#he also uses double pair of socks and very warm clothes too

[zerguette]

I spent more time laughing at the pilots uniforms than actually drawing. Charles and Dmitri, bc yeah. I should have done Ellie and Henry but brain too tired, i just wanna doodleeeeee

Charles uniform is based off a certain uniform but also others (given he's experienced with many different ships, i prefered him having a special suit different to other pilots)

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song v (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, fluff, smut; a shit ton of kissing, oral (f), seokjin likes eye contact, slight overstimulation, he also seems to have a slight potty mouth when turned on, romantic sex, protected sex, shower scene, oral (m), this chapter is basically just sex, enjoy! (yes, the dilf dick is b i g) lingerie described found here for the visuals ~  words; 9,572

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. You were like a little kid at the lead up to Christmas. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this excited for something. Actually, on second thoughts, you couldn’t think of a time you were this excited for anything, period. And all over the prospect of sleeping with Seokjin, and definitely not in the innocent way… He had in no way explicitly stated that you’d be having sex this week, but the insinuation was heavy in the air. Everything leading up to this moment was suggesting come Saturday night you would not be sat in front of Seokjin’s 75” television watching boxsets… 

On the morning of you decided to pack a few things in a small case. You definitely planned on returning home in the day if needed or bored while Seokjin was at work, but the essentials were required: underwear, pyjamas, a few outfits, toiletries and skincare, your iPad, miscellaneous chargers. Soojung on the other hand was acting like you were never coming back… 

“I’m going to miss you.” She whined, having been hovering around you as you packed. “Leaving me alone with smelly Tae.” 

In a bid not to be alone in the evenings she’d invited her smelly boyfriend over for the week, but although she sounded irked it was all just an act. God knows what they’d get up to while you were gone, you dreaded to think. On second thoughts, maybe it would be best to stay at Seokjin’s place all week… You had no clue what you’d walk in on in your own home.  

“I won’t be gone the whole week. Besides, we can meet up for lunch and stuff.” You often visited her at the department store, perusing the food court until it was time for her lunch break. You weren’t secluded from the whole world while away. What did she think was happening? 

She helped you fold your clothes in momentary silence, deep in thought it seemed. “What if you love it there and want to stay permanently Dilf mansion?” 

You scoffed immediately, taking the small pile of t-shirts from her to pack away. “Soo, way to jump the gun.” You’d been dating barely six weeks, hadn’t even had sex yet, moving in together was number 1 on the highly unlikely list. Although, sliding in a couple of pairs of flats into the top pocket of your case and zipping it up, you hummed in consideration. “Dilf mansion does have a ring to it though…” 

Soojung’s attention was on another pile of clothing now – one you would be wearing this evening to leave for Seokjin’s house. Her fingertips brushed along the delicate baby blue lace of your lingerie, sitting on top of the pile and she looked up at you and grinned wickedly. “You’re going to knock his socks off with this.” 

You and her had spent yesterday browsing the mall with a very important task. To decide on the most perfect lingerie set. Knowing Seokjin for a while know, you’d noticed he had an inclination for the colour blue, so your chosen piece had to be a winner – practically see-through, littered in beautiful lace flowers. You were well and truly prepared for tonight, you were a woman on a mission. 

“His Dilf socks,” you corrected your best friend, both of you instantly exploding into a fit of giggles. 

Arin had left with her grandparents this morning, and as much as Seokjin was eager to get this weekend started and see you immediately, he actually had a few things he needed to take care of at work. It wasn’t until around 5pm that you got into your car to make the short journey, Soo waving you off proudly like you were about to attend your graduation. You were honestly quite calm given the circumstances, although one look at Seokjin as he stepped out the front door to take your case and all inner composure was lost. You were one big ball of excitement, most of it flurrying around in the pit of your stomach. Yet you kept cool on the outside, grinning at the handsome man in front of you despite your lingerie burning marks into your skin. 

And handsome he was today, (as if he wasn’t every day), his dark hair parted in the centre of his forehead naturally, his eyes crinkling as he smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You tasted a hint of mango on his mouth, an obvious sheen to his plump lips, and you presumed he’d applied some chapstick before you’d arrived – the chapstick you’d bought him not too long ago after he’d complained of cracked lips to you on the phone one night. 

“Hey,” he greeted softly, his arms around your waist, body pressed snuggly into yours. 

“Hey yourself,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck, gazing into one another’s eyes before you lightly teased him. “Are we going to stay out here all night?” 

Chuckling heartily, he reached behind you, lifting your case with ease. “Let’s go put this in my room.” 

You’d never once stepped foot onto the upper level of his house before, so you were very observant on your way to his bedroom, eyes catching art pieces (you noticed numerous of Arin’s) and photos along the walls, light fixtures, as well as the odd plant here and there. You had to walk two flights of stairs to get to your destination, one average in length, the other shorter, veering off to the left of the corridor to reach a landing leading into his bedroom. You remembered what he’d said about changing and designing his bedroom himself, so you were very curious as to what it looked like inside. Yet still, the sight of it stunned you to brief silence. 

His was the largest bedroom in the house, the master bedroom if you were being fancy, but in your opinion it was more like a mini home in itself. All it needed was a kitchen and you would be good to go. It smelt just like him – of his cologne and the recognisable vanilla scent his house seemed to waft of every time you visited. The walls were warm grey, décor similar with dashes of cream and gold. The bed matched the whole vibe of the room – insanely large, and you could already tell it was going to be the comfiest thing you’d ever slept on. Directly opposite, but a long way away, were a sofa and love seat sat around a TV hooked to the wall above a stunning fireplace. There were two sets of double windows, from the ceiling to the wooden floor, dark grey drapes open – not that it mattered. Seokjin’s house was out-of-the-way, no chance of being seen. All you were met with as you looked down, was a small patch of garden you hadn’t seen before, plain and simple, but very beautiful. Tranquil. 

To the left of the room a door opened into another, perhaps a quarter of the size – his closet, and you followed him inside, still pretty much lost for words. He said there was no point putting your belongings away tonight, you could do it tomorrow, but he’d saved a drawer for you and there was an empty section of hanging space you could use too. There was also a dressing table you could put to good use, because he sure didn’t, and then he whisked you away into the bathroom, which was probably the most beautiful room in the house. Everything was warm marble in colour. A separate bath and shower (both gigantic) and double sinks. 

“I got you a robe,” Seokjin pointed out, and you followed his gaze to behind the door, two fluffy white robes hooked to the wall. 

Oh, boy. You could get used to this. 

.

.

Seokjin ordered takeout for dinner – from an Indian restaurant Namjoon kept raving about apparently. With the amount he ordered you could have sworn he was feeding a whole party, not just the two of you. You were stuffed in no time, curling up on the sofa with a glass of red wine as Seokjin loaded the dishwasher. He still hadn’t cooked an actual meal for you, and when he joined you, of course you reminded him. This week he was preparing dinner for you one night, and that was final. You needed to see what Chef Kim had in him – even if he insisted his skills were long forgotten.  

You cuddled as you watched a movie, which more often than not meant you’d start to become sleepy – just ask Soojung – but tonight was different. You were wide awake and practically thrumming with excitement. You were begging for the movie credits an hour before they were due, and when they finally popped up your heart started to beat harder in anticipation. It was nearing 11pm. Your lingerie was still burning welts into your skin… 

Seokjin kissed the top of your head, your back pressed into his chest where you’d been snuggled into him, legs across the sofa, for the duration of the night. One of his arms was crossed around your front, the other free to drink his wine as he propped his feet up on the glass topped coffee table. You could really get used to this. 

“What did you think?” He hummed, reaching forward to place his glass on a coaster. You grabbed his hand, not wanting him to leave you and he chuckled, quickly resuming position to now loop both arms around your shoulders, pressing you further into the warmth of his body. 

“I enjoyed,” you replied with a small shrug. In all honesty it would’ve been a great movie if you hadn’t been so distracted. 

You felt him lower his head, breath hot against your ear as he spoke. “I’m glad you didn’t fall asleep on me.” You giggled as he started to kiss the column of your neck, his barely there presses of his lips tickling you. Yet still you pushed into his hold, letting your head fall back. He took the opportunity to suck your earlobe between his lips, eliciting a sweet sigh from you. “I really can’t wait to spend this entire week with you.”  He whispered. 

You tried to keep your voice as uninvolved as possible – which was a lot harder when he now had your earlobe between his teeth. “Eh. I’m so-so over it.” 

“Y/N!” He scolded playfully, groaning a laugh as he lifted his head away. “Stop. Now’s not the time for joking around.” 

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, latching onto his hands. 

“Face me,” he murmured almost suddenly. “Let me kiss you properly.” 

His kisses were gentle and loving, his hands cupping your face as you leaned into him, hands placed across his hard chest. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt tucked into some black pants, he’d looked irresistible all night. He pulled away slowly, lips upturned almost drunkenly. “What’s that grin for?” 

Seokjin’s gaze flicked from your lips to your eyes repeatedly as he replied, thumbs massaging circles into your cheeks. “I’m just very happy. Is that allowed?” 

Giggling, you pressed your mouth to his, wrapping your palms around his neck to pull him in closer. He hummed loudly – indulgently, and let you lick into his mouth, his own hands slipping down to your neck and down your torso, gripping your middle. Your chest was flush to his and you welcomed the heat of his body. You were happy too. It had been a long time since you’d last felt this content, and tonight you’d realised just how lovely it was to be able to lounge with Seokjin and be in his company so casually, so naturally like this. You would become spoiled this week, but you couldn’t feel too worried right now. 

Breaking away again, it seemed like he wanted to say something, but your mouth was a greedy thing, finding its way down his neck and across his throat as he leaned his head against the back of the sofa, his breathing shallow as he let you wonder. His fingers brushed up and down your back distractedly, until he seemed to remember what he wanted to tell you. “Hey,” he whispered, breath catching in his throat when you pinched your teeth into his Adam’s apple softly. “Hey, stop for a moment. There was something I wanted to say before…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the very obvious direction of his sentence, and as much as you wanted to nosedive straight into that pool, you pulled back to look into his eyes, waiting patiently. 

He straightened his back and you eased off him a little, finding his fond smile contagious. “I’ve enjoyed these past few weeks so much.” He began, sincerity in his tone . “I know I’m not old old by any means but dating you has made me feel like I’m young again. I mean, grinding in the middle of a bar is something I didn’t even do back in my college days.” 

“I fail to believe that,” you laughed. 

“Really,” he insisted, looking amused. “I was a nerd. A handsome one, but a nerd nonetheless.” Before you could roll your eyes he was continuing. “What I’m trying to say is that, I really like you, Y/N.” His fingers played with the ends of your hair lovingly.  “You know that already. Shit, I’m crazy about you. Just hearing your voice makes my day better. No matter how short a time we spend together, even if it’s just on the phone to say goodnight, I feel happy – I feel relaxed.” He paused to take a breath before moving to cup your face with one hand. “No matter how stressed I am you make it better by just existing.” 

“…Seokjin,” you murmured, a little lost for words at his declaration. 

He chuckled warmly, tops of his cheeks tinged somewhat rosy. “Too cheesy?”

