his memory, but he planned on this trip being different.

"Stay just like that Bun."

Y/n broke her character for a little bit, rolling her eyes and relaxing her arched back when he left the room. Sometimes he did little things that annoyed her, but the way she jumped back into her character when she heard him come back showed her that the annoyance was just a façade.

"So perfect," the camera's shutter fired and the camera spit out the first ever photo he has taken of her.

Y/n wanted to protest against him, but she stayed silent. It wouldn't hurt to have a few polaroid's as keepsakes; she even looked back at him and made eyes at the camera.

Chris could spend all day photographing her, but the strain in his pants was becoming too painful. He placed the camera down and stood at the edge of the bed.

"Come put that pretty little mouth of yours to use."

Y/n hopped up from her position and found herself on the floor in between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed. She clumsily fumbled with his belt and fastener on his pants. "Eager little bunny, slow down a bit," he taunted.

She tried to listen, but she's desperate to get him in her mouth. His hard cock springs out from its restraint and almost hits her cheek. She gasps lovingly at the pre-cum seeping from his blunt head. She wanted to taste it, but she didn't do it without Daddy's permission. Instead she wrapped her hand around his length and squeezed him.

Chris watched her stare at his cock in awe, like she wasn't already familiar with it. She gave him a few languid pumps and he sighed at her soft touch. He thought about how beautiful it would be to paint his cum across her breast. She looked like an absolute sex-pot; it was hard for him to control himself.

"That feels so good, bunny. You're such a good girl — keep pumping me...a little faster bun... good girl," his praising voice was as smooth as a cat's purr. Y/n felt the presence of her arousal when her sex pressed against the material of her costume.

The pre-cum oozing from his tip made her mouth water. He didn't instruct her to do anything further, but she couldn't stop herself from wrapping her lips around his length. He didn't seem to have a problem with it either because he sighed and pushed her mouth further down on his cock.

"You're so beautiful like this bunny...my precious girl," he cooed between breaths.

Her mouth felt like heaven, her warm tongue laving him with saliva and washing pleasure over him. He felt the muscles in his lower abdomen spasming as she sucked on him faster and feverishly. The concentration on her face was so cute to him, but greatly juxtaposed by the light makeup that was beginning to smudge on her face.

His cock hit the back of her throat and she gagged on him. Y/n tried to pull herself off, but he kept her still, forcing her to relax her throat while he filled her mouth.

"That's it girl — fuck — you're going to make me cum. Is that what you want? Me to cum down that pretty throat of yours?"

Y/n tried to shake her head no and say out loud, but she was muffled by his cock. She loves to watch him jerk over her tongue or other parts of body until he cums, but she wanted him to cum while he was fucking her; he could always paint her tits later.

"You don't want me to cum down your throat bunny? Where do you want me to cum?"

Chris knew she was unable to answer, but that was apart of the thrill. His ego was through the roof and the sense of power he felt because of this was astounding. She made him feel so many things at once, but all he was concerned with now is seeing her body shiver with pleasure.

He let go of his physical grip on her and she took the opportunity to come up from her. Her lips were pink and there was a line of saliva collecting her mouth to his cock.

"Look at you, so pretty," he petted her as he stared into her eyes that held a glossy look of desire for him and him only, "get on the bed bunny."

He wanted to worship her. He wanted to make her cum over and over again until his name was the only thing left on the tip of her tongue. As she laid out on the bed for him, in a costume just for him, he wondered how he got so lucky with her. They were so different, but they were somehow meant for each other.

"You're so gorgeous," his hands glided down her stocking-covered thighs. He squeezed her flesh and he groaned as if he could feel what he was doing to her. She made him dizzy just from how beautiful she was.

Y/n's body anticipated every stroke of his hands on her body. He didn't leave an inch of her exposed skin untouched. He touched and looked at her like she might disappear at any moment. It was his mission to memorize how her body feels under his touch.

"Daddy," she whined, not being able to stand to ache between her legs anymore. She isn't sure what she wanted him to do, she just wanted him to do something.

"Be patient, sweet thing. Let me take in how beautiful my little bunny looks."

"You like when I dress up for you, daddy?" She further parted her legs as a suggestion for him to place himself between her legs. Chris picked up on what she was doing, but he didn't follow through.

"My perfect little bunny," his voice trailed off as he palmed her breast through the costume.

Y/n moaned and arched into his touch. It wasn't long before he was pawing at the top of the costume to free her breast. The costume was tight against her body, but he managed to get what he wanted. He cupped her tits before he leaned down to wrap his lip around her nipple. His thumb teased the other one, stroking it to life. Her delightful sighs sounded heavenly.

"Feels so good," Y/n whined. She tried to grind against him in desperation but he wasn't having any of it. More of his weight was pressed against her to keep her still. He switched over to sucking on her other nipple. His eyes met hers before lightly closing from the feeling of ecstasy.

The mess that was forming between her legs was becoming unbearable. Y/n knew for a fact that she soaked through her costume and with just one swipe of his hand, Chris would be able to feel it. She didn't say anything but she was just so impatient and wanted him to give the same attention to her sex. But he wanted to savor her in this costume before he takes it off of her and just fucks her in the bunny ears.

"This body is so perfect."

As his hands slowly slid across her stomach, the cogs began to turn in her head; she wanted this night to fulfill all of his fantasies.

After taking his sweet time with her body, Chris was finally getting her out of the costume. It won't be the last time she wears it this week, but it was bittersweet to see her out of. However her body alone was driving him wild. She still had the bunny ears on which made her look incredibly cute.

"My lil' Bunny has been so patient for me," he kissed her cheek before moving to kiss the front of her throat, "I'm gonna reward that pretty pussy of yours."

Y/n felt the lust boiling over as Chris moved down her body and his was finally home between her legs. "You got so wet for me bun," he taunted her. His fingers prodded at her slit but didn't push in all the way like she needed. It was torturous to tease her when she had been such an obedient girl for him.

He didn't keep her waiting for long. His tongue was diving through her silky folds to get a good taste of her.

"Undress daddy, baby."

The gruff of his voice made her feel even wetter. She often teased him for being so much older than her but oh did she love all the psychical manifestations of his age. The grey in his hair drove her wild, and she loved how grey his beard was whenever he grew it out.

She grabbed at his soft cotton t-shirt and pulled it over his head. The light dusting of grey hair on his chest tickled her fingertips. She couldn't stop herself when she leaned in to nip at his collar bone. Her lips were so sweet on his body making his head spin. She started tugging at his pants while her lips were still on his skin. He did most of the work, but he didn't care, he just needed to be freed of his restricting clothes.

Y/n wrapped her hand around his cock and gently pumped him.

Chris sighed into her ear, "wanna cum on my tongue or my cock bunny?"

"Your cock daddy! Bunny needs your cream inside of her," she whined.

He thought about fucking her the entire drive; his mind thinking of all the things they could do alone, but he never thought he be blessed with this.

"My little bunny wants my cock? You want to get on all fours and show me how dripping you are?"

Y/n nodded her head, eyes wide with lust and her bottom lip slightly poking out.

"Good girl. Show daddy just how pretty you are."

She moved from his arms and laid her head against the bed as her ass stuck in the air. Chris got off the bed and stood against the very edge. His strong hands laid gently against her ass and he pulled her puffy lips apart with his fingers.

"Fuck girl," he groaned, unable to contain the desire he felt," you're dripping. You're dripping for daddy, aren't you? I thought you were a good little bunny, but only slutty bunnies get this wet."

Her body tensed when his left thumb dragged against her clit. It was swollen and so sensitive to his touch.

Chris's cock was hard and ready to be inside of her warm silk. He had brought the condoms that felt like nothing along with him; two boxes since they were going to be together for six more days.

She heard him tearing something up, but she looked back at him and reached up at him.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?" He furrowed his brow but still held the half ripped condom wrapper in his hand.

"No condom daddy. I want to feel all of you."

He groaned and he felt his cock become impossibly harder. They had gone back to condoms because Y/n said stopped taking her birth control when she stopped speaking to him, believing that they were possibly going to stop this relationship. She also said she was going to start again, but he just could not remember if she said her doctors appointment was happening this month or next month.

"Are you on the pill?" His tone had a hint of excitement to it, but ultimately he was concerned; she was always strict about protection.

"I don't know," she said feigning innocence, batting her lashes at him and wiggling her hips in anticipation for his cock. This little character she decided to adapt was driving him crazy.

"Don't lie to me girl," he gripped her arm and she whimpered. His rough handling of her had made her even wetter.

"I'm not! I really don't know daddy!"

She knew, and he knows that she does, but he was too weak by the sight of her bent over in her little bunny ears with her wet cunt exposed to him. Her ass began to sway from side to side, calling him to come closer. But what she wanted him to made him think to himself: 'is she fucking crazy?'

"I need you so bad daddy. Please ruin your little bunny," her voice was sweet as candy.

Chris always wanted her but something about this unlocked a deep hunger inside of him. The risk of this made his heart race and sweat form on his skin, but he wanted this just as bad as she did.

"Baby," he placed a hand around his cock to help guide it inside of her, "I'm gonna ruin this pretty fucking body of yours."

He fully sheathed himself inside of her and Y/n sighed with tenderness. The small touch of his hand on her lower back felt so incredibly intimate and she was grateful that he convinced her to come on this trip.

"You feel so fucking good girl," he pulled out just a few inches only to push back in, "I'm going to fill you up. Is that what you want, pretty baby?"

Y/n is unsure what is more taunting: the tone of his voice or his increasing pace. Both of his hands now grabbed her hips and she swooned over how large they felt holding her. He dragged her back onto his cock until he was nearly pounding her. Each thrust was ruining her softly.

His thrust became more wild as he felt her walls grip his entire length. She felt so warm and wet around him. He missed being bare inside of her, feeling her entirety from the inside.

Soon her little bunny ears were falling off of her head as he fucked her hard. There was something so intoxicating about ruining everything that's so perfect about her. He loved that she gave him permission to do so too.

"Look at me," he said through gritted teeth. He grabbed her arm and forced it against her back. Y/n twisted her upper half to look up at him. She placed her hand on top of his for a glimmer of intimacy in this moment of nasty brutal fucking.

"I'm gonna pump you full of me, bunny. Good girls get all my cum."

Every time he slid home inside of her, stretching her completely, she cried out louder. Her thighs trembled and shook with each thrust into her. He was fucking so hard it was almost mindblowing. She always teased him for being an "old man" but he was proving that his age didn't hinder him from pounding into her.

He was getting closer and closer to slipping over the edge. She just feels so warm and tight around him, her contracting walls inviting him to cum inside of her. He loved being able to see her face as she hit every spot inside of her that made her toes curl.

"I feel that pussy tightening up," he spoke breathlessly. He tried to concentrate on his words but her wet cunt rendered him speechless. "Cum for me bunny."

Y/n began to meet his thrust. Lust bloomed in her stomach when she imagined feeling him empty inside of her. They were so incredibly close and if they kept this up they could cum together.

"Give it to me daddy" she whispered, staring back at his face, "please cum inside of me...I've been such a good girl...I need it so bad."

Chris's thrust got sloppy as the muscles in his lower abdomen began to spasm. His entire body felt like it was on fire. Y/n started cumming around his cock and her pussy tightening up hugged his cock and milked him. "Fuck!" He grunted loudly as he fucked the both of them through their orgasms.

Despite her body being too hypersensitive to take anymore, she whimpered when he pulled out of her.

"Keep that ass up in the air."

Chris grabbed her ass cheeks to spread her open. "Push it out for me bunny." His cum came seeping out of her hole and slid through her folds. He spread it around her sex with two fingers before pushing it back into her hole. She gasped when she felt him slide back into her. Her walls clenched around his fingers, still hungry for more. He wanted to fuck her again, but he was too tired to go again.

"You're going to wear me out girl," he joked, laying next to her on the bed. She looked just as tired as him but that look in her eye indicated that she was completely satisfied.

"It's been a long time since you've fucked me like that. I think I should wear that costume more often."

He placed his palm against her face and she leaned into like she always did. She closed her eyes and felt lulled by the sound of his now steady breathing. This moment together felt like it could last a lifetime. Y/n wishes that they could just stay here forever instead of a week. If she never had to think about an empty promise ever again, she'd be content for the rest of her days.

[shivada-jade]

reply back

modern!au/idol!au

characters: aether, lumine mentions: venti, xiao, kazuha, barbara, azhdaha warning(s): swearing because lumine and aether are siblings

notes: i've been lACKING these idol au's so im gonna write more idol au's because i nEEED it

You were seven when you were introduced to the twins. Coming from a foreign land, you struggled with the language they spoke in, but they were patient with you and taught you their language and much more. The twins were multilingual and explained it was from their frequent traveling and relatives from different places.

You and the twins were close, but Lumine spent more time with you, making Aether whine a lot. He would always poke sticks at you and hide your legendary, full art Pokemon cards to catch both Lumine's and your attention. It does work, but Lumine's mad.

"Aether!" She'd scream with a lisp because of a missing tooth. "Stop doing that!"

Oh, but Aether is a sibling, meaning he'd play the 'innocent' card. "Stop doing what? What am I doing?"

In the end, you'd always have to call their parents when they fist fight at the sand pit. "Aether and Lumine's mom! They're fighting again!"

"Again?" The tall blonde sighed. "Thanks for telling me, hon."

After a good scolding, Aether and Lumine would be totally okay the next minute like nothing happened. You were used to their banter and rightfully took your Pokemon cards back. Lumine stuck a tongue out, blowing a raspberry at Aether when he turned his back, grabbing three large sticks.

"Fight me!" He cried with glee, giving one stick to his sister and one to you. "I will be the grand king of the sand pit!"

You vaguely remember the rest. Maybe you lost the 'sword duel,' or maybe you didn't, but what you did remember was this tall kid playing with his cat and eating the sand. Forget the kid, the only thing you remember is his cat's name called Azhdaha.

Your hands close your story book. You would never admit to your friends, but Lumine and Aether that you still read fantasy. The other kids in the neighbourhood would laugh saying what you were reading is a kid's story.

"So what if it's a kid's story? If you like it, read it," Lumine says aggressively while Aether opens the door for both of you.

"Lumi's right. They think they're all grown up, but they're kids too," he closes the door behind him, waving goodbye to your grandma rocking on the porch. "What's the story about anyway?"

You walk ahead, leading the two to a local mall. Every week, Aether, Lumine and yourself would spend Fridays and Saturdays together.

You and Lumine often joke how Aether doesn't do 'Saturdays are for the boys.' To which, Aether would scoff and reply with, "Boys who say that are stupid, not all but most. Saturdays are for spending time with people you care about. I don't care if they think I'm weak."

You step foot in the bus, tapping the card to pay for your admission. The twins, walk behind, doing the same and sitting next to you on the bus.

"It's called 'Songs of a Siren.' It's cool, you should check it out." You say, scooting a bit closer to the side so Lumine could have more pace to sit. The bus is packed. Teenagers littered inside, only a few adults were there including the bus driver. "Let's leave. Teenagers stink."

"...But you are one."

"Well-"

After the next stop, you push yourself through the crowd, trying to exit. Lumine pushes people, muttering a few 'excuse us' while dragging her brother. Your feet land on the concrete sidewalk and you finally breathe freely.

You see the twins finally get off the bus and tilt your head, "Let's go, the mall isn't gonna wait for us."

Entering the mall, the first thing you pass by is a clothes shop. You and Aether share a look, quietly doing rock-paper-scissors behind Lumine who's beaming to go inside.

Rock.

Aether chooses paper.

You droop to the floor because you're dramatic, knowing that once you go in the shop, you'll be the one carrying Lumine's purchases.

"Alright, Lumine," you say sighing. "Let's go shop."

You see Aether in your peripheral vision, pumping his fist laughing a quiet, "Yes!" when Lumine takes out her wallet.

"I know you did rock-paper-scissors." She counts the bills from her wallet, "But I'm buying for Aether which means even if you carry the things I buy, Aether's gonna have it much worse because he will be trying on everything I tell him to wear." She grins, settling with a black debit card.

After hearing this, Aether tries to walk in another shop to avoid dressing up for Lumine, but his sister quickly catches on and pulls him by the ear and walks in the clothes shop.

"Let's go!" She says to you, "These clothes won't shop themselves!"

...

"This one?"

"No, you look like grandpa in that outfit."

"Well what if I like looking like grandpa, huh? What are you gonna do about it?"

"Some people can pull off the sexy grandpa look. You're not 'some people.'" Lumine pulls out another outfit from the rack. "Try this one," she laughs, seeing Aether's horrified face and pushes him in the dressing area.

This is the ninth clothes shop you three go to, and you were starting to feel bad for Aether who had to wear every outfit Lumine wanted him to wear.

"Lumi," you say calmly, having trouble holding five shopping bags on each arm. She's on a shopping spree and you wonder how she gets all the money to buy these things. "That should be enough shopping for the day. I'm hungry."

The blonde lifts a hand. "Hold on a second," she smiles before banging on the changeroom door, "AETHER LET ME SEE THE FIT."

You can hear the loud sigh from the other side of the door as it slowly opens. He only peeks his head out, shyly mumbling, "This is embarrassing. I don't want to walk out like this."

Lumine rolls her eyes and pulls the door open, revealing Aether in a white dress shirt and dark pants.

Aether lifts an arm, inspecting the design. "It's a bit..." he pauses, thinking of a way to not offend his sister. "It's not my style." His eyes seek for your help to back him up, but you couldn't. The style on him looks so ethereal to him, and Lumine has the same idea.

His twin ran up to an aisle and picked out two accessories: a silk cloth and a floral pin. Lumine shushes Aether who tried to punch her.

"Shut up Aether, you'll look great." She pins the black rose onto the front of his shirt and ties the silk cloth around his neck. She steps a few steps back, making a rectangle shape to symbolize a picture frame and elbows you lightly. "He looks okay for once."

Okay is underwhelming, but to describe Aether better, he looks celestial. The warm studio lights hug every angle of Aether from head to toe. His golden eyes seem to brighten more and the outfit only accentuates his physical traits more.

From the corner of your eye you spot a tall-ish man who has been wandering past the same aisle but never picking anything up. He wears ordinary clothes- a T-shirt and jeans (rather stylishly), but you know from his incoming aura he's more than just an ordinary person.

You tap Lumine discreetly while still holding onto her shopping bags and tilt your head towards the man.

Aether, who keeps picking on the cloth around his neck goes frigid when the strange man walks up to him.

"Hey kid," he says cooly. He looks Aether up and down, lifting his shades to see clearer, and pulls out a small business card from his pocket. "You look like idol material. Ever thought about being a part of a boyband?"

Out of politeness, Aether takes the card and laughs nervously, "Not really" He looks at Lumine and you for help, but you two pretend to not know him when he turns to you.

The man shoves his hands in his pocket, blowing a bubblegum and popping it. His hair slightly tousles when he turns, waving a hand.

"If you ever do decide if you wanna be an idol, auditions are held next week at 10AM," he saunters off. "If they ask who recruited you, tell them a man by the name of Valentin did."

His lavender irises looks back once more before leaving the store, "The people from Teyvat Entertainment are introduced by my very hands. Don't disappoint me."

The automatic sliding doors open for him and he waves the store greeter a goodbye.

You see Aether's eyes scanning over he card Valentin gave. His lashes flutter quickly, signaling you and Lumine he was either shocked, or confused.

Lumine grabbed the paper, a habit she picked up due to being a twin and having to share everything with Aether who won't share. Her lips part, showing the card to you.

Teyvat Entertainment.

A company who created the world's famous DCKZ and the idol, Barbara. Teyvat Ent. has one of the youngest, top rookies of the year because of a group called TVT Dream. A company with many celebrities' and the business card is legit.

A store worker no older than your age meekly walks up to the three of you and asks, "Hey, uh. Are you ready to purchase your clothes?"

...

Aether shoves Lumine (don't worry she shoves him 10x harder) on the stairs while you watch from a safe distance.

You wave hello to their mom before waltzing into their home like you did many other times. You were their third child in their mom's eyes.

You slam the twins' room open and lay yourself on the bottom bunk of their bunkbed. "So do you wanna check Teyvat Entertainment?"

You fish out your phone from your pocket and hand signal for Aether and Lumine to come close to see. Your phone turns on, showing the lock screen of the twins in their embarrassing toddler moments then unlock it. Quietly laughing at the twins who have their faces beet red from the photograph.

"Why do you have that pic? DELETE IT."

"Did mom give that to you..."

You ignore them, opening up Google and typing in the Teyvat Ent. website and search their contacts. You ask Aether for the business card, comparing the two numbers side by side, and Valentin is indeed one of the scouts for the company.

You shut your phone off, hugging the two siblings together tightly. "Whether Aether decides he wants to be an idol or not, we'll still be the best of friends."

Lumine grins, squishing your cheeks, taking a closer look at you. "Well, duh. Are you scared we'll fall apart? No, if anything you should be scared we're never going to leave you alone even if you're 60 and married."

You pinch her cheeks and start to say something until you hear sniffles and coughing. You turn to Aether who was hiding his tears.

"Shut up, I'm not crying." He harshly wipes away the water falling from his eyes, "When I go famous, I'm going to give you my autograph so you can sell it and eventually get 20 cars and houses."

...

You were a teen when the dark-haired Valentin scouted Aether to be a trainee in Teyvat Ent.

You note that without Aether, their home is extremely quiet. It's odd not seeing Lumine scream at Aether for taking her hair clips. It's odd not seeing Lumine aggressively pull on the colourful flower hairclips on Aether's hair, just to get the clips back. It's so odd not seeing Aether is general.

Lumine scrolls through her phone, looking for furniture to add to her new apartment she shares with you. The only thing in the newly bought apartment is three mattresses, three plates, and three cups, just in case Aether visits. Though, Aether visiting is rare. His visits only happen during December for Christmas, but even then he had not visited. It's been two years since you and Lumine last saw him.

You stare at your last sent messages to the blonde boy.

▶ hEY. (threatening)

YO

▶ take care okay? lumine's worrying all the time for ur health bc she keeps watching yt vids on how idols over-do themselves from training

haha thanks for telling me

are you sure it's not you who's worrying 🧐🤧

the last thing lumi sent to me was "FUCK YOU"

▶ well the last thing you sent to her was "U BUTT"

▶ and she took that seriously

are you siding with her?

▶ yes

oh okay, frick you too seen three months ago

Your feet pad against the wooden tiles, grabbing a glass of water while scrolling through twitter. You lift the glass to your lips and almost choke from the water you drink.

You click the link on the phone with the title "Debuting boy band already claiming the hearts of many! Please welcome 4nemo!" Four boys stand in the picture, one being Aether.

You place your glass to the sink and run to Lumine, sitting next to her and who her your phone. She reads it over and visibly shakes. You swear she was about to cry until she takes the phone from your hand and starts throwing it, "AETHER THAT BITCH. HE DEBUTES AND SAYS NOTHING."

You're mortified and pull your friend away from your phone, "THAT'S A NEW PHONE, STOP." You push her away and run to your device, clicking on the link.

"One, two, three! Hello we are," Aether, the familiar blonde says.

His group members follow after him. "4nemo!" They say in chorus. One by one they start introducing themselves.

"Hi I'm Aether!"

"Kazuha," one says with a raise of a hand.

An energetic member steps up with a grin, "And I'm Barbisabeto!"

"He's Barbatos, forgive him." Teal undertones make it's way to the camera, "Hello, I'm Xiao.

The one with twin braids step up, mischievously grinning. "Please take care of us and support us during our journey through the music industry."

His teal eyes squint behind the camera, whispering to the member behind him. "Psst, Xiao. I can't read I'm blind."

Xiao rolls his eyes and steps up, slightly bowing, "Please support our debuting group, we will see you in our music videos."

But Lumine and you never paid attention to what they were saying. Both of you just started crying insults of endearment to Aether because he looks so... different. His face had mature and he's a real idol now.

Reality sinks in.

Now that Aether had a growing fanbase, it's going to be harder to contact him.

"Lumine, how are we going to talk to him now?"

Lumine ponders a bit, resting her chin on her hand before smirking. "Let's create an Aether hate page."

"Yes, let's do it."

After a quick recording of Lumine and yourself, you posted the video online, and soon enough, it goes viral.

Lumine laughs, replaying the video.

"This one's for the boys with the booming system," You say monotonously in front of the camera like what you said was a speech instead of a song. "Top down, AC with the cooler system."

Lumine comes on screen, flipping her middle finger at the camera. "When he come up in the club, he be blazin' up. This one is actually not for the boys with the booming system. This is for the BITCH, AETHER WITH THE BLONDE BRAID. Look at you with your ugly ass smile," She speaks in one breath and it amazes you. "Make sure you get millions of hits or it's all for nothing. Oh Aether's an ass."

The screen shows your hand scooping the phone up and waving good bye with Lumine still dissing Aether.

You nudge Lumine, showing a comment written at the bottom of the video, covering a laugh.

"who's aether?"

"huh??! aether?"

"lOL Why Does The Person On The Left Look Like Aether?"

"OH 4NEMO DABUTE. SHUTUP YOU ANTI. THEY'RE GORGEOUS. YOU'RE THE ONE UFLY" ➡ "ahisfdh you obvi didnt watch the whole video. she said "make sure get millions of hits"

Lumine grins, commenting at the people calling her ugly and Aether way better looking. "Lol, IKR. the one on the left is trying too hard to look like Aether. it's like shes tryna be a twin or smthn"

Though, because of your viral "hate" video, 4nemo's popularity sky rockets because of the unknown 'Aether' of the group.

...

Aether watches the video on the news channel, because that's how popular the video got. He looks at his manager, "Can I send a hate video back?"

"Aether, no."

But the winds are troublesome as the ocean, because a boy with teal tips on his hair snatched the managers phone, running and giving it to Aether. "AETHER. DO IT RIGHT NOW."

...

It was a shock to you seeing people follow your twitter account.

"LUMI, [NAME], IM SRRY I LOST MY PHONE AND DIDNT WANNA TELL ANY1 OR THEYLL GROUND ME," said the tweet, tagging you in comments.

Lumine doesn't have twitter, so when she looks over your shoulder seeing the tweet with her name on, she grabs the phone and locks herself in the bathroom, "R U FR AETHER?U DIDNT REPLY TO MY HAPPY BDAY. WE SHARE A BDAY DUMBASS"

She calmly unlocks the door, giving your phone back casually while you whine, "Lumine! This is twitter! They're gonna cancel me!"

"I'll cancel them back."

Ding! You receive a post with you name under the comments again.

hello, i have to apologize for our member stealing the manager's phone to tweet that. i swear that kid's the most responsible, but he's been triggered. #kazuha

You quickly type back, under the hashtag 'kazuha.'

"@/4nemo sorry uh thats one of ur members twin & shes mad that aether never gave her a bday present when she gave 1 to him #kazuha"

notes: psst here's where i got aether's outfit inspo when they were outfit changing at the mall

[asavt]

Another cookie squad Headcanons

Featuring Sparkling, Vampire, cellphones and the Espresso and Madeleine Story of how they came together. Consider it an AU now baby!

-As a note, when I say the squad I'm mostly referring to the adults, so no worries about Walnut or Creampuff useless I mention them too

-Each one of the squad has been in Sparkling's bar at last once. There's no need to say who has been there the most. Sparkling has a time every time someone besides Roguefort comes, because to him it's mostly like "Oh I'll finally know the continuation to the burnt toast accident or maybe the cat catastrophe? Maybe a new POV of the--"

He practically knows a lot of what happens in between the squad.