You shook your head adamantly, reaching for his face as well. “Not at all. I’m crazy about you too.” His face lit up instantly and you couldn’t help but kiss him. “I’m so happy we met,” you confessed against his mouth. “I don’t want this summer to be over.” 

“It’s not over yet,” he laughed. “We still have time to make it even better.” You wanted that more than anything. Finding it difficult to keep away from your lips, he practically had to tear himself away. He was out of breath. “I know saying this out loud is silly given everything, but… Let’s make this official.” 

Your heart started somersaulting. You felt like you were in high school again, over the moon because Kim Rowoon had asked you to prom. Only this was better than that – much, much better. Linking your arms around Seokjin’s neck you tilted your head to the side, a grin unable to keep off your face. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Mr. Kim?” 

“What do you say?” He sounded hopeful and soft. 

You hummed out loud, thinking hard. “Can I get back to you? 3 to five business days seems about right.” You immediately squealed as you finished your sentence, Seokjin’s hands finding their way around your butt to tug you forward. You gripped onto his shoulders with the surprise. 

“Too bad because I’ve already been calling you my girlfriend at the office.” 

You didn’t have a chance to reply, the hard press of his lips against yours knocking you senseless. You found yourself in his lap not long after, fingers dragging through his hair as you clung to him, mouths moving in gradual urgency until you began to feel out of breath. Your tongues seemed to grow more daring, intent, as your soft moans mingled with his quiet groans. You hadn’t quite found yourself in this position before, usually moulded to the soft leather but this time you had Seokjin pinned tight, a heat that was quickly becoming unbearable burning between your bodies, and his hands running up and down your back didn’t help. 

Each brush of his fingertips had your skin prickling with warmth, dizzying your mind, and when you felt him brush against the curve of your left breast you leaned forward into his touch, desperate for more. Seokjin grunted, encouraged by your action as he cupped the soft flesh, his thumb grazing your nipple which hardened from the touch. Your kiss turned a lot more frenzied after that, Seokjin roaming your body with confidence, his unoccupied hand cupping your butt to rock you against his crotch. 

He was hard. You’d felt it stiffening ever since you’d climbed into his lap, but now he was solid, flesh pressing (probably painfully) against his pants, and feeling emboldened you lifted your hips, hovering over him for your hand to slot in between your bodies, cupping his erection firmly. He stiffened under your grasp, his breath hitching and you took that moment to drag your tongue along his, teasing him as you slowly started to stroke him above his slacks. He felt thick and rigid between your fingers, pulsing erratically against your hold, and he broke away from your mouth, head falling back as a loud, drawn-out groan slipped from his throat. You gazed at him – eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, mouth parted as he breathed shallowly – and took a mental picture. You wanted to remember this moment forever. He looked gorgeous, basking in pleasure and you wanted to pleasure him more. It was an urge so strong you practically dived on him, mouth slamming into his. He soon gained his bearings, kissing you just as wildly as his hands groped your body. 

“Do you – mm, do you want – mm – to take this upstairs?” He asked against your lips, fingers currently digging into the soft flesh of your ass. The veins in his neck were visible, his desperation for you obvious, and you pulled away from the kiss to nod rapidly. If he didn’t get you upstairs soon you’d surely explode. 

You let out a little squeak as you suddenly found yourself in the air, safely held up by Seokjin. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as he began to make the brisk walk to the hallway and towards the staircase. “Oh, my god,” you muttered, laughing as you realised he was about to carry you bridal style all the way up the stairs. 

“What?” He laughed back, his eyes twinkling warmly. Your heart melted at the sight and you leaned in to kiss him, uncaring that you both may fall backwards and break your necks. 

“I may have forgotten about the amount of stairs in this goddamn house,” he panted lightly once you’d made it past the first set. 

“Put me down then,” you giggled. 

“Never,” he sang out, pecking you on the mouth sweetly. 

Once in his bedroom, he placed you down, closing the door behind you before caging you against it, kissing you like he hadn’t seen you for months. You keened into his touch, whole body hot and ready for him, but in the end you couldn’t keep up with his mouth. He’d never kissed you like this, he was a man possessed, you physically felt weak at the knees and you clung to him, moaning softly when his mouth fell to your neck. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he confessed against the wet skin, fresh waves of arousal washing through your body. His voice was an octave lower, gruff and nothing like you’d heard before. “I can’t contain myself knowing we’re going to be alone for a whole week.” 

“What do you plan on doing to me?” You laughed weakly, but to be honest, the time for wisecracks were gone. You were hanging on by a thread, this close to begging him to tear your clothes off. 

Cupping your neck he pulled away to look you in the face. His pupils were blown out, more black than the warm brown you were used to. The tops of his cheeks were tinged red, his own arousal very evident, and when he replied he sounded as sincere as ever. “Anything you want me to.” 

Okay, if he carried on like this, he’d mess up your plan good and proper. He was rude. Very rude. And hot, and sexy, and yours. God, you really wanted him. Your body was screaming for him. You pressed a kiss to his mouth, and then another, and another, determined not to get yourself glued there no matter how much he tried to drag his tongue along the seam of your lips. “L-let me freshen up,” you managed to get out, voice shaky as you (with great difficultly) held him away at arm’s length.  

At your words, he slowly made sense of them, his eyes refocussing before he gave you a short nod and politely stepped back. “Ok.” 

Before you could be tempted by that mouth of his once more, you made a dash for his bathroom, closing the door behind you. Immediately you began to rush out of your clothes, not even bothering to fold them properly because you were in such a hurry. You’d had this planned all night, wanting him to be rendered speechless, and staring at your lingerie cladded self in the giant mirror he had hooked to the wall, you reminded yourself to take a breather. You were going to walk out there calmly, the epitome of composed as you sought out his reaction. With one last look at your reflection, you walked towards the door and opened it. 

Seokjin was sat on the edge of the bed, legs sinfully spread (but oh so casually, which just made it hotter), but he wasn’t looking your way, his eyes darting around the room a little as if he was desperately trying to find some patience. Knowing he was riled and aroused made your head even more dizzy, and stopping by the doorframe, you called out to him. 

He looked your way instantly, eyes bulging even quicker. Actually they practically popped out on storks as he took in the sight of you in the baby blue underwear. He seemed paralysed. 

“Hey,” you smiled, all of a sudden feeling a little shy as you waited for him to say something. 

It took another moment, but then he was swallowing hard, wetting his mouth as his lips parted. “Oh, shit.” 

You smiled victoriously, those simple two words satisfying you fully. 

He outstretched his hand, voice thick and raspy as he beckoned you forward. “Come here.”

You obeyed, closing the distance between you quickly and Seokjin wasted no time clasping his hands around your hips as you stood in front of him, between his legs. If felt so good to finally have his hands on your bare skin. His touch was warm, soothing, but most of all, electrifying. Goosebumps spread as he dragged his fingers up and down your sides, his eyes drowning at the sight of you. 

“Do you like it? It’s not too much?” You asked, looking down at him. You glowed under his gaze. 

He lifted his head up, arching an eyebrow. “Do I like it? Is that supposed to be a genuine question?” He sounded just as baffled as he looked and it made you giggle. His fingers started to play with the thin waistband of your panties before delicately outlining the lace flower petals on your ass. The sensation made you shiver, and a small smile grew on his face as he watched you. “You look gorgeous.” He leaned forward, beginning to place small, gentle kisses on your abdomen and your skin rippled, butterflies appearing. “You’re beautiful.” He murmured, hot puffs of air hitting you, heating you up even more. 

You curled your hand in his hair, needing something to latch on to as you watched him mouth even more kisses along your flesh. The point of his tongue dipped into your navel scandalously, and as you gasped he looked up with his eyes and smirked, tongue now swirling invisible patterns along your stomach. The sight sent you a little gooey, legs feeling weak again as your heart thrummed inside your chest. 

“However… I was looking forward to undressing you…” He teased.

You teased right back. “You still have the lingerie.” 

He couldn’t handle that, growling quietly against your stomach, his hands rounding your ass to mould the flesh in his palms firmly. He’d soon tear the panties if he kept that up. Obviously the idea of stripping you naked sent him feral – something you’d remember well for this week. You yelped when you felt him sink his teeth into your hip bone, pulling him closer to your body by his hair, desperate for more. It was when you looked behind him, did you notice the pillar candles aflame on the two nightstands that sat either side of his bed. They weren’t burning before you’d entered the bathroom. You were sure of it. 

“Seokjin, did you light candles?” You asked without realising, changing the atmosphere slightly, but you didn’t mind too much, not when the image of Seokjin rushing to burn candles for the ~ambience~ was too damn adorable. 

He lifted from your skin, looking up at you. “Um, yeah.” He sounded a little awkward before he chuckled softly. “I thought against the slow R&B music.” 

“Good choice,” you laughed, fingers rubbing small circles into the nape of his neck. That would’ve been hilarious. 

“I’m totally out of my depth here…” He admitted, nudging you backwards a little to stand in front of you. He kept his hands on your waist, ducking down to be eye level with you. “I haven’t done this in a while.” 

“Snap,” you grinned, rubbing your nose against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him close. You kissed him deeply, feeling happy and relaxed. There wasn’t a nerve in sight and despite his honest words you knew he was at ease too.  

Your hands slipped over his shoulders and down his toned chest, stopping just before the waistband of his pants to tug at his t-shirt, untucking him. “You have to get naked too.” You whined, detaching your mouths. “I’m feeling sorely underdressed.” 

He let out an airy chuckle, immediately reaching for the neck of his shirt to tug it over his head. Your hands greedily started to explore his torso, running your fingers along his faintly lined abs before trailing up his hard chest. He shivered as you brushed against his nipples, a tiny laugh slipping from his throat. 

“What?” You laughed. 

“’Tickles.” He mumbled, leaning in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, loving the feeling of his bare chest against yours, but soon enough you got impatient again, hands reaching for the button of his pants. You popped it open and proceeded to unzip him, at least giving his poor erection some reprieve. It had been pressed up against your lower stomach for quite some time, still rigid but as patient as ever. 

He took over, stepping back to push them past his hips, his lips still attached to yours. “Mm–Bed.” He hummed, taking you by the hips to switch places. You pulled away and sat down, watching him kick his pants off his feet and your eyes zoned in on the curve of his erection, hidden by his Armani underwear – black with a red waistband. His thighs were perfectly toned, his skim glowing in the soft lighting. He looked good enough to eat and your heart skipped a couple of beats as he walked forward. 

You laid back against the mattress, instantly groaning at how soft it was. You practically sunk inside. “Oh, damn this is comfy.” Rolling onto your side as Seokjin climbed on the bed, you hid your smirk. “I could just go to sleep…” 

“I don’t think so,” he told you, hovering over you. His hand smacked you ass causing you to squeal, and you flipped onto your back as he took the moment to cage you under his large body. 