-As another note, Sparkling's bar is called Milabo (You know, like the song from Zutomayo of the same name, which, btw, I relate a lot to Latte)

-*A great part of this “AU” is kind of inspired by the song. Part of its lyrics and vibe.

-Vampire is there most of the time when the squad visits the bar (it's almost as if he never leaves the bar and this is definitely not me low-key putting sparkvamp in this oh no--) Sometimes the fakes his sleep to listen to the things others say (Which is how he knows most of Rogue's pan-ic).

-Walnut has been in Sparkling's bar too, but at day and for case-solving purposes only. Sparkling will give her some alcohol-free drink for free sometimes (mostly because he gets along pretty well with the nut family and because Almond usually pays him whatever he serves her).

-If the squad had cellphones (and probably an app like discord because.), their group chat would initially be called "Coffee mage appreciation group" and then be changed to "Coffee bean appreciation group"

Coffee Bean: Can we please change the group name and mine?

Guided by the Devine: No <3

Coffee Bean: Fuck you.

-*And they all would dedicate half their time to make fun of Almond but with love.

-Espresso has been mistaken for a dark mage before by Almond. It was how they meet actually. Almond had pulled him to interrogate him and got a long lecture on the differences between black magic and coffee magic.

-Madeleine gets along rather well with Roguefort. Rogue seems impressed by Maddie’s acting skills.

-Madeleine is currently living with Espresso. Out of his armor most of the time. He usually takes care of keeping the house clean and preparing meals (He never really had to cook before but the first dish he made wasn’t bad at all). Sometimes he will tag along Almond in the detective’s work, or Almond will ask for his help.

-I’m still unsure if I want the Almond/Roguefort/Latte to be romantic or platonic. But honestly? Both are good. Latte is pretty close to Almond and Roguefort but not in the way she is with Espresso (that makes them look like siblings jkashduawhu). Perhaps I’ll keep it platonic.

-The Espresseleine/Madespresso story of how they came together, because I seem to not be able to write it down JSHALDHUIWADWA-

--It happens after the Puppet Show mini quest. Madeleine starts to ask for Espresso's "assistance" in different mission that are given to him. Angel is there too, of course.

--During these missions is that Essy clarifies that no, they are not friends, no, he does not like Madeleine. Bringing up the knight begin too prideful and self-centered if not all then most of the time.

--Is not until one of their missions goes wrong, were Angel is knocked out and Espresso (seeing and knowing that if Madeleine is knocked down too they might not be able to go back to the kingdom ever) pretty much receives a rather big attack for Madeleine is that he kind realizes the facts given by espresso true. All while he is carrying Essy and Angel back to the kingdom, running and exhausted too.

--Clover begin kind of a mediator between the two (I want to see more of my son--)

--"Devine, protect us" Should happen too after this. An scenario like, Madeleine coming to think something like "I'm the shield, the one who goes on the front line and receives the blows for those who can't, always looking straight ahead... but if I am doing that then who watches my back? Who do I rely on and trust to take care of most enemies so the damage received is not overwhelming...?"

Power of team work baby!!!

--As a note to this, Maddie getting his cape damaged as well as his hair. So, you get short hair Maddie~

(I've been drawing him with short hair in secret now I have an excuse to show)

-- "You...cut your hair..." *Madeleine touches the points of it with one of his hands, pensive* "...pft it'll grow back!"

--There's also this "Search for your own light" thing between Angel and Maddie. Angel encouraging Madeleine to do so. Maybe Madeleine giving his best wishes to them for their wish to fly before they decide to part ways.

--Madeleine trying other ways to befriend Essy. Which at first Espresso mistaken as the knight usual attempts to befriend anyone he sees out of habit and attention seeking, but once they realize the feeling is completely genuine, Espresso is rather perplexed.

--"You can't just befriend people by buying them gifts (although I do appreciate them)" "Then what?" "hmm..."

--Said gifts used to be rather expensive things, simple though. Eventually Madeleine settles to just pass by Espresso's place, give him any food he had bought that day (which usually is glazed donuts), ask if he needs any help with something (getting a vase, materials, moving things), and if not then he just says his good byes, best wishes and silently leaves. (A note on the "silently leaves": Madeleine is pretty much used to speak loudly and enter loudly anywhere, he still does this at this point, but when it's about Espresso he is a bit more quiet, a bit showy over his entrances still, but less loud, and he actually knocks the door)

--Madeleine eventually manages to go out with Espresso to other places that aren't some place in the forest full of enemies. Probably after some more visits to his place and more calm talks between the two, Madeleine brings up that Espresso tends to act a bit cold or distant towards a lot of people, and that, although he understands his discomfort at begin in public spaces or too long out of his work, he should try and open up a bit. This reminds Essy of a certain friend he hasn't seen in some time, and from whom he keeps getting letters.

--Shenanigans.

--There's still some bickering between the two, always with a playful undertone though.

--Espresso explains Madeleine, one time the knight has gotten Espresso wrapped in a blanket burrito again and got him to bed, that sometimes, no matter how tired he might feel, he is simply unable to sleep. Part of a headcanon of mine that coffee magic has this side effect on it's users, prolonged usage of this kind of magic will induce a high caffeine kind of state, which on the long run can fuck up the user's sleep schedule. Madeleine understands this, but remains stubborn about keeping Espresso in the bed so at last he can get some rest from his work and clear his mind a little, the idiot falls asleep in the process and Espresso doesn't try to wake him up.

--This happens several times after, neither of them thinking of the implications of not begin bothered by the sudden closeness they share until it's too late.

--Espresso realizes first that he has slowly, yet nicely, fallen for Madeleine. I think I talked about this before but I'll do it again: Is in one of the times Madeleine has gotten Espresso to bed to get some rest, Espresso not begin able to fall asleep and Madeleine doing again. Is while he thinks of how he has gotten to know Madeleine for real, not the Knight Commander from a noble family or the Chosen by the Devine, but as he is, that he comes to think that "Ah.... I love him" and he remains calm about it.

--Espresso doesn't overthink it, just thinks that, if Madeleine ever got an interest in him, he would surely show it. So he waits. Even if in the end his feelings aren't mutual he knows he'll do just fine remaining friends.

--Madeleine realizes not many days after. And the realization hits him like a truck. Alone in his place and probably in bed looking at the ceiling thinking about Espresso. Once he realizes and thinks about it a bit more his face gets all red and chooses to scream in the pillow.

--He would think about telling Espresso as soon as he can, after all, he doesn't want his feelings to make their friendship weird. He values it, a lot. Maybe because his friendship with Espresso it's the first one where he genuinely wanted to become friends with someone.

--Espresso takes the confession calmly, gets all flustered after they kiss for the first time.

--As a few extras of this: Madeleine goes back to the Republic, asked to be seen by his family and Espresso goes to Parfedia, where a few students have applied to his class to his surprise. When they see each other again is at Parfedia (Madeleine sending a message to Espresso beforehand about his arrival) -there was this one drawing I did once of Maddie running to hug Espresso, something like that happens-. Madeleine gets very clingy for some reason, which they speak later and comes out as “Home doesn’t quite feel like home…” “Why is that?” “I don’t know… maybe I’ve become used to be around you”

--Espresso lets ends up letting Madeleine stay with him until he either feels like returning to the Republic or is called back, whatever happens first (though none will happen for maybe a year or a little more).

--Ends with Madeleine meeting Latte and Almond.

[juminsmysticmc]

Pregnancy Series - Part 3

Telling them 

Hey! So a lot of you have been waiting and I am honestly happy that you guys seem to like my pregnancy series! Please feel free to tell me your opinion with a comment or through a reblog ( I read every single # ) or just send me a message in my inbox! Hope you enjoy! 

Pregnancy Series: Part 1 // Part 2 

Jumin

You nervously rubbed your hands together as the weekend finally came.

Ever since Jumin married you, he decided to have his birthday parties only with you instead of throwing big parties with people he didn’t even like just because of his status.

But this time you prepared something special for him.

You decided to invite your father-in-law as well as the RFA, even Zen, at your place on the 4th of October to stay until Jumin’s birthday at midnight the 5th october.

For Zen, you even prepared your party room since your beloved cat wasn’t in every room of the big penthouse your husband owned.

And so you prepared everything without your husband’s knowing. To say it clearly, you made someone else prepare it because you were scared of hurting the baby, being overprotective since it took you so long to get pregnant.

Maybe you were too scared, but you knew that Jumin wouldn’t have wanted you to overwork yourself.

The room was decorated in gold and black colors and you also baked a big cake on your own, deciding to hide a long note into the cake, saying that you were pregnant. At the end of the note, a copy of your first picture of the baby was attached, showing Jumin that whatever was happening was real.

You knew that he would be more than happy to see this, to know about the baby you were carrying.

,,Finally ready,’’ you said and sighed, looking at your clock, knowing that at 8 PM everyone would come home to stay into the room before Jumin would come home with Jaehee from the office.

The first guest to arrive was your father in law. To your surprise, he didn’t take his girlfriend along, but since Jumin always had to prepare a second party for his status, your in-law promised you to bring her along the next day. Well, you knew that this wasn’t going to last for a long time, but to make the elder happy, you nodded and smiled, telling him that you were more than happy to be able to get to know her.

Lastly, Seven, Zen, and Yoosung arrived. Zen and Seven were arguing whether or not the red haired boy should kidnap his Elly.

,,I need to go home with you. You can’t take that fur ball with you!’’ he hissed.

You left the men alone for a second before you waited for the final guest - your husband, of course followed by Jaehee who just sent you a message about her arrival.

Jumin was puzzled at first when you invited Jaehee inside and led the way to another part of the penthouse, but since it was you who asked, it was okay, you were his wife after all.

The surprise party, however, made him emotional and you knew that Jumin was touched just by his mimicry and how he stood there, you knew your husband.

,,I have a present for you, but you will only be allowed to have it at midnight!’’ you teased him after he gave you a long, lovely kiss.

Staying awake almost four hours more was hard for you. Since you knew that you were pregnant, you were even sleepier, but for Jumin you could manage to stay awake. You had to.

,,IT’S MIDNIGHT! BRING THE CAKE!’’ Seven screamed in excitement, making you a bit nervous.

Yoosung carried the cake into the room after you kindly asked him to, as you all sang ,,Happy Birthday’’ to him.

,,Thank you, my love,’’ he whispered and kissed you again, ready to blow his candles.

,,Before you cut the cake, Jumin,’’ you said as he stood there with a knife already ,,here’s something you have to pull out. Read it out loud,’’ you said.

You pressed your lips together as you waited for him to pull out the long white note until finally the first words appeared. ,,I…..’’ he said, he smirked, thinking that the note was ,,I love you’’

,,A….M…..P...R...E...G…-’’ he looked at you in shock before he pulled the note even quicker out of the cake, seeing the last picture of an ultrasound.

For the first time, all members of the RFA saw Jumin Han cry real tears by the man they always called ,,cold hearted’’ as he hugged his wife and kissed her with a lot of love, thanking her over and over again.

,,This is the best present ever,’’ he hiccuped and kneeled down to kiss your flat belly.

Zen

,,You will surely be a good mother!’’ the chocolate lady praised you as she gave you the white chocolate with the baby sonogram of your baby.

You quickly went back in and prepared a few more things. The chocolate was ready, you thought you would now take a little package and put balloons around the chocolate so that it would float up as soon as Zen would open the box.

Since the chocolate was in a cute packaging too, you put a note on it saying to open it immediately to see the surprise.

You guessed that this would be the perfect Valentine’s Day gift.

Then you also decided to bake a few muffins, not just for Zen, but also because you wanted to slowly get used to the idea of baking cakes for your future child.

That evening, you tried your best to act normal because you were overloading with happiness and excitement.

The next day, you woke up pretty quickly. One of the reasons was because you had the urge to throw up and the other reason was because you wanted to drop the news as soon as possible.

,,Mc, did you get checked up? Like-’’

,,Hyun, it’s just a virus. That’s why I had to cancel our reservation at the hospital,’’ you groaned as you again had to empty your stomach.

,,Of course, baby,’’ he whispered, holding your hair as he kept rubbing your back.

At times like these, he wished you could be like him, healing and getting better quickly.

But he also knew that you were a strong woman and didn’t have any problems.

,,Okay, I’m better,’’ you gasped as you went to wash your mouth. The taste you had in your mouth wasn’t really yummy and so you brushed your teeth before you decided to give him his present.

,,Here, for you,’’ you whispered as you laid back in bed, feeling a bit lightheaded.

Zen’s eyes went soft as he saw the big box, placing it on the floor and sitting next to it to open the present.

Just like you wanted, the balloons flew up, pulling the chokolate up.

Zen quickly grabbed the present and read the note out loud.

,,I’m excited. I never thought that Valentine’s Day could become so special one day,’’ he laughed.

You slowly teared up as you thought about how much better and special this day would become.

Zen opened the chocolate and inspected the picture.

He stayed silent for a second before he looked up at you again.

,,Really?’’ he asked you, whispering as his tears found a way out.

,,Really, Hyun, really.’’

Yoosung

You hurried home after the appointment, thinking about the best way to tell your husband that you were pregnant.

After you decided to take a look at some Pinterest boards, you decided to sew a little baby out of his clothes.

You once saw it in a drama and it was, in your opinion, the cutest idea.

And so, you took an old shirt of his and went down to the city, buying some stuff to fill your baby.

It took you the whole day to sew that baby, to first cut the material, put it together in a little cute baby outfit, and patch it together.

You were really happy back then; your teacher taught you how to sew at the machine and your mother bought you one back then.

Right when Yoosung entered, you just finished the little baby.

You were proud of yourself and were more than happy that you could hide the present before he came home.

,,Hello, my wife,“ he smiled and kissed you, seeing that you were in a better mood than in the morning.