This time his mouth completely bypassed your lips to kiss your chest, pressing into the indents of your collarbones before slipping to the tops of your breasts. He kissed the fabric, wetting it as his tongue traced the delicate flower petals and you gripped onto his shoulders with a moan as he encased one nipple between his lips, sucking gently, soaking the lace a darker shade of blue. “You drive me crazy,” he quietly panted, his hands reaching behind your back, arched into the pleasure he was giving you. “May I?” He asked, fingers finding the clasp of your bra. You nodded hastily, moaning louder when he lifted his head to kiss your lips. His motions were firm, tight pleasure filled grunts leaving him as he freed you of your lingerie. 

Immediately he pulled away, dark eyes soaking in your bare chest like it was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen. Your back arched further when his warm palms cupped your breasts, spreading a heat down your spine that settled between your legs. “You’re beautiful,” he awed, looking into your eyes, causing a sweet moan to fall from your lips. 

He moulded the soft flesh gently, before brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples. That had you moaning again, pleasure you hadn’t felt in a long time rocketing up your body. It felt amazing to be touched by him, and you were greedy for more. He was on the same page, his lips replacing his thumbs, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud that had you sighing out his name, your fingers threaded in his hair. He hummed against you, squeezing your breasts and pressing his body into yours – once – his erection pressing into your thighs, before he pulled away, kissing down your sternum before licking into your navel, his hands rubbing up and down the outside of your thighs. 

His lips avoided your clothed heat, which was frustrating to say the least. You were so eager by now, unsure if you could take much more kissing before you exploded, but Seokjin was a man determined – determined on kissing every inch of your body it seemed. He made it down one thigh before moving onto the next and as he got towards your knee you couldn’t help but giggle – it was beginning to tickle, but he didn’t stop, lips pressing down your calf.  

“Seokjinn,” you whined. 

He chuckled as he made his way back up the other leg, bending you at the knee before gently getting you to spread out for him. “What?” He murmured. Although you were distracted now, realising how aroused you had become, your underwear clinging to you desperately. He was kissing the inside of your thigh now, fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and he was so close to where you wanted him you were trembling. He nosed his way to the apex of your thigh, groaning as he smelt you and then he was hastily tugging the lace down your legs, the last of your covering. Now you were totally naked in front of him, and he looked like he wanted to eat you up. 

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, voice gruff. He sounded so sexy. His eyes were glued to your centre yet he didn’t touch. When you didn’t reply, they flickered to your face. “Y/N. Hm?” 

You mind was a blur, you couldn’t think what to say, mainly because you wanted him to do anything and everything to you. You startled when he nosed the inside of your thigh, his hands sliding down your hips to grip the flesh underneath. “Taste you? Is that what you want?” He whispered, sending your insides somersaulting. He looked up as you nodded, and grinned. “You have to say it out loud, honey.” 

The bastard. He was teasing you. Trying to get under your skin. Your forced yourself to speak. “Taste me.” He hummed in response, pressing his mouth to your hip bone. You raised your tone, more determined. “Seokjin. Taste me.” 

He dived in. Placing gentle kisses up your slit, his lips ever so slightly brushing your clitoris. You moaned quietly, letting your eyes close as you laid back against the softest pillows you had ever felt. Your fists clutched the sheets, hips raising up when you felt the first wash of his tongue. Your breath caught, warmth turning you gooey. “Taste so good,” he mumbled into you – so quietly you wondered if you’d imagined it. 

You enjoyed the sensation for a few moments, quietly moaning intermittently before you felt the urge to take a peek. Opening your eyes and looking down your body, you saw Seokjin watching you, his eyes hungry. You quickly looked away, the back of your hand coming up to cover your mouth as a groan left you, your legs falling wider apart. The scene had been erotic but in all honesty you were feeling a little shy. It had been a long time since you’d had sex, so the idea of someone watching you so intimately made you feel funny. 

Seokjin was there to reassure you though. “Don’t look away, Y/N,” he murmured, pulling back to get your attention. “I want to see your face.” You looked again, watching him kneel low as he ran a hand up your thigh. His lips shone with your arousal. He looked beautiful. 

You moaned lowly when you felt him rub a finger at your entrance, and he watched you intently as he pushed inside, feeling you squeeze around the intrusion. He slowly began to curve the digit, pressing against your inner walls. Committed to pleasuring you, he watched your every reaction and this time you didn’t look away. 

“Does it feel good?” He asked, in awe as you writhed around on the bed, chasing the feeling. 

You moaned as you replied yes, only to jerk upwards when his thumb began to rub tiny circles against your clit. “Seokjin!” 

He liked that. Hearing you cry his name. He wanted to hear it more, dropping low to replace his thumb with his lips. He sucked the sensitive bud of nerves between them, flicking the tip of his tongue against it rapidly, earning him another cry, and he moaned gruffly against you, the vibrations shooting up your body. His free hand moved to your lower stomach, palm hot against your skin as he applied gentle pressure, holding you down. 

Oh god, you were a mass of pleasure, mind addled, unable to think straight. Not when he was making you feel so good. He slipped a second finger inside of you, his eyes flicking up to yours and you made it your life’s mission not to look away, chest heaving up and down as you squeezed around his digits. Your orgasm was building, pressure below getting harder to control – harder to ignore. Seokjin guessed it, breaking eye contact to bury his face further into your heat. The image was almost crude, so were the noises, but the most beautiful kind of crude. A crude that had you desperate for more. You jerked into him, rolling into each snap of his wrist, the pads of his fingers grazing your g-spot. 

“Want to make you cum,” he rasped, before sucking your clit back into his mouth and sucking determinedly. You groaned, head flinging back into the pillow, eyes clenched closed, a hand coming out to grip the roots of your hair as you rolled your hips into his face, giving into the pleasure well and truly. This orgasm was going to blow your brains out – and it did. 

In the end you had you to clamp your legs around Seokjin’s head in a bid to get him to stop, pleasure still rolling through your body as you panted like crazy. He eased from your clit, tongue dragging down your folds instead, meeting his fingers that were almost locked inside of your pulsing walls. With a grunt, he removed himself, kissing your mound one last time before he stopped. With his hands on your thighs as he kneeled between them, he watched you adoringly. 

“Oh, my god,” you panted weakly. Unsure what else you could say to describe what you’d just experienced. Why had he not been doing that from the get-go? From as soon as he’d reversed into your car?! 

That was all he needed anyway, your simple vocalisation, because no sooner had the words exited your mouth, he dived on you, kissing your mouth, your cheeks, your eyes, your forehead – whatever he could reach. “You’re amazing,” he gushed, his lips and chin still glistening with your wetness. You could taste yourself on him. It was glorious. His hands roamed your body like it was all new to him. As if he hadn’t been it for the last forty minutes or so. “Fuck. I can’t stop touching you.”

Your stomach flipped around, the sound of him cursing sending you dizzy. You licked into his mouth, kissing him messily, your hands raking up and down his back, before they settled on his ass. You gave the meat a squeeze and he grunted, pushing his crotch into yours. He was painfully hard – and desperate. (You hadn’t missed the way he’d been rutting into the mattress while going down on you…)

“Seokjin,” you breathed, moving your head to the side to get your words out. His tongue carried on going, swirling across your cheek. You liked getting messy with him. You tugged at his underwear. “Get naked. Need you.” 

“You don’t need a minute?” He asked, tongue now in your ear. He gyrated his hips into yours, grunting as he did so. 

You shook your head. “Like hell I do.” 

He laughed at that – breathlessly, but it was something. He moved, rushing out of the last bit of clothing he had on, and your eyes drunk up the sight. The missing piece. His dick was long and thick – smooth and warm once you got your hands on him. Hovering over you, you ran your fist up and down him steadily, just enjoying getting to touch him. He dropped to your side, pecking your lips before he pulled back.  “I need to be inside you.” 

You continued to touch him, running your fingers along the rigid flesh as he stretched behind him to pull a box from the nightstand drawer. 

It caught your attention right away. You raised both eyebrows as you let go of his length. “A hundred condoms?” 

He chuckled, sounding a little sheepish. “Too enthusiastic?”

“Do you want to kill me?” Death by (Dilf) dick wasn’t how you’d expected to go, if you were being honest. 

“Not particularly,” he shrugged, pulling one of the packet. (Discarding the box to the floor.) He turned back to you with an impish grin. “That’s why I bought the bumper pack of condoms.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest, but he grabbed your hand and kissed you, distracting you successfully. “No, if I’m being truthful,” he continued, letting you steal another kiss. “They were better value for money. I’m partial to a bargain.” 

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoffed. 

“You should’ve seen me purchasing them, I have never been more embarrassed in my life.” 

“Seokjin, you’re a near 40 year old man,” you judged openly, however on second thoughts – “But yeah, I’d be embarrassed buying a 100 condoms too.” 

Seokjin shuddered, looking mortified. “Just the thought of the cashier knowing I was going to get lucky…” 

You arched an eyebrow. “Get lucky?”

He looked comically caught out, eyes wide for a second before he shook his head. “Less talking now…” And then he was kissing you again…

Between rushed mouths and eager hands, he managed to tear the condom packet, pulling out the latex to slip it over his erection. Kneeling over you, you could see perfectly when he attempted to roll it the wrong way up.  “Oh, shit. Ignore that,” he muttered, fixing it immediately. 

You stifled a laugh. “Ignored.” 

He gave himself a tug, making sure everything was secure and your mouth practically watered. “Just warning you now, this may be a three pumps and Bam! kinda thing,” he informed you as he laid over you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I am so turned on.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his middle. “I don’t mind. Just want you.” 

“I want you more.” He rubbed his nose against yours. 

Hitting his ass, you shot him a look. “It’s not a competition.” 

“Isn’t it?” He asked, pretending to be confused. 

“Quit stalling,” you whined. “Let’s have sex.” 

“Let’s,” he agreed with a warm smile. You turned gooey instantly. 

Pressing his knees to the mattress, he hovered over you, wrapping his hand around his dick to direct it between your legs. He rubbed the length up and down your slit, flesh heavy and hot, coating himself in your arousal. The sensation was good for you, but for him it seemed to blow his mind, eyes practically rolling back into his skull as he grunted. He stopped at your entrance, looking up at you as he slowly pushed the head inside. 

You shifted under him, trying to stay patient. You wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of him, but realistically you needed to take things slow. You held onto his shoulders, silently telling him to continue. He let out a strained groan as he slipped in deeper, your walls snug and hot around him, begging him for more. Inch by glorious inch, you kept on taking him, until you were filled up just right. 

“Shit,” you uttered, looking up at the ceiling as you adjusted to the sensation. 

“Was that a curse?” He asked, voice tight but greatly amused as he nosed your throat. 

“Hardly.” Your voice was barely there, desperate for him to move. 

“I’d still class it as swearing.” He was holding his breath, yet still felt the need to be a smarty-pants. You moved your hips practically a centimetre and he grunted. He didn’t want you to win though. “I want more. Maybe not tonight, but I will turn your mouth filthy by the end of the week…”

A moan tore from your throat uncontrollably, and you couldn’t look at his face because you knew you’d be met with a gloating smirk. You steeled yourself, nose in the air. “Game on.” 

Seokjin laughed obnoxiously, but couldn’t wait any longer, slowly dragging out of you and then pushing back in. His breath hitched – so did yours, and he carried on, propping himself up with one hand as he gained a steady rhythm. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he moaned, watching your face. 