,,You haven't cooked yet? Wanna do it together?“ he asked you, seeing that nothing was prepared.

,,Oh, I need to be honest. I took a good rest today and I forgot that it was already so late,“ you lied.

,,It’s okay! I can also order some sushi or-”

,,No sushi!“ you called, looking away.

,,Can we eat pizza?“ you asked him, trying to hide the fact that you preferred to not eat raw fish.

And so you both did, although Yoosung was kind of puzzled when you didn’t take the wine you both usually drank while eating pizza.

The day went by and the next morning finally arrived. You were happy to wake up just in time to set the table, prepare the breakfast, and put his bag with the baby doll on his seat.

,,Happy eighth anniversary,“ he whispered and kissed you, hugging your body from behind, nuzzling his head in your neck.

,,Eight years already,“ you sighed happily and turned around, ready to give him a deep, lovely kiss on his lips.

Yoosung quickly sat down, giving you his hand over the table as he put some sugar in his coffee.

,,That’s for you,“ he told you, giving you an envelope.

You smiled.

,,The bag in front of you is from me for you,“ you told him, as if someone else could have made him a present.

The both of you decided to open your present at the same time.

And once again, you surprised each other.

,,You want to adopt a child?“ you asked him as he almost screamed ,,YOU’RE PREGNANT?“

You both laughed at the same time. Yoosung quickly got up from his chair, getting on his knees as he kissed your belly with tears in his eyes.

,,I knew it! No sushi, no wine! I knew it!“ he sobbed, stroking the place where his baby was supposed to be.

,,Such a little human being will grow up here. Can you believe it?“ Yoosung asked you.

You were also now sobbing, shaking his head as you stroked his fluffy hair ,,Finally, Yoosung, finally,“

Jaehee

Your girlfriend couldn’t wait to hug you, hold you in her arms and so, as soon as she caught a glimpse of you at the train station, she hugged you, sobbing into your shoulder.

It was cold outside and you luckily came back right in time before the holy days of Christmas.

Jaehee still hugged you when suddenly, something soft and cold touched your nose, making you look up into the sky.

,,The first snow,’’ you whispered, making Jaehee loosen up her hug and look up too.

She chuckled as she knew that you loved the snow.

A few seconds later, the both of you walked hand in hand towards your shop. Jaehee was happy as you seemed to be in a happy mood.

Your fingers felt hot as hers were entangled in yours, stroking the skin of your finger with her thumb.

,,Go and take a warm shower. I will make us some food,’’ she mumbled and quickly left you alone.

And so, while the warm water of your shower hit your body, warming you up and relaxing your muscles, you thought of a way to tell Jaehee that you two finally did it.

Suddenly, you got a very good idea. Lately, you were into sublime stitching and found it hard to find new things to stitch, but now that you had your first ultrasound, you finally had a new challenge to take!

You copied your first ultrasound and sent it to your favorite artist, who was more than happy to make your ultrasound into a pattern with ink.

Just like always, you ironed the picture with the hot iron on your fabric, but this time you didn’t buy the pattern and indeed used your own.

You smiled as you saw how good it worked out. You were really proud of yourself that the first step was already so well done! 

But you couldn’t keep going as Jaehee called you to open the shop with her.

And so the weeks went by. You luckily didn’t have any symptoms that could have ruined the surprise for Jaehee.

You wanted to give it to her as a Christmas present after all.

You kept stitching along the line, slowly and accurately so that everything would look nice and neat.

When you finally finished, you felt yourself becoming emotional. This was now real, this present and this baby was really happening to you and Jaehee, who waited for so long for this.

The last step was to wash the fabric so that the blue ink would disappear, making it look once again much more beautiful.

,,I can’t wait for Christmas,’’ you chuckled to yourself and put the present into a little box.

,,You really didn’t have to,’’ Jaehee whispered the morning of Christmas Eve.

The both of you sat on your couch in front of your Christmas tree.

It was warm and cozy in your living room as you both were wearing the same Christmas hoodies.

You excitedly looked over to Jaehee as she opened the box.

Her fingers followed every stitched line, her lips began to tremble and it seemed as if she couldn’t breathe calmly.

You were getting worried, but soon enough Jaehee looked at you.

,,Is that yours?’’ she asked her, her voice was cracking.

,,Yes. I didn’t have the flu or covid, I’m pregnant,’’ you laughed.

Jaehee hugged you, not too strong, stroking the back of your hair as she enjoyed the warmth of your body.

,,I don’t have such a great present,’’ she laughed and kissed your cheek.

Saeyoung

The birthday of the twins was slowly approaching. By now you were eight weeks pregnant.

You still had symptoms and felt sick. Sometimes you couldn’t even cook, making Saeyoung worry for you, but you knew that this was worth it.

You chuckled as you thought about your self made toy you prepared as a present for Saeyoung. It was a toy he had to play first before the news of your pregnancy would be announced.

It took you a while to construct everything.

It was a game where he had to put cards together. To put them together, he had to form different sentences in different languages.

Matching cards would give him a letter and afterwards those letters would give him the sentence ,,You will be soon a daddy!’’ but of course, he had to also form this sentence.

Since it was kind of difficult to perform this all in Hangul, you decided to make it an english game.

For Saeran, you prepared a little teddy bear which would say ,,Hello Uncle’’ but of course, he wasn’t allowed to open his present until Saeyoung played with his present.

The 11th of June quickly approached you guys as you woke up one morning. Luckily, you still didn’t feel sick.

You hugged Saeyoung as you woke him up with a sweet kiss ,,Good morning,’’ you whispered, making him groan, but not open his eyes.

,,Hello, how did you sleep?’’ you asked him when he turned his body to you and hugged you back.

,,Good, but being awake next to you is better,’’ he whimpered and almost fell asleep again.

,,Ya! Your birthday breakfast is waiting for you!’’ you hissed and laughed.

He immediately jumped up, yelling for his brother. ,,SAERAN, YOU ARE TURNING A YEAR OLDER!’’ he laughed, making you shake your head.

But you were happy that Saeyoung finally found his brother. You could just imagine how it must have been for him to miss his second half for all those years.

And even though Saeran didn’t admit it, he probably missed his brother too.

The three of you were sitting around the table as they ate their soup. It was a special soup for their birthday.

,,I will give you your birthday present later when the other’s are here too,’’ you told them both, making your husband especially sad. ,,You always want your present at midnight and now I have to wait?’’ he asked you, whining as you laughed at him.

,,It’s special, that’s why,’’ you told him, making him sulk.

,,My presents are always special,’’ he whined but didn’t say anything anymore as he enjoyed his food.

You were nervous as the RFA came one by one. By now, you guys were always together. You saw yourselves as a family.

,,Okay guys, because of you I couldn’t open my present!’’ he whined and finally unpacked the box. At first he looked a bit… puzzled, which made you chuckle.

You explained to him how to play and even persuaded him to play on his own.

,,Boring that everyone is watching me,’’ he mumbled as Saeran kept patting his present, you told him he wasn’t allowed to open it yet.

,,Is that german? ,,Wir müssen…’’ what?’’ he laughed.

But one by one he did it and finally had the single letters that would give the hidden message.

,,I am pregnant, I don’t even have to think about it, that’s the message, right?’’ he said and immediately looked up at you, already in tears.

By now, Saeran too, unpacked his bear and in a big family embrace, Saeyoung cried into your shoulder.

Saeran

After you were brought to the maternity ward and they did some more tests, it seemed that it was official that you were pregnant!

Saeran got up as soon as he saw you walking out of the big doors.

,,Is it something serious? It took you so long and no one wanted to say anything,’’ he whined and took your hand between his, massaging your palm as he slowly walked out with you.

,,I just had to wait a long time,’’ you lied and smiled at him, trying to convince him that you just had a mere virus.

And so the days passed again and you worked on a present for Saeran who was a soon to be father.

You put a lot of thought into it and decided that doing something handmade would be much better than just telling him.

That’s why you decided to give him something your baby would get - a handmade baby blanket with his favorite flower patched on it.

You put a lot of hard work into it, using the best material and the most beautiful colors.

And since the gender was still unknown, you decided to go for a light beige color with some red details.

In the end, the blanket looked just too cute and it hit you - you were pregnant.

The day was nothing special when you told Saeran that you would like to go and eat an ice cream with him, something he agreed to immediately.

He took a few hours free and hand in hand with you, he went to buy ice cream for the both of you, enjoying the sun on your skin and the nature around you.

,,What do you have in that bag?’’ he asked you after a while, still licking his ice cream as he pointed at the little bag in your hand.

,,Nothing,’’ you began, ,,just something little I want to give you,’’ you told him, making him excited to know what you would like to give him.

To prevent the blanket from getting dirty, you decided to wait until the both of you were finished with the ice cream, giving you the chance to talk to Saeran a bit more about his day and your day.

,,Okay, now I’m ready,’’ he nodded and looked at the bag. He couldn’t wait to see what you had prepared for him in there.

He opened the bag and pulled out the self made blanket, observing every little detail.

He tilted his head as he looked at the length of it.

,,It’s a bit too little for you, right?’’ you laughed, making him laugh too.

Suddenly, Saeran saw a little note in there.

,,It’s not for you, it’s for your baby, Dad. Congratulations…’’ he whispered and put the note back into the bag, looking at the tiny blanket again.

You knew that he was happy, but probably overwhelmed with this news and so you decided to wait a few moments.

But as soon as the news arrived in his head, Saeran couldn’t prevent himself from hugging and thanking you a thousand times.

,,You...you always make me so happy…!’’ he whined.

,,I will give my best to become a good father,’’ he said with a trembling voice.

,,I won’t become like my parents. I will be a good one and I will protect you and our unborn child,’’ he whispered, his hand on your belly by now.

,,I promise,’’ he nodded.

,,I trust you, Saeran.’’

Jihyun

As soon as Saeyoung heard those words, he began to tear up and hugged you, patting your back. He was just so happy for you and Jihyun as he knew that the both of you had a hard time lately.

,,Let’s get back and prepare something!’’ he said in his mischievous smile and helped you to get into the car.

Of course, to keep it fair, Saeyoung wasn’t allowed to tell anybody. Instead, the both of you planned on how to tell Jihyun who would soon come back home.

,,How about I make a computer print of your future family and he has to paint it in little colors? We will just make it with so many details that he won’t notice from the beginning that it’s a family picture of four!’’ Saeyoung chuckled. You loved the idea and were more than happy to go with it.

You and Saeyoung worked on the details while the rest of the RFA weren’t at your home as they too had their personal lives.

Saeyoung and Saeran, however, stayed with you partly because Saeyoung prepared the surprise with you, but also because they both were worried.

When you finally finished with the layout and Saeyoung helped you to print it out, you wouldn’t be able to tell that this was a picture of a family.

,,I wonder how he will react,’’ you laughed and thanked him for his hard work.

,,Those were the longest six weeks I’ve ever experienced,’’ you whimpered when Jihyun finally arrived at home, Lucy on your hand, also more than happy to see her father.

Hugging the both of you, he nodded in agreement.

,,I also missed the both of you,’’ he said honestly.

Quickly letting him step in, you took his stuff and helped him to unpack before you told him that dinner would be soon ready.

,,I have a little challenge for you,’’ you laughed as you went back to your room to take the picture you prepared for him.

,,Oh, I saw that on Instagram,’’ he nodded, as he remembered the logic of the painting.

,,Yes, but I did this myself,’’ you said proudly, handling it over to him.

He laughed happily ,,I’m excited to work on it, thank you!’’ he laughed.

,,Yes, but there’s a hidden message in it so you need to hurry with it!’’ you told him, not knowing that you encouraged him to work on it the whole night after you fell asleep that night.

In the morning, when you just opened your eyes and saw his black bags below his eyes, paint all over his hands, you knew that he overworked himself.

,,Will we be able to adopt a child?’’ he asked you, his voice was raspy as he asked you, tears in his eyes, excited to know the answer.

You slowly shook his head, making him wonder if his sleepy eyes made him see something he just wanted to see.

But you didn’t want to tease him anymore so you finally told him. ,,I’m pregnant, Jihyun. I wasn’t sick back then, I was just… pregnant! I was having symptomes. We will have a child together soon!’’ you told him, slowly getting up from the bed.

,,I’m so happy,’’ he sighed and kissed your belly.

,,I will never go away for such a long time, I swear,’’ he whispered and then, with his knees on the floor and head on your lap, slowly fell asleep….

Vanderwood

You observed Vanderwood, noticing that the mood was being off for a few days.

To be honest, it was happening ever since you told him that you wanted to stop trying to have children for the time being.

Your eyes followed Vanderwood as he walked out and took out a cigarette, sluggishly smoking and looking around.

You began to chew on your lips as you thought back, maybe beginning the topic with ,,Yo’’ wasn’t the best way to start.

But there was no way back now and it didn’t matter anymore since you finally got pregnant.

You hoped that a day later, Vanderwood’s birthday, this silence between the both of you would be over finally as you wanted to surprise him with a self made cake which said, ,,Hello Daddy!’’

Of course, you firmly told him to not look at it, something he would never do since he knew how much you liked to surprise him.

,,Vandy,’’ you called him softly.

,,Don’t call me like that,’’ he groaned, a bit annoyed as he closed the door.

,,Are you angry at me?’’ you asked him, scared for his answer.

Vanderwood turned his body to you.

He didn’t look happy and you just noticed.

,,I’m not angry, I’m just… I have the feeling that you don’t really care about having a family with me while I work my ass of and-’’

,,Woah, what gives you that idea?’’ you asked him, slowly getting off the couch and looking at him.

You didn’t want to fight with him, but his comment… hurt you deeply.

,,Last time, sorry, but you approached the topic totally wrong!’’ he hissed, on his way to the kitchen.

You followed him there. He was partly right, you thought.