“You too.” You clung to him, feeling your face heat up and ended up dropping your gaze. 

“Honey, don’t be shy,” he whined, reaching to cup your face, in the process pressing more of his body weight into you. You clutched him tighter, wanting him as close as ever. “I like watching you. Knowing I’m making you feel good.” His mouth on yours now, you sunk into the kiss, moaning softly as his thrusts got quicker. You met each one, rolling into him. 

It wasn’t long before he was on your throat, kissing and nipping the skin, his hands exploring the rest of your body. Your ran your fingers through his hair, sighing sweety when his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, slipping the hard flesh into his mouth to suck. 

Face pressed against your chest, his movements became a little erratic, breathing heavy until he was panting. You moaned along, loving how he was making you feel. “You are honestly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He awed, voice raspy. 

You let out a weak chuckle, running your fingers through the ends of his hair. “Of course you would say that with a face full of my boobs.” 

He laughed too, kissing his way back up your chest, his hands pressing into the pillow as he leaned in for your mouth. You stared at one another for a little while, your moans mingling together, and it was the most intimate moment you’d ever shared with anyone. 

“Good?” He asked. You were unsure if he was asking how you were or if you were enjoying yourself, but regardless, the answer was the same. 

“Really good,” you smiled, running your hand down his chest. 

His thrust were getting messier, less controlled, less strategic, so it was no surprise when he had a confession to tell you, kissing you once again. “I’m-I’m… close.” 

He’d exceeded the predicted three pumps at least… “Hey, you can go a little harder,” you whispered against his mouth. 

He grunted, slacking at your words but quickly got a hold of himself. Each snap of his hips got firmer and harsher, fucking – because there was no other way to describe it – you into the expensive bed. Your cries of pleasure came out stunted and unsteady, his own grunts louder now, gruffer as he chased his end. 

“Seokjin –!” Your hands fell to his ass, holding him tight as he pounded into you. “Don’t stop,” you encouraged, which seemed to tip him over the edge – quickly. 

“Fuck. Coming…”” His face fell into the crook of your neck, panting as he tried to keep moving, and then he froze, his body hot, partly sweaty, a long drawn-out groan sounding against your ear as he came. 

You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him to you because in all honesty, you didn’t want to let him go. You could feel his heart beating against your chest rapidly, even after he’d partially caught his breath, and you knew yours was beating just as fast. You kissed his shoulder when he kissed yours, and slowly he lifted his head, turning to give you a drunken smile. He sighed contently. “That honestly beats any orgasm I’ve ever given myself lately.” 

“I should hope so!” You burst out laughing, not quite expecting those to be his first words and he immediately joined you before hugging you tight. 

.

.

You awoke naturally, light from outside peeking through the loosely closed drapes. Seokjin had his arm around you, his body curved into yours, and you could tell by his breathing he was still very much sound asleep. Proving your point, he grunted softly, rolling onto his back, his grip on you loosening. Carefully, you turned around to face him, taking in the sight of his sleeping form. His lips seemed to be pouted, eyebrows furrowed slightly – of course he had an adorable sleeping face. Of fricking course. 

The bed sheets were pushed down, draped across his pelvis, one hip sticking out, while his broad chest and toned stomach laid bare. You found yourself smiling, insanely happy, wondering if you’d been a saint in a past lifetime – you had to have been. How else had you hit the jackpot? A kind-hearted, beautiful man with a banging body? You’d struck big. 

Wanting to leave him sleep longer, you got up quietly, needing to pee, not worrying that you were butt naked, and as you left the bathroom, you moved to the closet (room) to fish for your phone in your purse. You’d left it there all evening yesterday, not wanting to be interrupted, and low and behold you had a bunch of notifications waiting for you on the screen. You got back into bed, getting comfy before you scrolled through them. Most were unimportant, news updates and social media notifications. You had a text from your mom reminding you to call your grandmother soon, one reminder regarding your phone bill going out tomorrow and then, from half an hour ago, a text message from your best friend. Why the hell was she up so early on a Sunday?! 

Soojung (8:32am) Spill the details girl! How was Mr. Dilf 🥵👨🏻🍆💦 

You snorted, pretty loudly, couldn’t help it, and when you realised you shoved a hand over your mouth, hoping you hadn’t woken your boyfriend (yes, it felt so good to finally use that word) up. You glanced over, but his eyes were still shut, a peaceful look on his face, so with a relieved inner sigh, you went back to your phone, wondering how you should reply. You had quite a lot to say, messaging her “the details” wouldn’t work. Maybe you could give her a summary? Until tomorrow when you could call her while Seokjin was at work. Maybe you could meet her for lunch. And who knew, you’d probably have more to tell her come then –

“Good morning, beautiful.” 

You jumped when you heard Seokjin’s voice, his arm wrapping around you once more as he snuggled closer, encasing you in his body warmth. 

“Seokjin,” you greeted, instantly shoving your phone onto the nightstand, face down. “Good morning.” 

“Mmm.” He rubbed his face into the crook of your neck, burrowing his arm under the covers to touch your skin, hand cupping your waist. He was still sleepy, voice groggy. You settled into his hold, closing your eyes. With a kiss to the top of your shoulder, he spoke again.  “What were you snorting at?”

Your eyes immediately flew open. He’d heard that? “Nothing,” you tried to reply casually. 

He laughed, the throaty sound shooting up your body, leaving warmth in its wake. “Come on, something made you laugh.” He lifted his head, looking at you pointedly, plump lips pressed together, mouth curving up slightly. “You have to share, it’ll be rude not to.” 

It took you a second to give in. “Fine.” It was probably time to let him know anyway. Soojung might try to kill you, but she couldn’t get you if you were gated in at Seokjin’s home…  You reached for your phone and flashed the screen on, holding it out to him. “Soojung’s an idiot,” you sighed. 

He delicately held the back of your hand, steadying the device so he could read the messages. A second later he was deeply amused, lips quirking before he let out a little laugh. “Has that been my nickname the entire time?” 

“Maybe…” Amongst other things… They could wait till later though. 

He hummed, trying to keep his expression casual, but you could tell by his eyes how amused (and smug) he was. “The emojis add a nice touch.” 

You rolled your eyes, about to tell him to shut up, but immediately his lips were pressed against yours. He kissed you sweetly – which was all just an act. When he pulled away, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, tone arrogant. “So… how was Mr. Dilf?”

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed. This couldn’t be happening. He was just as bad as Soo and Taehyung. 

Laughing loudly, he kissed you again, caging you under him smoothly. Your hands reached for his biceps, feeling them flex underneath you. “Was it good enough for a round two? Don’t expect me to keep my hands off you,” he told you, his fingers tickling your stomach as his face fell to your neck, kissing and biting the skin. 

You began to laugh, squirming under him, but no matter how much you tried to free yourself it was impossible. “Stop,” you whined. “Seokjin, you’re tickling me!” He eased off with the tickling but his mouth only seemed to ramp up, his tongue licking up your throat. “You’re so sexy,” he groaned, meeting your gaze, and instantly laughed. “I love embarrassing you.” 

You grumbled, realising you’d started to blush. “I’m not embarrassed,” you insisted. “I’m turned on.” Two could play at that game. Seokjin’s eyes widened comically, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

“Yeah?” He murmured, getting a hold of himself, mouth ghosting over yours. You nodded, dragging your hands down his back to settle on his ass. You could feel his dick rousing between your thighs. It was so easy to get him. He was like putty in your hands. 

“You’re okay though, mm?” He asked, tone softening as he stared into your eyes. “Did you enjoy last night?”

“I thought that was obvious,” you informed him, but his tenderness didn’t go ignored. God, you were really lucky. “I feel so happy,” you grinned, moving to clasp your arms around his neck. He grinned too, teeth on show, and then you couldn’t hold off any longer, kissing him eagerly.  

“Fuck,” he breathed, after you’d just licked a strip up his jaw line. His hands clung to hips. “I want you in so many ways.” 

You gave him a dangerous smirk. “We have all week, I’m sure you’ll be successful.” 

Groaning, he seemed beside himself, skin hot and sweaty, his hair dishevelled, falling into his eyes, cheeks patched red. Finally, he settled on a decision. “Would you like to shower with me?”

“Okay,” you replied instantly, your excitement already tenfold, and suddenly you were in his arms, rising off the bed to be carried (naked) bridle style to the bathroom. “Seokjin!” You squealed, clinging onto him tightly, but all he did was laugh. You could get used to this. 

His walk-in shower was grand, practically a separate wet room – two glass doors leading inside and a marbled tiled bench to the left with two panelled windows behind it. There were two showerheads – one large one attached to the ceiling and the other jutting out from the wall. Seokjin chose the centre one, knocking it on and enclosing you both in hot water. Warmth radiated from beneath your feet too – heated flooring, of course. 

You spent the next ten minutes wrapped together kissing, hands exploring one another’s soapy bodies. It wasn’t long before there was a very obvious erection bobbing against your stomach. “Someone says hello again,” Seokjin hummed against your mouth, nipping your bottom lip before he broke away and chuckled. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve been the cause of many an awkward boner.” 

You laughed, hooking one arm around his neck. “I noticed.” Your other hand wrapped around his dick, the wetness of his skin making it easy to glide your fist along the veiny shaft. You gazed up at him, admiring the way he’d pushed his wet hair above his forehead. He looked incredibly handsome – so handsome, you were finding it hard to control yourself. “Was this one of your ways?” You murmured. 

“Maybe,” he said with a smile, huffing out a little when your thumb grazed the sensitive slit across the head of his member. 

“I have a better idea…” You whispered, pushing a little at his chest. “Sit.” 

He obeyed, sitting on the bench while watching you wordlessly (but curiously), his eyes flashing when you moved to kneel in front of him. “Fuck,” he muttered, dick twitching in anticipation. You took him in your fist again, feeling oddly confident as you flicked out your tongue. It had been a long time since you’d sucked dick but you were more than ready. 

You washed your tongue across the head, hearing him grunt above you, and encouraged, you took him in your mouth, sucking firmly around the tip. His hands instantly reached for your head, fingers carding through your hair. He groaned lowly, thighs tense, but when you started to jerk your fist along his shaft, he relaxed into the pleasure, murmuring your name. 

“Okay, this idea seems better than mine,” he admitted, voice tight. 

You hummed in agreement, vibrations travelling up his length which made him groan, fingers in your hair tightening. Taking him deeper, you washed and swirled your tongue as best you could around the thick flesh. Seokjin’s length was impressive, but you had all week to grow accustomed to it, for now, you had your hand, continuing to stimulate him with both that and your mouth. The water from the shower hit your back and calves, the heat beneath you making sure you didn’t grow cold. 

“Should we go back to the bedroom?” Seokjin asked, sounding concerned, despite how good you were making him feel. A hand ran down your back soothingly. “Your knees will start aching.” 

Pulling off him, a string of saliva that attached you breaking apart, you shook your head and ran your palm all the way up his length, twisting against the tip. He bucked into your hold. “It’ll be worth it.” 

Seokjin let out a low growl, eyes dark. “Don’t say things like that.” 

You smirked, spreading your saliva up and down him slowly before speeding up, concentrating on the head. Seokjin’s mouth was open, his breathing shallow, chest littered with red blotches, making it painfully obvious how aroused he was. You wanted to run your hands all over the muscular torso, mouth too – but that could wait. First of all, you wanted to make him cum. 

“You have a pretty big dick. Has anyone ever told you that?” You purred, eyes flicking down to his crotch. 

Seokjin grinned confidently, the hand in his hair reaching to cup your cheek. “You seemed to handle it very well last night.” 

Oh. Heat exploded through your body, settling between your legs, and you took him back in your mouth, a hiss leaving his throat. He tapped your chin, gaining your attention. “Y/N, look at me,” he commanded softly. 

And you did. You watched every bit of pleasure that flitted across his face as you continued to suck his dick, never breaking eye contact, even when he did; eyelids closed, face scrunched up as he came down your throat a few minutes later…

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[luimagines]

Hi! I have a request, but first i wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! The length + amount of time you put into these prompts is insanely good. Now! Onto the request, how would the boys react to a reader from a more modern era? Maybe a more modernized hyrule or our current point in time?

Masterlist

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm happy to see the response even if this blog is still relatively new.

I hope I do your prompt justice.

I probably could have done a headcanon list but I was hit with inspiration.

I also might have given Reader some backstory.

Scenario below the cut! It’s long, take caution.

It was a cool night, but you didn't mind. Your bed was warm, the WiFi was fast and even if it was three AM on a school night, you managed to keep yourself giggling with cat videos and blursed memes until the words and colors merged.

A night well spent.

But it led to questionable decisions.

Even if the shredded cheese in the fridge was beginning to seem a more and more enticing snack, your body was tempted to succumb to slumber.

Until a large purple light encompassed the entirety of your window.

Something was in your backyard.

Aliens. Your tired brain supplies and you sprint to the glass and push away the curtains. Is this it? Is this where I'm kidnapped and never seen or heard from again?

You pull out your phone and open up the camera.

"Pics or it didn't happen." You remind yourself and snap a few before showing your face.

What you see isn't what you're expecting. Instead of a flying saucer in the sky beaming down a laser or a weird pear shaped space craft on top of the grass, there's a single panel of glowing light, swirling with black accents that creeps in a circular motion.

"Cheese and crackers...." You gasp and begin to blatantly stare at it with no regard to whether something may be coming out of it.

You wait and nothing happens.

You wait some more and nothing happens.

You spend an hour watching this portal that has appeared out of nowhere, waiting for something to happen, willing for something to happen. But you get nothing.

The unknown stares right back at you, unblinking and unchanged.

Go through it. A voice tells you. What if there's something on the other side?

"I'm going to die." You gulp and take a deep breath.

Who else gets a chance like this? The voice talks again. This could be a grand step towards a more modern society. A whole new world could be on the other side, waiting, reaching out, calling to humanity!

You think you a see a shadow move behind the portal and out of sight but it’s gone before you can even process it.

"Should I call the police?" You step away from the window, ignoring the thoughts, the voice- you're too tired to know if it's your own any more. What's the plan? How does one go about something like this?

Where’s your sense of adventure? Pack a bag and go! What if it goes away?

That last thought seems to get through to your tired brain and for a reason beyond your understanding, it latches onto it.

Now you’re excited.

You run to the closet and take out your old backpack. It used to be for school but it was fancier since it was the only one you could get. The bag had a replaceable water bag with a plastic straw connected through the back of it and the straps have just worn down enough to where they’re actually comfortable. It doubled as a hiking backpack and came with its own insulated lunch box that clasped on the back of it.

It’ll finally serve its purpose.

You quickly roll up your favorite blanket and strap it in tightly beneath the lunch box. You’re quick to take out two extra outfits and pack them as well as change out of your pajamas.

Ok. What would you need? You don’t know where you’d be going so this has to a catch all kind of deal.

You pack away your swiss army knife first for good measure. A solar powered charger for your phone and an extra pair of socks follow suit even after you’ve picked out the extra clothes.

You take out the water bag and run to fill it all the way to max capacity as you think of any other necessities.

You’d need food. You have a small jar of peanut butter and granola bars that can fit in the lunch box. You can bring your extra water bottle and put in the side pockets of the backpack, and maybe bring some of those powered flavor packets your brother loves so much. You think he has lemonade and some green tea ones.

Those would be great. He won’t mind, hopefully.

You let the bag overfill momentarily before running back to shove it in your bag. with the lid screwed tight.

Next you run to the kitchen, grabbing the first things that you thought of already and begin to look around for more.

You grab an unopened pack of beef jerky, a bag of veggie sticks and a half eaten bag of dried mangos.

During your search you grab the water bottle and fill that too.

You return to your room with your bounty and begin to carefully put everything in the box. With some more deliberation, you run back to the kitchen and make yourself a quick sandwich, eat it, make another one and pack that as well.

You look out side the window and the portal is still there.

The sun is beginning to rise now so you’re trying to go as fast as you can, unless you want to neighbors to think something is going on.

Even if it is.

You’re about to leave but in a stroke of brilliance, you run to pack sunscreen and bug spray as well. You see a small first aid pack that was bought recently for when you would take your family vacation but you reason that it might one of the most important things you’d have if you got hurt.

Into the bag it goes.

You grab your hoodie before you leave the door, wrap it around your waist and pocket your phone, your headphones and your wallet.

You feel immediately under packed when you step outside and see the portal up close.

It’s weirdly triangle shaped, you think and step closer.

You reach your hand out and try to touch it. It feels as if you put your hand through a humidifier but it’s not wet. It’s misty and cold but not necessarily unpleasant.

An idea hits you right before you take your first step through.

You pull up one of the earlier photo’s you took and send it to your friend’s group chat. It showed up in my backyard. I decided to make a bad late night decision and I’m going through. If you never hear from me again, I want you all to fight over my electronics. Winner takes all. Godspeed.

And you step through.

You had first assumed that it would merely take you tot he other side but very quickly realize that you have to walk through it.

The first part still had a little light but with time, it got darker. So dark that you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.

You kept walking.

As fast as the light disappeared, it came back and you stepped into the light of an open field, right in front of one, two, three, four, nine males that had appeared to be traveling towards you or rather, towards the portal.

The portal disappears in the process.

“Oh so we didn’t have to go through it! We had to gain another member!” One of them yells. “Would have been nice to know before we packed everything up!”

“Ho boy, where am I?” You ask and tighten your grip on your backpack. Why didn’t I bring a weapon?

They all had long tunics and swords on their backs. Old fashioned leather boots and hand bracers were the norm in this group and you realized very quickly that your jeans and t-shirt had wildly missed the memo.

“Dang, I didn’t think I’d walk into a LARP group. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smile. “I had no idea where the portal was going to take me. But if you would be so kind-”

“Wait, what’s LARP?” One of them speaks up. He was a dirty blond and somewhere in the middle of the group height wise. He wore a white cape like thing with blue designs on the back but you didn’t recognize the symbol.

“Live Action Role Play?” You tilt your head. “It’s why you’re all dressed like that? Right?”

“This is just our clothes.” What appears to be the youngest bounces up to you. “What are you wearing?”

“First I could grab in my closet.” You admit and look down on it. It’s one of your comfiest shirts and best looking pants. You’re a little proud of yourself for finding those in the dark.

“Weird.”

“We’re heroes. We’re all named Link.” Cape guy speaks up again. “Is it safe to assume that you’re in the same boat?”

“Heroes?” Your eyebrows furrow together. “I’m not a hero and my name’s not Link.”

You’re quick to tell them your name and you watch as the confusion covers their faces. “My brother’s name is Link though if that helps anything.”

“Oh we needed him!” The youngest groans and it instantly irks you.

“What would you need with a five year old?” You deadpan and cross your arms. 

The information stuns the group.

“The portal showed up in the middle of the night and I’m the one that went through it. I’m pretty sure I was the only awake to even see it. Are you telling me that it was for my little brother?” You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little pissed. “My baby brother was supposed to go through it? He was asleep! He’s five. What kind of logic is that?!”

“Well...” The biggest and oldest of them runs a hand over his face. You think he has some cool tattoos and sick scar going across his eye but he looks about as angry as you feel, so you don’t say anything. “It appears the gods truly do not care for the hero’s maturity, only his existence.”

“Ok...What’s with all this hero talk?” You bite back. “What did... Where am I?”

“Hyrule.” The second with cool face tattoos speaks up. He’s got a large fur pelt around his shoulders and you have to tighten your grip against your backpack again to keep from reaching out to touch it.

Even so you feel yourself deadpan even more. “Hyrule? Like the ancient empire? The one that collapsed more than two thousand years ago? That Hyrule?”

You’re inclined to not believe them and write all of them off as crazy... but you also walked through a portal. And your grandma did say that magic existed in the strangest forms.

They all share looks of concern and some begin to murmur quietly amongst themselves but you’re too far gone to even notice.

“Did I time travel?” The idea hits you like a bus and you feel your eyes widen as you stare beyond the group. You quickly take our your phone and unlock it.

No signal.

“Is that a type of Sheikah slate?” Someone asks you.

“I don’t know what that is.” You reply automatically. “Wait, hold on, what year is it?”

“Why don’t you tell us what year you’re from and we can start from there?” The darkest brunette of the group speaks up.

“202x PC” You say robotically, not really processing the world around you anymore.

“That’s...” The blond with a long blue scarf speaks up with a slight hiss. “...Beyond any of our timelines. You see, we all come from different worlds and eras of Hyrule’s history.”

“I don’t think you’re the farthest down anymore, Wild.”

“This would then make them my successor, right?”

“It would make their brother your successor.” Someone amends. “I think they just jumped in his place.”

“Leave my brother alone.” You snap back into the present, pocketing your [hone again. “Ok, you know what, screw it. I don’t know what you’d want my brother for but I’m here now. I’d gladly take his place if it means he gets to stay home!”

“Hey.” A boy with pink hair stalks up to you looking a little more serious than you’d like.

“Nice hair dude, way to defy the gender norms.” You smirk a little before genuinely grinning, hoping to quell the tension. “What product do you use? It looks like Artic Fox but not every place sells their brand.”

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about but what happened to Ganon in your world? How have you been handling it?” He snaps and places his hands on his hips.

“Ganon? Like my old principle? That’s a name I haven’t heard in forever.” You’re confused again. “Last I heard he joined the police force only to be reassigned out of state. I don’t know what’s happening with him. Kinda hope he gets fired though. He’s not a bad guy but he’s not someone you’d want in that kind of position of power, you know.”

“Police force?”

You blinked and look them all over. They look very medieval. “Oh... You don’t have that...”

You begin to think about your history lessons and what they might be familiar with if they’re telling the truth about being from Hyrule.

“Ya’ll got knights?”

Many, almost all of them nod, a few with face of despair already on them before you finish speaking.

“It’s kind of like that. Mixed with a towns guard position... kinda. They enforce laws... at least they’re supposed to but the whole system is flawed and racist and really needs to be dismantled for the abuse of power that they have-”

“Abuse? Of power?” You have their attention again.