,,But, I was just… I didn’t know how to tell you, but this doesn’t mean that I don’t care,’’ you told him, your trembling voice making him look back at you.

,,I know. It still hurts though,’’ he whispered and opened the fridge to take out a cold drink.

,,You know what,’’ you told him, holding onto the door of the fridge and pulling out the cake you made for him which was covered with something so that he couldn’t see what was written on it with the chocolate.

,,What-’’ before Vanderwood could even say anything, you showed him the cake you prepared for him with the note written on it that you were pregnant.

,,It’s true. I was mean and I should have approached you differently, but I was so down, I didn’t think I could get pregnant anytime soon and- just don’t say anymore that I don’t care,’’ you finished your sentence and looked up, your tears were rolling down your cheeks as you were unsure of what to do now.

But Vanderwood knew what he had to do and softly took you in his arms, laying you down in the other room and kissing your neck.

,,You destroyed my surprise,’’ he whispered, giving you a kiss again.

,,Sorry for being selfish. I was mean while you’ve been carrying my baby,’’ he honestly apologized, stroking your flat womb as you sobbed into his shoulder.  

Part 4.1 of my pregnancy series here 

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

🤰🏻ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ sᴇʀɪᴇs🤰🏻Masterlist here

16.05.2021// 00:12 MEST

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s 2021 Birthday R&S

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an R&S which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This was released on 24 July 2021 ]

[ Chapter One: Model Aircraft Competition ]

The cicadas outside the window are clamorous, and the dark green trees cover the blazing sun, casting shady and cooling patches.

This is an incredibly ordinary late afternoon. The summer vacation is about to arrive, and the classroom is filled with the buzzing chatter of students, as rowdy as usual.

Gavin is asleep on the seat next to the window. Sunlight passes through the crevices of leaves and linger on his shoulders, bright and indolent. However, he isn’t actually sleeping, and the conversation between his deskmate and the student in front of him drift to his ears clearly.

“Hey, are you going for that model aircraft competition the teacher mentioned a few days ago?”

“I heard all the middle schoolers in our city will be participating. Those who get prizes will have extra marks, and the person who gets first place can visit the Aviation Headquarters!”

“Then again, you’ll need the capabilities to win. If you're participating, I’ll watch.”

“Hehe, you speak as though the person who lags behind in every subject can bag a trophy.”

The two of them attack each other with taunting remarks. After lapsing into a moment of silence, they suddenly turn their gazes to Gavin simultaneously.

Gavin’s deskmate pokes his arm and calls out to him.

“Gavin, you aren’t asleep, are you?”

The figure wearing a blue and white school uniform remains plopped on the desk, unmoving. A slightly muffled response drifts from him.

“What is it?”

Gavin’s deskmate and the student sitting in front of him look at each other, then speak excitedly.

“Do you know about that recent model aircraft competition?”

Gavin lets out a “mm”.

“Aren’t you going to participate?”

“We had a discussion about it, and felt that in the entire class, you’re the only one with the capabilities to win a prize. The others are just a bunch of useless troops, and they’d be of no use even if they went.”

Gavin stirs slightly. His deskmate looks at him with anticipation. In the end, he simply cushions his head using the other arm.

“Not interested.”

“Huh?”

His deskmate stares at the back of his head in utter disbelief.

“Your dad’s a military officer, and you’ve seen more real planes since young as compared to the number of models we’ve played with. This competition is basically made for you.”

Gavin doesn’t respond. In the sunlight, a few strands of hair on the back of the youth’s head stick up disobediently, clearly showing that he isn’t in the best of moods.

At this moment, the dismissal bell rings. Along with the cheers from students, the classroom erupts into a state of chaos.

Gavin finally sits up. After stuffing the English book he used as a pillow into his sling bag, he turns around and leaves the classroom.

After the figure vanishes at the door, Gavin’s deskmate turns to the student sitting in front of him, expressing puzzlement.

“Why do you think Gavin doesn’t want to participate? A few days ago, I saw him at the bookstore outside school buying an Aeromodelling Atlas.”

The student in front of him shrugs, signalling that he has no idea.

“Maybe he got bored.”

[ Chapter Two - Proof ]

When Gavin reaches home, his mother has yet to return.

Placing his bag down, he suddenly notices a new post-it note on the fridge. On it, there’s a menu written in delicate handwriting: Stir-fried tomato and scrambled eggs, fried stuffed tofu, stir-fried duck with pineapples.

There’s a smiley face drawn on the last line, and the words “The dishes Little Gav loves to eat” are written at the side.

Only then does Gavin remember - his birthday is coming.

Every year, his mother would start preparations way in advance. It’s as if in her eyes, this particular day is even more worthy of celebration as compared to all other festivals.

And this year is no exception.

The post-it note is a little crooked. Gavin uses a fridge magnet to straighten it, then returns to his room.

The small room is covered with traces of youth. There are posters of basketball celebrities on the walls, and there's a globe and a few books on the desk.

After hesitating for a while, Gavin pulls open his bag and takes out a pamphlet. On it, there’s information pertaining to the model aircraft competition.

He reads the information seriously. A breeze blows the the white curtains, and the lights and shadows of dusk outline the youth’s straightened back profile, casting specks of light on a book. The words “Aeromodelling Atlas” can be vaguely seen. 

While reading, he suddenly recalls the words his deskmate said-

“Your dad’s a military officer, and you’ve seen more real planes since young as compared to the number of models we’ve played with. This competition is basically made for you.”

His grip on the pamphlet abruptly tightens. Gavin rolls it into a ball and tosses it on the table, getting up in frustration and leaving the room.

Everything in the living room is clean and tidy. The school uniform he had changed out of is drying in the balcony. The large uniform drifts with the wind, and the air is filled with the fragrance of soap.

Even though there are clear traces of diligence and attentiveness, certain things can still be seen.

Model robots and clay crafts are displayed neatly on the left side of the built-in cupboard. However, there’s nothing on the right side.

All the cups and plates form a complete set. However, one cup is placed upside down on the cup rack. Although it has been a long time since it was last used, its owner wipes it spotlessly every day.

It’s as if the person she’s waiting for has always been around. Disappointment has repeated itself in endless cycles, but she continually harbours hope.

Gavin ignores such traces. He walks over to the fan in the living room, furrowing his brows as he squats down.

This fan has been spoilt for several days. Each time it’s turned on, it releases a strange clacking sound, akin to a heavy wooden door being pushed open with great effort.

-

When Wardia steps in with a bag of groceries, she sees Gavin half-squatting and studying that fan which has been broken for numerous days.

She calls out to Gavin.

“Little Gav, the fan is spoilt. I’ll ask a worker to fix it tomorrow. Don’t mind it.”

“When you called yesterday, the worker said that he wouldn’t be free these days. He probably won’t be able to drop by tomorrow either.”

Gavin pushes the outer shell of the fan lightly, and the white netted cover stirs gently, letting out a muffled buzz.

“No need to call for a worker. I can fix it.”

Wardia is stunned for a moment. Then, her eyes crinkle into a smile.

“When did our Little Gav become so incredible?”

Gavin stands up, his tone very certain.

“Leave it to me.”

Wardia casts a contemplative glance at Gavin. He’s going to be 14 soon. At this age, children tend to think about a lot of things, and may be exceptionally sensitive in certain areas.

Since a particular point in time, he had already been working hard and learning how to become a man with an indomitable spirit.

She can only nod.

“Okay. Mommy bought green beans today. I’ll prepare you a cooling soup later to alleviate the summer heat.”

With this, Gavin responds by heading to the kitchen to get a bowl to soak the beans for his mother.

The green coloured beans are immersed in water. Some float and some sink, and their colours are clear.

Wardia looks at Gavin. After a moment of hesitance, she speaks in a light-hearted and leisurely tone.

“Little Gav... Daddy took up an urgent mission recently and was sent to a very faraway place. He might not be around for your birthday this year again...”

“Mm, I’ve got it.”

Gavin’s tone is very indifferent. It’s as though whether that person returns or not has nothing to do with him at all. Wardia wants to say something, but after opening her mouth, she turns around, forcefully suppressing her emotions. 

Gavin carries the bowl with both hands. When he sees his mother’s back, he suddenly grows quiet.

Why harbour hope when one clearly knows the ending?

After dinner, Gavin returns to his room. The pamphlet is still on the desk. He pauses for a moment, then reaches out to pick it up.

He’s going to be 14 years old soon.

Becoming one year older is something his mother looks forward to even more than he does. Because of this, she feels even guiltier with every year of his father’s absence.

Even though he knows he doesn’t need that person to wish him a happy birthday, he hopes that his mother can be a little more genuinely happy on his birthday.

Gavin makes a decision.

He smoothens the pamphlet on the desk. In a serious manner, he fills up the registration form on the back with his name. When he sets down the pen, his eyes sparkle with a certain determination.

He wants to participate in the model aircraft competition, and he wants to get first place.

He wants to use something he likes to prove to that person that he has already grown up, and has become even more incredible than he imagined.

“I’m going to prove to you that I can still do it without Evol.” He repeats resolutely once more.

If that person left this house back then because of how small and weak Gavin was, he’d definitely have a slightly different answer when he sees the current Gavin.

He’d definitely want to... return and see this family.

[ Chapter Three - Wings Waiting To Fly ]

Aeromodelling books and scattered materials are piled up in Gavin’s room. When Wardia enters while carrying chilled green bean lily bulb soup, she sees Gavin sitting cross-legged on the floor, using a vernier calliper to measure the wingspan.

Wardia carefully steps across the spare parts, placing the bowl on the desk.

“Little Gav, why are you so diligent in this competition? You’ve been fiddling around in your room for several days.”

Gavin wipes sweat off his forehead.

“This is a really large-scale competition. The teacher says that the person in first place will get to visit the Aviation Headquarters. I want to have a look.”

He’s determined not to tell his mother the true reason.

Wardia nods, giving him a “work hard” gesture.

“In that case, Little Gav must continue working hard and strive to be a guest at the aviation base.”

Wardia pauses, then looks at Gavin seriously.

“But Little Gav, even though this is a very rare opportunity, you must remember that no matter what happens at the end, Mommy will be happy for you. Because I know that you’re doing something you like, that you’ve worked hard, and have obtained happiness in the process. And that’s enough.”

Gavin nods.

“I know.”

“Oh yes, Mommy also wants to use this chance to discuss your birthday plans with you.”

Wardia grins while posing a question.

“What does Little Gav want as a birthday present this year? And what kind of pattern do you want your birthday cake to have?”

“Do you want to invite your classmates over to celebrate with you?”

Wardia prattles on endlessly as she counts the plans she has for his birthday on her fingers. That pair of beautiful eyes are layered with gentleness, but also hide a twinge of guilt.

It’s as though she’s exerting her all to ensure that other aspects are done even better to make up for that guilt.

After Gavin ponders for a while, he shakes his head.

“I’ve already grown up, so there isn’t anything I specially want as a birthday gift.”

“I just want Mommy to always be happy.”

When Wardia hears Gavin’s words, she’s taken aback for half a second. Her eyes stir slightly.

After this, she walks over to hug Gavin gently. Gavin has no idea why his mother is suddenly doing this, but he puts down the blueprint of the aircraft wing, reaching out to return his mother’s hug.

Wardia speaks softly yet resolutely.

“Little Gav, even if you become an adult in the future and become a man with an indomitable spirit, your birthday is still an important thing.”

She pauses.

“Because this day doesn’t just belong to you. It also belongs to everyone who loves you, and the people who have prepared and looked forward to this day for a very long time.

After his mother leaves the room, Gavin looks at the blueprint of the plane which is just beginning to take shape. He repeats what his mother said softly.

“It also belongs to everyone who loves you, and the people who have prepared and looked forward to this day for a very long time...”

Those clear eyes seem to be filled with an even greater determination to win the prize. He picks up the vernier calliper and continues measuring the wingspan.

[ Chapter Four: Heading In Another Direction ]

There’s only one week till Gavin’s birthday.

That huge pile of materials in Gavin’s room has turned into a beautiful white plane with blue wings and smooth lines.

At the competition venue, that white aircraft model ascends, spins around, flies upside down, and lands under Gavin’s control. Everyone is astonished at how perfect it is.

Without any reservations, Gavin wins first place.

The person handing out prizes is a certain officer from an aviation base. He places a small plane-shaped badge into Gavin’s hand.

“You referenced the air freighter Y2251 for the style, didn’t you? I could tell from a glance.”

Gavin nods, and the officer pats him on the shoulder.

“You reconstructed it very close to the original. Being this outstanding at such a young age, I believe your father will definitely be proud of you when he knows about this.”

Gavin lifts his head sharply, staring at the officer.

“Do you know him?”

The officer who handed him the award chuckles.

“I met him at an international meeting in the past. He’s a very outstanding soldier.”

Gavin doesn’t speak further. He lowers his eyes, tightly gripping that badge which symbolises the sky.

-

At night, Gavin sits at the edge of the window, lifting the small aviator badge to his eyes, staring at it meticulously under the moonlight.

The badge isn’t large, but the wings on it have been engraved vividly. It’s as though in the very next second, it could break free from the heavy fetters of metal, flying freely towards the horizon.

Gavin looks at it for a very long time, then reluctantly shifts his gaze away from the badge.

The summer evening breeze passes by his lapel, bringing with it a cooling and refreshing scent. The trees in the courtyard are very tall, and the sprigs of blossoming plants stretch to the edges of the window, touching his ankle.

This is the first time he has attained honour based on his own strength. Does this mean he now possesses the strength to be acknowledged by others?

He looks at the badge. Finally, his eyes crinkle into a slight smile, unintentionally revealing the wilfulness and pride that a youth should have.

Using his hands to support himself on the edge of the window, Gavin turns around and leaps back into his room. He locates a plain white envelope from his drawer, then picks up a pen. On the address line, he fills in his father’s current location, then stuffs the badge into the envelope solemnly.