“It’s stupid and it won’t really make any sense if I try to explain because I doubt you have anything similar but it’s basically a group of people given the right to treat the public in anyway they like for their own benefit because they have no one telling them that they can’t.” You groan and slowly begin to feel your lack of sleep catch up to you. 

You slowly reach to behind you and sit down on the dirt, looking at all of them. “Mr. Dragmire wasn’t like...Demise or anything but he was a huge jerk. No one liked him. He liked me though. I remember that. I was the envy of the whole school because I somehow got on his good side while everyone else wants to strangle him. I think he was transferred for some misdemeanor or something like that... like he might have been throwing hands with someone he wasn’t supposed to. I never heard all the details. I didn’t really care for it when it happened either. I’m pretty sure he lost that fight though. The dude looked like a blast of wind could have knocked him over let alone someone’s knuckle sandwich.”

“I would love to hear more about this.” The youngest sits next to you with a large grin on his face. His eyes are bright and his body language reminds you of your cousin Zelda. You instantly think they’d get along like a house on fire. “What are your monsters like?”

“Monsters?” You tilt your head. “Be a little more specific bud, it depends on where you’re from.”

“You have that many?!”

“It depends on if you believe they’re real or not.”

“Speaking of monsters, can you fight?” The shortest walks up to you. You like that his tunic is stitched up with multiple colors and designs. It gives it personality, you think. “Do you have a weapon you’re more comfortable with?”

The question throws you off your rhythm and you don’t fight your wince. “What would happen if I say that I do not, in fact, have any sort of weapon on me?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” Pink guy speaks up again. “That pack is huge, there has to be something in there.”

“It’s food, water and extra clothes my guy.” You lean back against said backpack since it won’t let you lay down with it still on. “Not a lot of space for anything else. I’m pretty good at hand to hand combat though. Karate’s a good way to fight out stress.” 

“Your bag’s not magic?”

“Why the hell would it be magic? ...Are you trying to tell me magic actually exists?” You raise an eyebrow as your eyes begin to close against your will. “I know my grandma said it does but I thought she meant like fairies and shadow demons.. and bigfoot. Can’t forget him, he’s the real MVP... You know...Children’s bedtime stories and stuff like that, it’s not real. But like magic magic? Magic items and the like? Find me Tinkerbell and I’ll show you Neverland, that’s what I say.”

“Are you serious?”

“Second star to the right, straight on till morning.” You respond.

There’s a moment of silence as the group in front of you processes your words. It’s hard to tell their reaction since you’re not looking at them but you no longer have the energy to do anything else.

“Are you falling asleep right now?” It’s the one they called Wild.

“I...” You try to open your eyes. They don’t budge. “I haven’t slept in nearly 20 hours... I think. I might have past 24 hours a while ago actually. Portal showed up at like four in the morning... I had to get up at six and I didn’t sleep at all before then.”

More silence.

“Great another one.” Someone scoffs.

You snort.

“Why did we pack up camp again?”

“No one kill me.” You say right before you lose consciousness. “Please and thank you.”

“They’re doomed.”

“Have some faith Vet. They stepped in for their little brother. That has to mean something?”

“They’re in for a rude awakening, and that’s all I have to say about it.”

[winterscaptain]

take the day.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: a treat for the grown-ups in the room! this was inspired by an ask from many moons ago, and a couple of ideas submitted in the form. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, tell me what you think (and practice safe sex)! this fic contains explicit content and is 18+. minors do not interact or prepare to be blocked! also some tags aren’t working - please double check your urls below!

words: 2.8k warnings: smut (p in v penetration, [consentual & monogamous] unprotected sex, creampie, counter sex, floor sex, oral [reader receiving], very light soft dom!aaron),language, food mention

summary: “if you can’t laugh with your partner during sex, break up.” - my sister-in-law. au!november 2021.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

“Take the day. Nothing’s going on here and we don’t have any cases for once.” 

You tuck the phone under your chin as you pack the last of the kids’ lunches. “Really?”

Emily’s smile is audible through the phone. “Really. It’s Friday, and isn’t Hotch out today?” 

“Yeah, but mostly just to avoid the meetings with -” 

Just then, Jack rockets down the stairs, throws his backpack over his shoulder, and grabs his lunch off the counter. With a kiss to your cheek, he jets out the door with a quick, “Bye, Mom!” 

You blink rapidly, kind of taken aback by the abrupt nature of his departure. He can drive himself to school now, but he doesn’t always take advantage of it. 

“Sorry, Em. Jack just left for school like a damn tornado and I gotta get Isaac out of bed.”

She laughs. “No worries. Swing by my office when you drop the girls at preschool. I’ve got a couple of things for Aaron.” 

+++

When you return, the house is eerily quiet. 

You toe off your shoes and round the corner to the office with an armful of files in your hand. 

Unceremoniously, you drop them on his desk. “These are from Emily.” 

He huffs a laugh through his nose without looking up. “Thanks.” 

With a sly little smile, you leave him to his work. 

Padding across the hall to the master bedroom, you light the fireplace and replace your winter clothes with one of his dress shirts, two buttons holding it closed over the middle of your abdomen, and a pair of fuzzy socks. 

You’re grateful for the central heating in the house. You’d never be able to pull this off without it. 

After you sneak into the kitchen for a glass of water (you know - the ruse of usefulness), you return to him and place the water next to his left hand. He hardly looks up but mutters his thanks under his breath. 

You take your time leaving the office, just reaching the door when you hear, “Wait, hey. Whoa. Back up.” 

You don’t follow instructions, walking out of his office and into the kitchen, making play at putting lunch together. 

A pair of familiar hands slide up your thighs and underneath the shirt.

“Is this mine?” 

You hum in the affirmative. “Thought you’d like it. It looks good on you so I figured it would look alright on me.” 

“Uh huh. Yeah, well, if those were the rules I’d have to hand over my entire wardrobe.” Aaron spins you and presses you back into the island, your back arching as he crowds closer to you, his mouth hovering over your neck. “You look better in my clothes than I do.” 

You hum again, but your brain is too fuzzy to come up with a retort. He laves kisses over your neck, dropping to your collarbone and brushing his shirt off your shoulder. You decide in that moment to let go, relaxing back into the counter and giving him implicit permission to have his way with you. 

“Yeah?” He asks, feeling you sink back. 

You nod, bringing your hand to his hair and pulling him to your lips. “Yeah.” 

With a dark laugh, he turns you around again and snags your hands, pressing them to the cold granite countertop. You’re stretched taut, your legs already shaking with anticipation. 

His hands slide up your arms and over your back, the starched fabric of his dress shirt a delicious texture over your skin. He reaches your hips, his hands wandering under the hem of his shirt and hooking his fingers in the fabric of your underwear, practically tearing them over your ass and down your legs. You step out of them and he nudges them out of the way. 

He kicks your feet apart at the ankles, spreading your legs and forcing your back into a gentle arch. 

A perk of law enforcement training - some moves translate well in the bedroom. 

Or the kitchen. 

You hear him unbutton his jeans and free himself, not even pretending the last half-hour hasn’t been its own kind of foreplay. An empty house is practically an open invitation at this point. 

He runs the head of his cock through your folds, pressing against your clit with every pass. You drop your forehead to the countertop with a whine, letting the cool temperature soothe your heated skin. 

Aaron doesn’t quit rutting against your wetness, only just teasing your entrance before sliding up to your clit again. From experience, you know he could theoretically do this for hours, waiting for you to get desperate, squirmy, and whiney.

It’s working. You wiggle back against him, but his hands cover yours with a smack as he shushes you, his hips pressing yours flush against the edge of the counter. You’re sure the granite against you would hurt if it wasn’t so hot. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, low and soft in your ear. 

You swallow as his lips wander over your neck and shoulder. “I want you.” 

He hums in understanding, sucking bruises along the line of your shoulder blade. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Your answer is breathless, and you shove your fingers between his from underneath, holding on as best you can. 

“Do you know how good you look in my shirt and nothing else?”

You nod. 

“Do you know what it does to me when you look like that? My wife in my clothes?”

You don’t answer, knowing it’ll only pay off for you. He lets go of your hands and grips your hips, yanking you back toward him. It’s only an inch or so, but you can feel his cock pressed against you, the cold metal buttons against your ass, the coarse feeling of his jeans against the skin of your thighs. 

“Do you want me to show you what it does to me? What you do to me?” 

You swallow and nod, pressing your chest into the counter, bracing yourself. “Yes.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, plenty slick with your arousal - you’re practically dripping, soaking your thighs and the apex of your legs. 

Aaron slams into your heat, all the way to your cervix, with a searing kiss pressed to the middle of your back to smother his groan. You cry out from deep in your chest, drawing it out as he pulls back, dragging against your walls before filling you again, his hips audibly making contact with your ass. 

It’s rare you get a chance like this. Even at night, with the kids’ rooms upstairs, you have to be relatively quiet. Aaron, when he really lets go, can get loud, and so can you, with his encouragement. So, needless to say, your opportunities are few and far between. 

A steady stream of curses leave him through gritted teeth, watching his own hands pull you onto and push you off of his cock, bottoming out every time. 

You’re not even sure what noises you’re making, but there are a lot of them. You unstick your palms from the granite, reaching around to press your fingertips into the part of Aaron’s hip you can find. 

He leaves you then, falling out of your reach as he pulls out and turns you around again. 

Suddenly, you’re over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

How does he do that?

The smell of his body wash from his morning shower lingers in the air as he brings you into the bedroom, dropping to his knees on the soft rug in front of the lit fireplace. 

He supports your shoulders as he tips you backwards, sealing your lips in a searing kiss. Your hands are in his hair, more for the feeling of it than for support. 

The plush rug is warm from the fire, a stark contrast to the cool kitchen island. His weight on top of you seems to sink right into your bones, a feeling of safety and love soaking into your skin. 

Much to your chagrin, he’s still fully clothed, his pants loose around his hips and his shirt hiked up to his ribs. You find the hem and separate yourself from his mouth only long enough to yank it over his head and throw it toward the bed. 

He laughs into his next kisses, but it turns into a sigh as your hands run over his sides, pressing firmly into his waist, before dragging up his back and back into his hair. 

“Are you gonna let me go?” He asks against your mouth. 

You shake your head. “Don’t wanna.” 

He laughs, tipping your head back and peppering kisses to your jaw and neck. “Fine.” 

His kisses meander down, nosing a path past the collar and buttons of his shirt on his way to your chest. He pauses at your breasts, drawing patterns with his tongue until you’re taut and puckered under his touch. 

His hands follow his mouth, unbuttoning the two buttons you’d done up to play at modesty, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He reaches your hips and scoops your legs onto his shoulders, kissing a path down the creases of your thighs. 

When he finally wraps his lips around your clit, your hips buck into him. He laughs, sending a buzz up your spine, and locks your hips in his hands, holding you securely to his mouth. 