After hesitating for a while, he scrunches up the envelope slightly. A few creases immediately appear on it.

Only after he leaps over the wall and heads out to slip that envelope into a mailbox at the corner of the street does Gavin release a soft sigh of relief.

This is a proof of pride, and it’s also an invitation from a youth. 

An invitation for the person whom his mother cares about to return to this place, and spend a birthday together which could constitute a “reunion”.

Gavin stands in front of the mailbox, lifting his head to look at the star-studded sky.

Tonight, the Milky Way seems to be brighter than in previous nights. Sagittarius emits a resplendent light, and the bow formed by stars points towards an unknown, faraway place.

[ Chapter Five: Indentations of Growth ]

On the early morning of Gavin’s birthday, Wardia cooks him a bowl of longevity noodles, and there’s even a soft-boiled egg burrowed underneath the noodles.

“Happy birthday, Little Gav.”

“From today onwards, you’ve grown one year older.”

His mother smiles as she says her well wishes to Gavin. After he’s done eating the noodles, she holds out a measuring tape.

“Shall we measure how much taller our Little Gav has grown this year?”

“...okay.”

Gavin is slightly resigned but accustomed to it as he stands next to the pole in the corridor. 

Right now, he has already grown much taller. In a serious manner, Wardia uses a pencil to draw a mark near the roof of his head.

“Our Little Gav has grown much taller. Wow, one, two, three... four centimetres.”

His mother keeps the measuring tape and Gavin steps away from the pole. There are numerous deep and light indents on the white body of the pole - traces that witness one boy’s growth each year.

"Looks like I won’t need to measure you next year. Little Gav has already grown taller than Mommy.”

Gavin immediately cuts in, his tone extremely certain.

“I’ll protect Mommy.”

Wardia taps Gavin’s forehead lightly.

“Mommy doesn’t need to be protected by Little Gav. Mommy will protect Little Gav. I’ll celebrate your birthday with you every year until you grow up.”

“What will happen after I grow up?”

His mother grins as she turns around and enters the kitchen. Her gentle voice drifts to Gavin’s ears, and sounds a little hazy.

“After you grow up, you’ll meet someone like Mommy who is willing to celebrate a lifetime of birthdays with you.”

While his mother starts busying herself to prepare Gavin’s birthday feast, Gavin decides to fix the fan in the living room.

With the successful experience of aeromodelling, Gavin picks up the instruction manual and fixes that clanking fan very quickly.

The fixed fan starts rotating to and fro in a leisurely manner, releasing a cooling wind. Gavin closes his eyes to feel the breeze, and his hair is blown up, fluttering messily.

“It’s fixed.” Gavin opens his eyes, turning his head to look at the time.

Noon passed not too long ago, and it’s still very early.

Gavin thinks for a moment, then heads into his room to retrieve the model aircraft. He sits on the steps of the courtyard.

A chunk of paint on the model aircraft cracked a few days ago. Gavin holds a small brush, slowly giving a fresh coat of paint to the tailplane.

The cicadas on the trees are noisy as always, and the brilliant sunlight filters through the leaves, falling on Gavin’s face.

While using the small brush to mend the plane with layers of paint, Gavin occasionally lifts his head towards the nearby door.

Judging by the time, he should still reach today, no matter how late it is.

Birds soar in the sky, and the sun continuously shifts to the west, until it brings twilight with it, turning into a semicircle about to be swallowed up by the horizon.

Gavin sits on the steps for a very long time, from noon till late afternoon, and until the beautiful lines on the model aircraft have been mended, laying beside him quietly.

Yet, that door doesn’t get pushed open.

A few leaves are blown by the wind, and they fall on the wings of the model aircraft. Gavin reaches out to pick the leaves up.

He grips the leaves in his palm, lowering his eyes and thinking about something unknown to anyone else.

With a sudden creak, the sound of a door opening drifts from afar, and footsteps land on Gavin’s ears.

Gavin instantly straightens up, but he quickly faces away.

The tender dusk envelops him, illuminating the slightly upturned corners of his lips.

[ Chapter Six: A Heart of Well Wishes ]

The people who pushed the door open are his maternal grandfather and grandmother.

Carrying a birthday cake, they brim with smiles as they walk towards Gavin.

His grandfather grabs Gavin into a hug.

“We wish our Little Gav a happy birthday.”

His grandmother lifts the cake, waving it at Gavin.

“Grandpa and Grandma specially bought a cake to see you, and to celebrate our Little Gav’s birthday.”

“Thanks, Grandpa and Grandma.”

Gavin receives the cake from his grandmother and heads towards the living room with them. Before walking up the steps, Gavin casts another glance at the door.

The door remains quietly caged in twilight, waiting alongside Gavin.

But even until the evening grows dark, it is never pushed open again.

Wardia notices Gavin’s abnormal silence. When she follows his gaze and looks at the door outside, she realises something.

However, Wardia doesn’t say anything. She simply pauses, then is full of smiles as she opens the cake box.

“Here’s wishing our birthday boy a happy 14th birthday!” His grandparents grin while singing the birthday song.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you...”

After singing the birthday song, his mother looks at Gavin, speaking gently.

“Go on and make a wish, Little Gav.”

Gavin stares at the cake and remains silent for a while. Then, he speaks quietly in his heart.

It’s fine if that person doesn't return. It’s fine if he isn’t acknowledged. Anyway, he has celebrated his birthday today, and has grown one year older.

He can fix a fan for his mother, and can use his strength to protect this home.

So-

It’s fine.

-

After dinner, the family sits in the courtyard to enjoy the cool air.

Hearing from his mother that Gavin won the first place in the aeromodelling competition, his grandparents are extremely surprised.

“Little Gav is truly incredible. Isn’t it really difficult to build models? What reward would you like? Grandpa and Grandma will give it to you.”

“There isn’t anything I want as a reward.”

However, his grandfather is very stubborn.

“You’re still so young. How can there be nothing that you want? Just suggest something, and treat it as a gift from your Grandpa and Grandma.”

At this appropriate time, Wardia cuts in. “This is a well wish from your elders, so just accept it.”

Gavin lowers his eyes and thinks for a moment. Then, he lifts his head and responds softly.

“In that case, I want our family to be like this every year in the future.”

He pauses, his eyes carrying within them slight warmth and ease.

“We’ll eat cake together, talk together, and sing the birthday song together.”

"That’s such an easy feat. Every year in the future, Grandpa and Grandma will bring a cake and celebrate Little Gav’s birthday with your Mommy.”

“It’s a deal.”

The evening breeze blows past gently, blowing up stray hairs in front of Gavin’s forehead, revealing a pair of clear amber eyes. He turns back to the courtyard and watches as his grandparents and mother engage in small talk and laughing to their heart’s content.

This is a complete family which has been mended with love, and it has much warmth and many things to look forward to.

It encases the youth’s heart, enabling him to not feel lonely at this moment.

The Milky Way is as magnificent as always. Beneath the brilliant star-studded sky, the tree which has been growing in the courtyard for a very long time stands quietly, as though it would remain this way every year.

Cheri’s Reflections:

Imagine if the letter wasn’t sent because Gavin forgot to put stamps LOL T^T

Not-so-fun fact: Wardia died when Gavin was 15, so this is the last birthday they spent together...

And MC not reading his letter back in Loveland High and leaving him waiting for hours hurts even more now because it probably reminded him of how he waited for his father to no avail

✈️ Spreading Wings Date: here

✈️ Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[hargrove-mayfields]

The first summer after the incident at Starcourt, things have finally had enough time to slowly ease back into normalcy.

The day after school lets out, the kids talk Steve into letting them come swim in his pool. It’s only for a couple of hours, and honestly, it does them all some good, the kids getting to pretend things are okay for a while, and Steve getting to soothe that worry that crept in every time he didn’t have an eye on all of them, so despite the guilt they all certainly felt for having fun, they let themselves enjoy it, for a little while at least.

The gimmick of what made summer fun ran out pretty quickly for them though, so once they’d all gotten sunburnt shoulders and had tangles in their hair and wrinkles on their fingers from the chlorinated water, they decided it was time to go home. They weren’t up for the arcade or ice cream after the pool like they used to be either, but they had had just under a year now to decide they were okay with that.

So Steve loads them all up into his new Mercedes-Benz, the replacement for the BMW that became necessary post battle when they discovered his car had been crushed at some point during that night by the Mind Flayer, and took them all home.

Max’s house was the last on his route no matter which way he went, the only member of the party who lived on the outskirts of the wealthy part of town now that the Byers’ had moved, so it’s just the two of them in the car. As they pull up outside though, she hesitates to get out, instead nervously picking at the stitches in the seat, mulling over something in her head.

They aren’t really close, no bond between them beyond babysitter and grumpy teenager not happy to have one, but Steve feels an obligation towards all of these kids, so he shifts in the seat so he’s facing her, and asks her in a way he hoped sounds approachable, “What’s up, Max?”

Max takes another second and a deep breath before speaking, wringing her hands nervously, “Billy’s birthday is in a few days and I don’t think anybody knows that, but I want to do something for him.”

Steve nods, doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do at first, “Have you talked to your mom about this?”

He asks because word traveled fast in a small town like Hawkins. Everyone and their mother knew that Neil Hargrove had split before they’d even stabilized his son in the hospital, and his wife had stayed with their children, taking full responsibility for Billy and Max. If anyone should be having a party for Billy, it should be Susan.

“Yeah and she liked the idea, but she’s been really busy with work and stuff, double now with Billy’s medical bills, and I know a lot of the other parents are too and some of them I just don’t know well enough to ask, and I don’t know who else to turn to because normally I’d take this stuff to Billy and I can’t do it by myself.” Max rambles all in one breath, has clearly been thinking about this for a long time.

Steve obviously wants to encourage that, so he asks, “What did you wanna do for him?”

“I just wanted to have a party for him at the hospital, but I know that’s kinda dumb since nobody goes to see him anyways.” Max mumbles, wrapping her fingers around the door handle like she’s going to get out, “I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

“No it’s not. What day is it, his birthday?”

“The sixth. I know that’s kinda short notice but-“ Max starts again, but Steve interrupts, a small smile on his face as if to prove he’s genuine, “No, it’s fine. We’ll figure something out. We’re not going to let Billy be alone on his birthday.”

It doesn’t seem to have the effect Steve wanted though, because Max scoffs and pushes the car door open, snapping before she gets out, “You do every other day.”

Even though Max had been so short with him at first, after that, she and Steve work on a plan at the end of every day when he was driving her back home, Max slowly evolving from tense about even bringing it up to actually excited for this thing they were working on together for her brother.

Steve doesn’t really have the time or the know-how for home made anything, but he buys everything you typically would find at an under twenty one birthday party, balloons and streamers, a chocolate cake, per Max’s request, and a tub of Superman ice cream, also a suggestion from Max.

He doesn’t buy Billy a present, he figures he doesn’t have use for much for anything material in the hospital, and although he’s willing to help, he feels he still doesn’t really know Billy like that anymore.

Or maybe he does, he just doesn’t know if the friendship they had been reluctantly developing would withstand the strain the accident at Starcourt had put on it, and didn’t feel it was very appropriate just to show up with an expensive knick knack that would just rub his wealth in Billy’s face.

Instead, he gets him a card, because who doesn’t want a birthday card, and leaves a hundred dollars and a heartfelt note in it. The money is because he has it and Billy needs it more than he does, and a hundred dollars was standard for milestone birthdays, in his family at least, and since Billy was lucky to see his nineteenth come around, he figures this counted.

So on the sixth of June, they’re ready to celebrate Billy.

Steve drives the kids all to the hospital that day, surprised that even without El around right now to convince them to, they were all willing to come. He guesses they’d all seen how torn up Max was when Billy was admitted to the hospital, and now that eleven months later he still hadn’t got out, it was bound to be hard on her.

It wasn’t a surprise anymore, Max had let it slip to Billy a few days beforehand in her excitement, so they just went straight up to his room, each kid and Steve carrying something, decorations or food or presents.

At first, Billy doesn’t really seem to thrilled to see them, but Steve supposed he wouldn’t be either, it couldn’t be any fun aging in the hospital, especially surrounded by nobody but your little sisters friends.

But they still set it all up for him, tying balloons to his bed and hanging streamers above the door. Max sits with him and keeps him entertained with stories, but what makes his mood significantly improve is when a nurse interrupted them to give him another dose of his pain meds.

Once they’re all set up, it’s Lucas who points out, “We forgot the candles for the cake.”

And it’s Max who, without really thinking about it, reminds him, “We probably have some with all the decorations and stuff we bought.”

It’s Dustin who looks and finds a pack of candles that someone indeed had brought, and calls out, “Found some.”

But it’s Steve who is seemingly the only one able to remember that the birthday boy was still on oxygen after a lung transplant and didn’t think he needed to be blowing out any candles, reminding Dustin very pointedly, “Actually, Dustin, I don’t think we need any candles.

Of course he argues, because kids do, “C'mon Steve, it's a birthday cake. All birthday cakes have candles.”

“Yeah, but I said I don’t think this one needs any.” Steve says, through his teeth this time, nodding subtly towards Billy, and Dustin's eyes widen a little, and the candles get put back without another word about it.

Instead, Steve gives Billy the zippo from his pocket, flipping it open for him so a tiny flame dances in front of his face, “Make a wish, Hargrove.”

Billy takes the lighter, a little apprehensively, but he stays quiet, looking up at Steve as he presumably makes his wish to himself, then clicks it shut, extinguishing the flame.

Ever impatient, the kids decide that’s their cue to cut into the cake without really asking anybody, but Steve doesn’t stop them, because as Billy reminds Max when she sits down on his bedside with a piece, “I can’t really eat that right now, kiddo, but thank you.”

She blows him off, teasingly uncaring in that sibling way, “Oh, I know, that’s why I picked chocolate cake, ‘cause I know you don’t like it. I just wanted you to have one, so it felt like a real birthday.”