You resist the urge to bring your hand to your face, letting your whimpers and groans leave you at full volume. One hand finds a home in his hair while the other claws at the carpet. He could probably eat you out in his sleep at this point, what with the way he knows the pace, the pattern, the pressure you like. He’s consistent but never boring, always managing to lull you into a dull hum of pleasure, your legs shaking under his hands, before pulling something that makes you jump and whine. 

His warm breath fans across your lower belly, keeping him centered as he flicks his tongue against your clit, dipping lower to your entrance, sliding back. He sucks your inner lips into his mouth, letting them go with obscene, wet pop before pulling your clit back into his mouth, feasting on you like a man starved. 

You clench around nothing, desperate for him to fill you with anything, anything to ease the want that courses through you. There might be a moment when you ask for something, but you’re not entirely sure. 

He chuckles, a dark and smug sound, but only continues until your center starts to throb, shocking your body with pleasure all the way to your fingertips. Aaron can feel it too, running his hand up your abdomen, reminding you to relax. 

You take the note, slowing your breath and relaxing into the floor. Your grip in Aaron’s hair doesn’t budge, tight and close to the root. 

He’s determined to get you off with his mouth alone, his fingers digging deeper into your hips to keep himself on track. 

The pulse of your walls continues until the tension crawls into the rest of your body. Your shoulders pull away from the rug as your body curls forward, your hips stuttering even under Aaron’s firm grip. Both of your hands wind into his hair and you fall over the edge, chanting his name. 

Your upper body twists, your cheek against the plush carpet as you convulse under his continuing ministrations. Your hips are still locked to the floor under his hands, braced by his shoulders and held by his mouth. You can feel his smile as he rides it out with you, backing off on the pressure as pleasure rolls through you in violent, overwhelming waves. 

Your jaw seems to be stuck open, your eyes wide as you stare into nothing. Aaron slows, the strokes of his tongue long and drawn-out against the length of your sex, before stopping entirely, pressing a kiss right above your clit. 

He crawls up your body, keeping some of his weight on you as he finds your lips again. You’re still boneless, catching your breath, shaking, and experiencing little shockwaves that irregularly catch your abs.

With that in mind, you can hardly kiss him back - instead, passively letting him smother you in affection, vaguely processing the fact you can taste yourself on his tongue. You wrap your ankles around his lower back, and he finally sheds his jeans and boxer briefs. 

“You good?” He asks. 

You nod. “Mhmm.” You reach between your bodies and stroke him a couple of times. “Gimme.” 

He laughs out loud then, kissing you soundly as he slides home. 

You whimper into his mouth, your overheated flesh alive with sensation as he rocks into you, nearly frictionless. He holds you tight, his hand splayed across your shoulders underneath the shirt you’re still (somehow) wearing. 

You let your mind wander a little, combing through Aaron’s hair with your fingers and tucking your face into his neck. 

It’s been ten years with him, almost exactly. You’re a far cry from the person you were then, and you think maybe Aaron is a different man, too. 

Not where it counts though. He’ll always be that chronically-stressed, endlessly-dedicated tightass who thinks too much and speaks too little. If anyone asked, he’s still the smartest, warmest man you know. Privately, you know he’s also the dumbest invulnerable moron who ever drew breath. 

That makes you laugh, and you wrap your arms further around him. He doesn’t stop, but cranes his neck to look at you. 

“What?”

You shake your head, bringing your hands to the sides of his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Just thinking about you.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, his head tilting sardonically to the side as he snaps his hips to yours, making you jump and clench around him. “I’d hope so.”

Flipping onto his back, he pulls you on top of him and has the audacity to wink at you. 

The pair of you giggle and laugh your way to your destination. His laughing smothers his curses as he cums, fucking up into you and holding you flush to him by the hips. You follow him by scant seconds, bracing yourself on his chest as you drag out your orgasm, enjoying the rush and the laughter and just being together. 

When you both completely run out of steam, you lift yourself off of him and tip sideways, landing flat on your back out on the rug. 

This poor thing has seen more use today than in its entire lifetime. 

You roll over after a second, propping your head on your elbow. Aaron mirrors you, meeting your eyes. 

“That was fun,” he says. 

You nod, bringing your hand to the graying hair at his temple. “Don’t get too many chances for this kind of fun anymore, huh?”

He sighs and pulls your hand from his hair, kissing your palm and folding your hand in his. “No, we don’t, but it’s…” He thinks for a moment. “It’s nice to appreciate it more than we used to.”

“Yeah.”

+++

You twist back and forth on the barstool, watching Aaron slice an apple and some strawberries. You both did away with the lunch idea, deciding it was too much work to put something together. 

It feels awfully like your first weekend together, the only differences are in the scenery. Even the wardrobe is similar. You’re in the shirt he started in, not much else, and he’s in his jeans, shirtless and barefoot. 

It’s nice to see him wandering around with a kind of carelessness. You’re not sure any of the little ones have seen him without a shirt, not for any real length of time that they would remember. He told you once that he doesn’t want to scare them. 

You reminded him that this is their normal, too. They’ve never known him without the scars so they’ll always know him with them. The little ones don’t know to be scared. 

Still, he’s careful. 

It’s a work in progress. 

“What were you thinking about before?” He asks, rounding the island. He goes to lean on it, but hesitates. “We have to wipe down the counter.”

You snort and take the plate from him, headed for the living room. “It’s been ten years and you’ve never changed.”

He rolls his eyes and follows you, sitting down in his chair so you can sit in his lap, the plate of fruit on the coffee table. “Is predictable so bad?”

“No,” you reply, your eyebrows raised. “I was just answering your question.”

He huffs a laugh down his nose. “You haven’t changed, either, for the record.”

“Is that a good thing?”

With a smile, he pulls you gently by the side of the head, tucking you under his chin. “It’s a very good thing.” Then, almost inaudibly -

“A great thing.”

+++

tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster @arganfics @angelsbabey @venusbarnes @quillvine @stxrrywildflower @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @hotchslatte @avengersbau @ssareidbby @qvid-pro-qvo @joanofarkansass @popped-weasels @reidtomestyles @crazyshannonigans @iconicc @deagibs @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos @bwbatta @lotties-journey-abroad @ssahotchnerr @unicorn-bitch @capricorngf @zizzlekwum @cevanswhre @this-broken-band-girl @word-scribbless @averyhotchner @reidingmelodies @shesbiochem4 @violet-amxthyst @kelstark@mandylove1000 @sunshine-em @starsandasteroids @roses-and-grasses @ssworldofsw @sunflowersandotherthings @little-blue-fishie @happyvol7 @ssa-holmes @ssahotchner99 @triangularroses @vagabond-ing @itsmytimetoodream  @magic_in_the_eyes_of_the_beholder

[smutandfluffohmy]

His Sweater #2

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairings: George Weasley X Slytherin!Reader A/N: The time-line of events is altered for story telling purposes, something that will be very obvious if people want me to continue on with the story. I think this is the closest to slow burn I’ve gotten to in my entire fanfic career. Hope y’all can understand because asgyv my brain would rot if I tried to line it up with canon completely.

Read Part 1 here

I have no wand, no socks and I’m wearing a Gryffindors sweater. This could go south terribly fast and I’m hoping for any other cardinal direction. If all else fails I could always throw a punch and run to my bed.For the second time that morning I almost crashed into someone. Seriously an entire hallway but we are still walking on the same side.

Draco stared at me from my face to the sweater, I wish he would notice my bunny slippers too. I also wished he would’ve seen me earlier in my utter Slytherin colors pride.

“Interesting sweater y/l/n” Draco said breaking the silence, scrunching his eyebrows at me. I could feel the Slytherin pride sermon bubbling inside of him.

“Interesting ingredients Malfoy” I answered back. Ingredients to make draught of peace, I’m surprised he had the ingredients, I’m surprised he was nervous and I’m surprised he was going to do it with unkempt hair.

“This didn’t happen and we didn't see each other.” He stiffened, straightening his back the glass containers clinking together.

“Brilliant as always.” I smiled, nodding at him and he doing the same. I’m sure if someone was looking at us right now we looked comical with our overly formal head nods. Starting to walk past each other, both of us going to our destination and trying not to think much about the other on our walk there.

Me, George’s sweater and my bunny slippers were home free, all we had to do is get back to the dorms without bumping into anyone else. But I don't know if it’s my seniority over the kid or perhaps as Snape’s potions assistant I felt responsible or even because I was just worried that made me turn around “Draco.” I called out to him.

He stopped, turning to face me “Y/n.”

Perhaps I should tell him that it’s 7 drops of hellebore not 8, or maybe that it’s supposed to be stirred both counter and clock wise or how it has to simmer for exactly 7 minutes. “If it’s not silver don't drink it.” Was all I could say and by far the best advice I could give him.

“Dully noted.” He said giving me a tight lipped smile, almost forced as if I was forcing him to give me a smile. “Thanks.” he muttered underneath his breath, his tightlipped smile softening at the edges.

The walk back to the dorms was no longer nor shorter than the walk from. Tho I was a bit warmer on both the inside and the outside all thanks to George. Climbing the stairs down to the common room I felt tired and heavy.

I want to sleep.I wish I could sleep but I’m afraid if I fall asleep, I must just wake up to having found out this was all but a fleeting dream. Nothing more but a hot chocolate induced fever dream. 

Slipping off my slippers I walked to the edge of the carpet. Curling my toes I wondered if the shock of the coldness would wake me up, still I had to know. Stepping on the cold floor I didn’t wake up nor did I bolt up in bed.The cold floor lets me know that this was real, I was truly awake. But I don't think one knows the true lengths the mind would go to to make up a dream.

Tiptoeing into my dorm I changed into my clothes for the day, taking extra care to fold George’s sweater in a way that both said ‘I took care of it for you’ and ‘I didn’t spend half an hour overthinking this’. Perhaps I was putting too much pressure on folding techniques but I wasn’t about to be exposed by the way sleeves folded over. Getting my school bag ready I laid everything out on the bed.

“Potions.Herbology.Alchemy” I said touching each textbook, books I’ve carried around a hundred times.But I was afraid my lack of sleep would magically turn my Herbology book into a history of magic and I wouldn’t realize till I was standing in Professor Sprouts class.

I spent all of breakfast looking for George but there was absolutely no sign of him. Every time I thought I spotted his hair from across the dinning hall it was just Ron, twice it was just Ginny and once even an overly toasted plate of hash browns.

My first class was to help Snape. A couple of over brewed potions helped keep me on my toes and for that I was grateful.

Second was alchemy.Where nothing particularly interesting happened and had me periodically sticking my hand in my bag just to double,triple, quadruple check that George’s jumper didn’t grow legs and run away.

Third was Herbology. The class I was waiting for, finally a class with Gryffindors that the Weasley twins were in. Walking a bit too quickly and a bit too excitedly to class I wasn’t the first to get there.I blame it on the ever moving stairs. Professor Sprouts lesson dragged on too long for my liking or maybe it was the fact that I was drilling holes at the back that George’s head that made it all drag on.

“Mind the Mandrakes children.” Professor Sprout said with a wave of her hand leaving us to work. Perhaps it was age that made you think of anyone younger than you as children, but we were all very grown up thank you very much.