Billy smiles wide, holds his arms out the best he can anymore for a hug, “Aww, come ‘ere, shitbird.”

Max spends the rest of their little impromptu party at his bedside, talking to her friends but sitting with her brother, the both of them chasing that sense of normalcy that everyone else had been able to move on and achieve, but they had no chance at grasping so long as they were apart.

That is at least, until to keep himself busy while the kids argue about something, Billy reads his card from Steve, that long written out note that detailed all his feelings and regrets and thoughts about Billy that he had been grappling with since Billy was hospitalized, sorrys and thank yous and happy birthday, everything crammed into that card but the part about how Steve had been falling in love with Billy since they met in ‘84.

It makes Steve nervous, twitchy and vulnerable with Billy reads it, until he gently closes the card and looks up at Steve, eyes wide and a little teary.

The first thing he says is an unrelated question, ruffling his little sisters hair and asking her, “Maxi, can you go down to the vending machine at the end of the hall and grab me some stuff? I’m running out of candy to hide in the bedside drawer.”

Max nods and slides down from his bed, and Billy adds, “Take all your friends too. See if they want anything.”

He waits until all the kids are gone, their voices echoing distantly down the long hallway, to ask Steve, “D’you do all this for me, Harrington?”

Steve shrugs, not sure if he’s more humble or nervous about why Billy wanted to talk to him alone, “It was Max’s idea.”

“But you still organized it, right?”

“I guess. I don’t want a thank you or anything though.” Steve insists, but Billy smiles, a bright one like Steve hardly ever saw anymore, and insists right back “Too bad, you’re getting one. Thank you.”

Steve just shrugs again, “It’s your birthday, Hargrove. I wasn’t going to let you be forgotten.”

“I would’ve been okay, Steve. Birthdays were just… never really a thing in my family anyways.”

Steve can tell they were going to go back and forth all day, arguing over whether or not he should be celebrated, and if he needed someone by his side, if he doesnt change the subject, so he asks him, “What’d you wish for?”

“Can’t tell you that or it won’t come true.” Billy hums, thoughtful, and he says, sounding like his sister, “And it’s sort of dumb anyways.”

“Hey, I’m sure it’s not dumb. If it’s something you want, it can’t be.”

Billy looks up at him, a little smile on his face, and explains, “I don’t know it’s just, I’m going to be sick for the rest of my life, I’m stuck in the hospital for another month at least and my dad disowned me, but, my wish still wasn’t for any of that to change.”

“What was it then?”

Billy takes a deep breath, a noticeable flush to his face, “I wished that I would have the guts to finally do this.”

For a second Steve wonders what he’s talking about, worries briefly that he was going to use the distraction and the relaxed attention from the nurses on his birthday to make grand escape from the hospital or something, until Billy leans up and kisses him.

It’s chaste and it’s sweet, everything that he’d expect from anybody that wasn’t Billy Hargrove, and everything that Steve could ever have wanted. He sits down on the bed beside Billy to make the angle easier on the both of them, not breaking the kiss for even a second, bringing his hand up to cup Billy's cheek, and deepening the kiss.

They’re interrupted by the squeaking of tennis shoes on the waxy hospital floors in the hallway, the kids coming back already, so Steve pulls away, just as flushed as Billy was now and keeping one of his hands resting on top of Billy’s, “Happy birthday, Billy.”

[tenkobrat]

fifty/fifty | takami keigo.

request – can I request for Hawks getting jealous over chubby y/n bcs she's having fun with another guy so he must remind her who she belongs to until she has to beg for him to stop bcs she can't take it anymore and she was sorry.

note - I didn’t include whether or not reader was chubby. it makes me uncomfortable to write/describe body types whether it be skinny/chubby/fat so I’ll update my rules to reflect that.

details and tw – wc: 1.2k | afab!reader | dubcon | mentions of alcohol | semi-public sex | unfaithful reader | slapping | degradation | panty fucking (?) | baby trapping

Keigo is smarter than he’d ever let you know. The disarming pro hero – your dick appointment, for lack of better words – comes off as the golden retriever boy of every fan girl’s dreams, a soft romantic with a stroke game to make you come around every now and then. He’s shown you, through dates that you spitefully argue are most definitely not dates, that he’s the kind of man that you should fall in love with. It’s what leads you to believe that you could see other people without suspicion, because even if you aren’t dating him, you can’t escape the gutting shame that comes with it.

 However, Keigo has been waiting in your hallway all night, waiting for you to come home from your date with another man, or at least that’s what he’s convinced himself was happening. What other reason could there be for your frigidness when he tells you he loves you or for you to be out so late without Keigo. You are seeing another man, he just knows it. He says he really couldn’t care who it is but when you come stumbling down the hallway, alone and still buzzed, his blood boils.

 The other man won’t even walk you to your door and somehow he’s better than Keigo? It’s a nuclear blow to his ego, one that changes his every instinct to hold you with the utmost tenderness. But maybe you don’t want the nurturing type. You don’t want the domestic Keigo he has been pretending to be for you. Why bother keeping it up when you don’t fawn over him like he deserves. Your legs wobble underneath you as you focus on the swirling ground below you, not even noticing the vibrant red wings waiting for you until you arrive at your doorstep.

 “Hawks, what the fu–" It’s easy enough for him to grab you by the wrist when you walk up, spinning you so that your chest is pressed up against the chipped paint of your front door. He releases you from his grip but his heavy body presses into yours, wings serving to trap you like a birdcage. You look up at the fluorescent lights in an attempt to avoid smashing your nose against the door.

 “Is this what you see other men for, baby,” he growls through an unwittingly gritted jaw. Your booze-rattled mind can’t yet comprehend the malice behind his touch when Keigo gropes your chest through the flimsy material of your dress. He wonders if you bought it yourself or did your other man buy it for you to wear. It doesn’t look like the type of thing he thought you’d like but Keigo figures that he never really knew what you truly liked anyways.

 “Keigo, please I’m really tired,” he wants to laugh. You still think he gives a shit about what you want. If it wasn’t so audacious to him, he might’ve been able to hold back from using his free hand to slap you. You freeze up in response. The part of your brain that screams at you to obey, that drenches your lace panties with the use of brute force, takes over and Keigo couldn’t be more pleased with you.

 “Fucking finally,” Hawks rucks up your skirt, forcing the fabric to rest exclusively around your waist. Your mind is so far gone, between the alcohol on your breath, whatever else might be in your system, and the urge to submit, that you don’t even fuss about the fact that you are practically naked in public, at the mercy of his wings to shield you from any voyeur. Your thighs part ever so slightly for him and he hasn’t even bothered to make a move for you panties yet, “all it takes is a bit of force and you’ll just spread your legs for any fucker that comes your way.”

 You whine for him, wiggling for him to touch your puffy clit, to give you just a modicum of his attention. You couldn’t have made a fatal choice. Keigo grabs your jaw, leaning in so that all of your sense focus on him and him alone, “I don’t want to hear a single fucking thing out your whore mouth. Got that, baby?”

 The contempt in his little nickname clues you in to the fact that your only option is to nod and Keigo bites back a praise rising in the back of his throat. Instead he hoists you up against the wall, forcing you to sit on his knee as he fumbles to pull his cock out of his khakis. You know better than to reach out and touch him, pretending that the ceiling is just the most captivating thing you’ve ever seen under the soundtrack of Keigo’s belt clinking. But you also can’t help but take notice of how you actually feel inclined to touch him this time, how his meanness – it makes you want to be close to him.

 In your contemplation of the irony and discrepancy of Keigo’s touch, you miss how he removes his knee, lining himself up with your clothed hole. Even with the manner in which your panties stay damp from your previous endeavors that night, the feeling of him forcing his cock inside of you, bastardizing your lace into a makeshift condom, it’s simply excruciating.

 The fabric scratches against your swollen walls and you pray, to anything really, that he will not pull out, inspect the fabric, and find the leftover cum that will surely now stain the inside of your panties. But that’s exactly what he does, sticking one finger inside the garment as soon as he’s pulled out. Keigo doesn’t say a word, an unusual silence from him. Rather, he harshly tugs your hair back, craning your neck even further, only to shove his tainted finger in your mouth and wait until you clean him off.

 “So you let other men cum inside you,” Keigo pushes your panties to the side, this time properly fucking into you and letting you feel just how good his cock is. Keigo on the other hand, feels how drenched your cunt is with another man’s seed, how shamelessly you moan on his cock. It only serves for him to push even further, snapping his hips against your ass as he gets closer to his own end. Even as riled up as he is, he still is so volatile when it comes to his own orgasm. The push of your ass against him edges on his own curiosity, “tell me, who came inside you?”

 You stutter against him, unsure of the importance in this moment. You can’t understand why he would want you to moan out the other man’s name but Keigo has bigger plans in mind. The wrapping of his hand around your throat once more, his long fingernails pressing into your skin, it’s all to say that he isn’t testing you nor is he really asking you. You know that you have to.

 “E-Enji!”

 Keigo’s hips still as he releases his load into you. A bitter pang rests in his chest, knowing that you slept with his childhood hero but he finds solace in the fact that in the exact moment you uttered the name of the man you’d rather be with, there was a fifty-fifty chance that Keigo managed to tether you to him for the rest of your miserable life.

[pagesoflauren]

The Highest Bidder Ch. 1 (Ransom Drysdale x reader; sugar daddy!AU)

Summary: A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale.

There are no major spoilers for Knives Out. Consider this as an alternate timeline. There will be references to the movie/its characters and family dynamics revealed in the movie.

Warnings: loss of virginity, explicit sexual content/smut, angst, sugar daddy/baby arrangement, dark elements, dubcon, cliffhangers, minor spoilers for Knives Out, unprotected sex, irresponsible driving (don’t drink and drive!), swearing, Ransom is an asshole (more to add and if you spot any that I’ve missed, please kindly let me know!)

A/N: Huge disclaimer...I really didn’t want to end this chapter the way I did, but it was getting a little too long...but there’s more coming! Don’t worry, please don’t send an angry mob after me 😱  Big love to @threeminutesoflife and @caffiend-queen for beta-ing this for me! ❤️ One last thing about the text messages: Italics are sent messages and bold italics are received messages :)

This chapter is written under the assumption that the reader drinks alcohol.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

With his bedroom illuminated by the flashing images of his television, Ransom lounged lazily in his bed. One hand was occupied with his phone as his thumb slowly scrolled over the screen, the other idly wrapped around his cock as he took in the images on the device. 

Various girls, all a few years younger than him, staring with false wide-eyed innocence or sprawled out provocatively across recliners on sandy beaches or by turquoise-watered pools. Their names or aliases were listed under the respective photos, with a number in green text next to it. 

Deciding there were too many options, Ransom scrolled back up, the hand on his cock pausing as he started setting filters through the search. He changed them to specific hair colors, skin tones and a more concentrated age range. The only filter he didn’t change was the prices--there was no limit there. The page refreshed and showed him more favorable faces. 

His mind started to numb and the faces started looking too similar. As he was ready to pack it in for the night and tuck himself back into his boxers, a strange listing catches his attention. 

He sees you, kneeling in the sand at an apparent topical destination in a barely-there bikini. Unlike the other girls, though, your face is candid, caught in a laugh, eyes crinkled and lips spread in joy. There’s no price. Just the letters “HB” in red text. 

He clicks on your photo and the webpage changes to your profile. There’s a few more photos of you: one with a cat, more vacation photos. Your location is convenient: Boston. Not too far from where he is. 

But all of that fails to answer the question at the forefront of Ransom’s mind: Why don’t you have a price next to your name?

He scrolls through a couple more meaningless pieces of information: a little blurb about who you are, your measurements, your race and your conditions.

One time only.

“What?” he wonders aloud, face scrunching in curiosity. Sugar babies don’t just have sex once and then walk away with a fortune. From what he’s heard, they bitch and moan but shut up when there’s a cock in their mouth (or pussy, for that matter). They need to be looked after either because they can’t afford it or can’t be bothered to do things on their own. Then, once he reaches the end of your profile, he understands. 

Virginity Auction. Current Bid: $8,250.

Ransom smirks at the prospect. He wasn’t looking for a virgin, but he likes the idea of taking one now. 

The number changes in real time, going up in five dollar increments before someone brings it up to $8,500. A pop-up window appears, warning him that if he’s interested, the auction ends at midnight. Ransom’s eyes flick to the top of his phone. It’s 11:57.

He thinks for a few ticks. If he pays you enough, he’ll have the convenience of entertaining himself between your legs and taking your virginity with no strings attached. Once that’s done, you’ll be out of his hair. He wouldn’t have to put you up, send you money or deal with your whining or complaining. 

Sounds like a good deal. 

Pressing his thumb into the blue button that says “Bid,” Ransom looks at the clock again. 11:58. 

Initially, he types in $10,000. But with two minutes to go and your price still ticking up, he doesn’t want to chance getting outbid by someone at the last second. He has to blow the other bidders out of the water. 

Sat up in your bed and wringing your hands nervously, you look at your cracked phone screen. Midnight has just passed and you’re waiting for a notification about the final bid in your auction. It started at $5,000 and in the week that the listing was posted, you had gotten notifications whenever it went to the next thousand. 

This isn’t how you wanted to lose your virginity. Ideally, you would have genuinely made love to somebody, someone your parents would have approved of and who truly cared for you. Even more ideally, it would have been the man who eventually became your husband...though you wouldn’t have waited until marriage to lose your V-card. You were about to take the next step in life and--you had to face it--you weren’t getting younger. 

What was the least ideal of it all was the fact that you were doing this out of pure desperation. Your graduate program was starting in a month and your savings were mostly gobbled up by application and testing fees. Living out of state didn’t help either; most of your money went to paying rent and commuting around the city. If someone paid you enough to tide your finances over, you could live off that money until the end of the semester, after adjusting to the program and your schedule, before taking on a job off campus. 

Your phone buzzed with an email from the website and you tapped the banner. Your email app launched and opened directly to the message. 

Your auction has ended. 

Reading further, you can’t believe what you see. 

Winning bid: $50,000 by Ransom Drysdale.

Fifty thousand dollars? Surely there must be a mistake. Why would someone pay ten times the starting bid? 

And Drysdale...where had you seen that name? 

Closing your eyes, you searched your recollection to place the name. It’s so familiar. 

Deciding your memory is unreliable, you resolve to a Google search of your highest bidder’s last name. 

The first result that pops up is a real estate company and a picture of famed author Harlan Thrombey, who apparently is the father of the woman who owns the business.

You feel faint...these names are not insignificant in Massachusetts, let alone the world. Harlan was a best-selling mystery writer--you had some of his books in your library back home. 

Then concern floods your brain: if this Linda Drysdale is Harlan Thrombey’s daughter, that makes Thrombey her maiden name. She must’ve married a Drysdale. 

Are you a pawn in some horrible cheating scandal? You must be, nobody has the name Ransom. It has to be an alias. Her husband must be looking for some young thing to get his rocks off. 

Stress causes your scalp to prickle as your phone buzzes again with a text message from the semi-mysterious Ransom, checking if it’s you, that he has the right number. 

Yes, you reply. 

The three dotted message bubble pops up before turning into another message.

Good. I’ve made a reservation at The Boxer in the city for Saturday. I told them you’ll check in. I told them not to charge you anything, but if you need to pay any fees, I’ll send you the money back. I’ll be there after 9. 

A chill runs down your spine at how direct he is. But, you suppose you can’t expect anything more from him. 

Okay, you acknowledge.

More dots, then another message.

Dress appropriately.

Despite your lack of experience in the bedroom, you know for a fact that he’s not referring to office attire. 

Settling back onto your pillow, you pull the covers over yourself and breathe slowly. You’ve got some preparation to do.

What do you bring with you when you’re planning to lose your virginity to a complete stranger in exchange for tuition money? 

Fuck all if you have a clue. 

You spent the days leading up to Saturday getting yourself ready. You bought a tight dress and pair of strappy heels from the sale racks. You cluelessly browsed for lingerie before an associate took pity on you (or just desperately wanted you out of her store, jury’s still out on that) and helped you select a lacy set complete with a garter and stockings. The associate absolutely gushed at how the color of the material complemented your skin tone, though you could care less. You forked over $120 for the damn thing and scampered out. Learning from your friends’ mistakes, you purchased a set of condoms using the self-checkout kiosk (and prayed you picked the right size). You weren’t instructed to buy condoms, but you figured you wouldn’t risk the chance of not having any. You endured a Brazilian wax, stifling profanities as the woman did her work. You also had trouble getting over your embarrassment; a stranger was going to see you bared all for him in a few days so if you can’t handle the wax lady seeing you, how could you handle “Ransom”?

Ransom.

Thinking about him did nothing for your nerves. You were certain you were going to lose your virginity to a man in his late 50s, who was married to Massachusetts’ biggest real estate mogul and the daughter of a renowned author. 

Dear God, what if she found out? Her father wrote murder mysteries, she had plenty of ways to kill you and get away with it. What if you weren’t even meeting “Ransom” and you were meeting Linda and she was going to kill you at the hotel?

You shake your head and look back down at the contents of your duffel bag: toiletries, a change of clothes for tomorrow, the condoms and your phone charger. You had created a playlist on your phone...if you weren’t going to lose your virginity to someone you loved, then maybe you could fake it with music. 

Who are you kidding? you chide yourself. 

You sigh and resolve to getting ready. After eating dinner, you strip off your old band t-shirt and sweatpants, remove your simple cotton underwear and novelty pineapple-patterned socks before discarding them into your laundry hamper. 

You shimmy into the lacy knickers, the material feeling quite uncomfortable against your skin. You clip the bra on next, followed by the garter around your waist.  Then you finish off with the stockings over your legs, stopping at mid-thigh. After fastening the clips on the suspenders to the lace trim at the top of the hosiery, you sit at your vanity to apply some makeup and fix your hair. 

“‘Dress appropriately’,” you mutter as you pull your dress from your tiny closet, “Hopefully this is appropriate enough.”

You maneuver yourself into your dress, struggling with the zipper for a moment then smoothing the material over yourself. You slide your feet into your heels and teeter a bit as you stand up. 

You’re not planning to really impress too much, so you pull on a downy, puffy jacket to combat the sea breeze the city gets in the evenings. 

Pulling the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, you look in the mirror one last time. You catch the reflection of the clock: it’s almost seven thirty. Taking into account how long it’ll take for your rideshare to arrive at your house and the traffic in the city on a Saturday night, you’ll arrive at the hotel a little after eight. You suppose now’s a good a time as any to leave. 

Requesting a car for pickup, you realize there’s no going back. 

Stepping into the hotel lobby, you know you don’t belong here. 

With modern touches and old architectural charm, the men wearing luxury tailored suits and women wearing unaffordable dresses, you felt you stood out like a sore thumb. The most luxurious hotel you had stayed at was a Holiday Inn Express near Disneyland. And it barely had functioning lighting. 

You timidly approach the front desk. Though the receptionist gives you a warm smile, you’re not comforted. 

“Hi, I’m here to check in for Drysdale?”

The man’s eyebrows raise in what you assume is recognition. 

Maybe this “Ransom” meets other escorts here often, then.

“While we would normally ask you to cover the fees upon checking in, Mr. Drysdale is a very good friend of the hotel so we’ve accommodated his request to make an exception,” the man informs you as he types away. He grabs a keycard and hands it to you. 

“You’ll be in room 6-F. Have a pleasant stay.”

“Thank you,” you say meekly, taking the card before turning to take an elevator up. 

Once on the sixth floor, you locate and unlock the room. The lights turn on automatically and you’re met with a cool gray toned room, which gives the room a darker atmosphere already. 

The entrance is narrow and you assume the bathroom is on the other side of the wall on your right. With wobbly steps, you move forward and see the room open up. 

The first thing you notice is the king-sized bed. Beyond it, the windows show illuminated facades of buildings outside. On the wall opposite the bed is a desk with a speaker and aux cord on top of the marble workspace and a fridge underneath. A TV is mounted on the wall above the desk. Next to it is an open wardrobe with a bathrobe hanging, cubbies and drawers, as well as a tray of refreshments. 

You set your bag on the bottom shelf of the wardrobe and retrieve the remote to turn on the TV to create some white noise and maybe kill some time (and nerves) as you wait for nine o’clock to come around. 

You wander into the bathroom and look yourself over in the mirror. You shake out your hands and pace, deciding to take off your heels for now as you pad around the room. 

Ransom was bored of dinner and his host knew it. Everyone else kept a level of decorum, but all the guests knew this get together was extending much longer than necessary. 

Checking his watch, it was quarter to nine. He threw back the rest of his drink before nodding to his friend and exchanging brief glances as he got up. Haphazard goodbyes were thrown his way as he pulled on his jacket and Ransom gave a nod of acknowledgement. He exits the restaurant, whistling to get the valet’s attention and handing the man his ticket as he pulls out his phone. 

Where are you? he messages you. 

At the hotel, sir. Room 6-F. 

“‘Sir’,” he muses to himself, smirking at the title you’d given him. He didn’t even need to tell you to address him that way. 

Have them bring up my usual from the bar.

Yes, sir.

Wondering how far he can take this, he asks you to send him a picture. 

He’s surprised with how quickly you comply. You’re sat on top of the sheets at the edge of the bed, leaned forward so your elbow can rest on your knee and the camera can get a view of the plunging neckline of your dress. Your hair falls nicely over your face and your palm cradles your chin. 

He can’t lie, he loves the way you look. You may as well be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Taking a few deep breaths, he wills himself to calm down; he can’t get hard yet. 

He puts his phone into one pocket and reaches into the other as the valet returns with his car. When the valet approaches, Ransom hands over a few sad, crumpled bills as a tip before walking around to the driver’s side of his car and climbing in. Sending one last message to you, he pulls away from the curb and heads to the hotel. 

I’m on my way. Make sure my drink is there before me.

You let out a spastic sound of nervousness and shook out your hands again before getting up to pace around the room again. 

The drink was on the way, you placed the order as soon as he told you to. You didn’t want to give him any excuse to not pay or complain you were unsatisfactory. Though, not having any experience in bed might prove that mission to be difficult regardless of whether or not his drink came in time. 

There’s a knock on the door and you jog over, pulling the door open to find a waiter holding a tray with a glass of what you assume is Scotch perched on top, covered with one of those signature little hats hotels always place on top of glasses. 

“Thank you,” you smile, carefully receiving the glass from him. He bows silently and turns to leave. 

You shut the door and place the glass on a coaster you find on the desk. You bother yourself with where the glass should rest (next to the speaker? on the far end, closest to the wardrobe?). Deciding it should be on the bedside table, you move the glass and coaster there then return to the desk to plug your phone in and play some music. You cringe at your choice to include Ed Sheeran in this playlist, but there’s no going back now. 

Suddenly, you hear the clicking sound of the door unlocking and you scramble over to sit on the bed to put your heels on. 

When you look up, you’re shocked to not find a man in his late 50s, nor the severe looking woman you’ve seen plastered on real estate posters. 

You find a man who can’t be that much older than you, dark hair and blue eyes that stand out in the dim light of the entry hallway. His cheeks are pale and rosy, framed by a strong jawline. He’s tall, crown of his head so high towards the ceiling. His broad shoulders nearly touch either side of the walls as he approaches you. 

He’s dressed rather casually, as if he was out to dinner with friends. The color palette of his outfit matches the hotel room: cool gray henley shirt, black blazer and jeans, finished off with a pair of brown boots and belt to match. If you’re honest, he looks like a model. He looks like he could have any woman he wanted. 

Why the hell does he want a virgin?

When he comes to stand in the room, hands tucked into his pockets, he looks you up and down from where you’re seated. His lips pucker thoughtfully and you see how perfectly pink and full they are and you wonder what it would be like to kiss them...

Nope. We’re not doing that. It’s a one time thing and that’s that. You remind yourself.

His eyes catch the glass on the bedside table and he plucks it up, removing the paper covering before bringing it to his lips to drink.

When the glass is halfway to his mouth, he hooks a finger at you. “Stand up.”

As he drinks, you obey, rising from your place on the mattress and smoothing down your dress before folding your hands together. 

He pauses his sipping, “Turn.” 

Hands falling out of each other’s grip, they land at your sides rather limply and you begin turning, giving him a three-sixty view of your body. You feel heat creeping up your neck and settling into your cheeks. 

When you come back to face him, he throws his head back to finish his drink and places the glass back on the bedside table, but he misses the coaster. You cringe inwardly at the ring that will surely form on the surface later. 

Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his. You feel like a deer in headlights, unmoving as his gaze continues to flit over your figure. You wonder if he knows you’re holding your breath. You wonder if he can hear how quickly your heart is pounding. 

When he goes to take off his jacket, things start feeling real. You don’t know how to describe the sound that leaves your throat, maybe something a frightened toad would make. Ransom halts and throws you a perplexed look and you cover your mouth in embarrassment. 

He rolls his eyes. “You nervous?”

The words blend together, but his voice is so honeyed and silken and you can’t help but sigh inwardly at the sound of it. 

Your jaw is slack and can’t make any sounds rise from your larynx. You snap your mouth shut and manage to nod stiffly. 

Rolling his eyes again, he crosses the room to the mini fridge under the desk and pulls the door open. Crouching down, he shuffles through the various little bottles inside before turning and tossing one to you. 

Your balance teeters as you fumble to catch it, the glass slipping out of your grip a few times before you fully grasp it.

The cap makes a cracking sound as it separates from the tamper evident band when you twist it open. You don’t bother to look at the label or pay any mind to the color of the liquid. Once the bottle’s open, you tilt your head back and drink, feeling the burn travel down your throat. When you stop, you notice you’ve had almost all of it. 

Your eyes meet Ransom’s again and he raises his brows as if to ask, Better?

You finish the remaining contents of the bottle and feel the liquid settle in your belly as you twist the cap back on.

“Thank you,” you muster your voice to say. 

His eyebrows raise again, showing his disinterest, and he holds his hand out. You’re certain you resemble a child when you use both hands to carefully place the bottle in his hands. There’s a flicker of confusion that crosses his face and you think you were meant to place your hand in his, but he turns and places the bottle on the desk. 

There’s a sense of dread that settles in your stomach when you realize there really is no going back and no more stalling. You can’t read the expression on his face, but you’re certain he’s not pleased with how slowly this is going. 

Summoning your courage, you reach your hands up behind you and begin to pull the zipper down...

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

Highest Bidder Taglist: @sapphirescrolls @just-another-wretched-egg @ladynightshade30 @angstsfordays @icanfeelastormbrewing @buckysteveloki-me @what-is-your-plan-today @iloganjade @twittytelly @xoxabs88xox @an-awkward-human-1 @fanfiction-trashpile @jtargaryen18 @donutloverxo @meaganottiz02 @princess-evans-addict @kianifan @asiaaisa77 @kelbabyblue @my-emotional-self @saiyanprincessswanie @random-things-i-love @captainchrisstan @daughterofthenight117 @buchanansebba @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @andiebell2023 @avengerraven1023 @dahkness @thatonefangirl111 @sllooney @sheerfreesia007 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez @farremoved @edge-ofparadise @bellaireland1981​

A note about tags: If your name is crossed out, I couldn’t tag you for some reason. While comments asking for me to tag you are okay, it is much easier for me to keep track of my tag lists if you send an ask. That’s the sure fire way to guarantee I’ll tag you. 

Additionally, if I forgot to tag you, please gently remind me via my ask box.