Leaning over the table I whispered “Psst George.”. No movement.

“George” I called out a bit louder but again no efforts to look back at me. Blimey perhaps it was just how tall he was that he couldn’t hear me from up there or maybe he was just that hard of hearing.

“Bloody hell Weasley I’m calling you.” I called out again poking him with my wand, surely he wasn't hard of hearing and touch desensitized enough to ignore me. Reaching closer in an attempt to tug at his robes my wand fell to the ground as a shrill screech filled the class.

“What?Sorry can’t hear anything over the Mandrake” George said turning to face me, shrugging his shoulders with the screaming Mandrake in his hands. Surely he wasn’t that much of an idiot to pull a Mandrake out of the pot and surely I wasn’t that much of an idiot to be smitten by the smile he flashed me when he did it.

Finally I ended my day just like it began. In Snape’s classroom, only now it was my class messing up potions not first years.

I wonder if it was something I said. Perhaps the carrot comment was too out of hand or maybe they bumped into Draco or maybe he was a bit crossed because he was in fact cold. Am I thinking too much into it? Did he see my sweater fold and thought it was too messy?

Before I knew it potions was dismissed and I still had George Weasleys sweater in my bag. Getting ready for the game my mind still wandered too far for me to get it back, putting on far too many Slytherin colors for it not to be comical. The Slytherin common room buzzed with anticipation and excitement with people laying one the floor writing banners for friends and people writing friends and crushes quidditch number on banners and faces and arms. 

Sitting on the stands with the game dragging on, I put my cold hands inside the neatly folded sweater that was hidden inside my robes. I wonder if there was a time limit? A countdown? Were we even half way through?Admittedly I don't know a bloody thing about Quidditch just like I didn’t know a bloody thing about another sport. 

Anticipation filled me, wondering when if at all out spirit section was going to mirror that of Gryffindor. Seconds felt eternal and I started to worry that they had been caught in the act. 

Before I could continue tormenting myself the colors around me changed from green and silver to reds and golds. 

Pansy Parkinson that was seated just behind me looked down to her robes horrified they’ve been turned. I almost felt bad for her and nearly reached over to tell her that red was unfortunately her color. The look on her face when her ‘Go Draco’ banner had been hexed to read ‘Go Harry’ was something you expected when someone tells you you’ve just stepped on hippogriff poo. 

Snape looked crossed at the entire Gryffindor house and even Godric Gryffindor  as if he himself planned this all out from beyond the grave to give Salazar Slytherin a last jab. I almost felt guilty looking at the face of my professor, a fleeting guilt but nonetheless guilt. Shouts around me cheering on Slytherin were abruptly replace with cheers for Gryffindor. 

Smiling looking up at the players my eyes darted around for a glimpse of George or even Fred, but they all looked the same in their uniform. 

“Go George!” I yelled over the loud burst of ‘Go Gryffindor’s that surrounded me.

“Go Fred!” I yelled out for good measure, adding it as to not make him feel left out tho I doubt they could hear me over all the commotion. But nevertheless I would know even if they didn’t.

The game came to an end as Harry reached up with the snitch grasped firmly in his hand. Grunts filled the Slytherin area, cursing at their changed clothes, cursed horns and now quidditch loss. I don’t know why everyone is upset this always happens at Gryffindor and Slytherin games, in fact at this point it seemed like a poorly written Quidditch plot. The fact that Harry always caught the snitch, if I didn't know any better I would have to say Harry and the golden snitch had a pact going on.

Around me people didn’t move instead they cursed and jabbed fingers at the Gryffindor tower. They must be really be crossed at Gryffindor to be standing around complaining under snow, or maybe their sheer hatred was keeping them warm. Getting up to leave because I wasn't neither cross nor warm to be standing around.

“Where are you going?” Christy asked me stopping her conversation over the horrid color combination Gryffindor had as if ours were any better.

“I need to go to the restroom. Besides I’m too cold to be standing here complaining.” I said walking away and she promptly went back to her conversation.

Walking down the Slytherin section, I made my way to the Gryffindor Quidditch player section. Somewhere I was highly banned from being in because I was neither a Gryffindor nor a quidditch player.

“I nearly fell off my broom hearing Slytherin chant for us.” Someone who I assumed was Harry said between laughter. A smile spread on my face thrilled I did in fact contribute to a great Weasley prank.

“Having them cheer for us was bloody brilliant! That had to be your best one yet!” Ron beamed at his brothers. Brilliant I got a stamp of approval not only from Harry Potter but from the small Weasley as well.

“Yea an awfully brilliant addition.” I said stepping into view.

The room felt silent and for I moment I wondered for what reason.They’ve just won shouldn't they be happy? So why do they have such long faces. Forgetting and simultaneously remembering that I in fact was that very reason, the walking Slytherin banner for the second time that day leaving people uncomfortable. Even without the silver and green perhaps something about me just reeked of Slytherin.

“You shouldn’t be in here Slytherin.” Ron said standing up to face me.The words held so much anger my mind wondered to see if I had ever caused any misfortune to the younger Weasley.

“I-I-I” My brain forgot all words or perhaps it had forgotten the ability to form any excuses. I didn’t expect a warm welcome but definitely not this much hostility.

“Going to tell Snape on us?” Harry said quirking his eyebrow at me, great I had the look of not only a Slytherin but a snitch as well. Perhaps it was the hair.

“Oi hold on that’s no way to talk to the lady of the hour.” George called out stepping from putting away his broom and jogging to stand next to me. A arm rested around my shoulder, I wonder how much of my red face I could blame on the snow.

Fred made his way to my other side, placing his hand on top of my head. “While it pains me to admit. Y/n was the one that came up with the horn bit.” He said ruffling my hair, George shifting the slightest bit closer to me. The amount of attention was too much for me and the bizarre looks on Harry and Rons face was enough to make me want to test my luck with the unforgiving blizzard forming outside. “Tho I do think I could've come up with it if I had some time.” Fred shrugged.

“Sure she did” Ron scoffed looking between his brothers to me.

“Cross my heart.” Fred said crossing his heart. 

“Then I take back my compliment.” Ron said, the brotherly hatred he had for his brother far outweighing any sort of imaginary feud he had going on with me.

“Can't do that it’s already gone to my head.” Fred shrugged earning a laugh from Harry and comments on how they had to start out sourcing their pranks now from Ron.

George lead me just outside as the conversation inside kept building with Fred insisting that it was his genius that rubbed off on me, as if I would let him rub anything near me.

“Who was it in the hallway by the way?” George whispered leaning against the door frame. The hall was too cold and I had to inch forward towards George to step just out of the cold winds reach.

I shrugged “Oh it was just Draco.” I said having to look up to meet George’s eyes, I wish I was a bit taller or that he didn’t hover over me as much as he did.

His face turning into disgust just for a split second at the mention of his name “Just Draco?”

Was it Slytherin or Draco that had this effect on people? Somehow I know he would be a nuisance  regardless of his house. “He’s not that bad.He could ease up on the hair dye but he’s actually pretty decent.” I said mindlessly but truthfully.  “Don’t tell him I said that.” I shook my head looking up at George already visualizing just how much bigger Draco’s head would get if he knew I thought he was anything above horrid.

“Blimey I don’t think I could hold it in, it might slip out during our daily conversation” George said laughing. I wonder if I could bottle up that laugh or if I could make him laugh again just enough to commit it to memory.

“What? Draco not conversing with people outside of Slytherin? This is so unlike him I must check to see if he is feeling well.” I said faking worry for the sometimes socially awkward Slytherin. 

 “I came by to give you back your sweater.” I said holding it out towards him. Perhaps this was the end of our short lived friendship, perhaps after this we will go back to hardly speaking and perhaps I will go back to staring at him longingly during Herbology.

“You should come celebrate with us.” George said completely ignoring his sweater, the way he danced around it made me wonder if I actually offered him his sweater or if my mind was playing tricks on me.

“A Slytherin? At a Gryffindor party? Oh but George what would the neighbors think?” I laughed clutching the front of my robes.

George laughed “I’ll take care of them, I’ve been told I’m quite scary.” he said. I wondered who told him such a lie or if he was even capable of being even remotely scary.

Shaking my head I tried my best not to sound too disappointed “Thank you but I suspect I’m going to have to help mend an entire teams egos.” I said offering him his sweater once more.

“Keep it.” He said pushing it towards me, his voice too soft and too gentle that I wondered if a stray quidditch ball didn’t knock me out mid game and I was now living out one of those muggle romance movies.

“Bu-”

“My arms hurt from all the bludger tossing, don’t think I could carry it all the way back.” He shrugged, I wonder how tired ones arms had to be not to be able to carry a sweater back.Maybe if I played Quidditch I would’ve understood. “Just give it back to me later.”

“George hurry up we need to start celebrating!” Fred shouted sticking his head out the door looking at his brother, I wonder if his arms were equally as tired. “You coming?” Fred said looking down at me, shaking my head I wished I could accept.

“ ‘fraid not gotta go and hear my entire house moan about Gryffindors all night.” Shrugging, I could already heard Pansys moans and feel Dracos side eye of disapproval. I wonder if they were moping around the Slytherin common room in Gryffindor robes or they were so extremely crossed that they figured out a way to un hexed the robes.

“Should’ve gotten sorted into Gryffindor instead.” George said earnestly, I wondered how different this day would've played out if I was sorted into Gryffindor my first year. Perhaps Ron and Harry wouldn't be that cross with me or perhaps they would’ve gotten something else to not like about me.

“I’ll make sure to send my complains to the sorting hat.” 

Fred pointed his finger at me “We got an end of year plan we’re going to need your opinion on.” he said smiling.

“See you later then?” George asked but I wish he would’ve stated, a promise sounded more hopeful than a question.

“I’ll keep an eye out.” I nodded seeing them walk away, deciding to wait a bit before I walked out. I suspect hateful tensions for Gryffindors from Slytherins are at an all time high right now and I truly don't want to get hexed in a weather like this.

“Bloody brilliant that one, wish I would've given her my sweater. Think she’ll take my jersey?” Fred said in a failed attempt at a whisper, something told me Fred Weasley was a terrible whisperer.  “Oi Y/N you still cold?” He called out towards me with his arms raised, waving them around as if I couldn't see the only other people in the hall.

“Shut up!” George said clapping his hands forcing Fred to keep walking.

“What I can’t worry about a girl’s warmth levels?” Fred said playfully shoving George.

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 8

Supposedly everything I post consecutively is one part, but I always reach the 250 block limit everytime so I am forced to cut it off! It's all good though, I just hope you don't mind that.

Anyways, enjoy reading! I'll be working on my requests after I post this and the slasher fic in my works.

Edit: Holy sh*t I thought it wouldn't fit but it did! (And I meant the word count you dirty lil thing—) This will be the longest part in the series yet (since 4.3k words fit perfectly)

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Fem!Human/Reader)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: None :)

Contains: f l u f f (and maybe too much blushing but I have no regrets)

—

You let the student call the police as you tied up four unconscious men using their clothing. You left when you heard the distant sound of sirens and trusted her to explain what had transpired in the alley. You bid her farewell, resuming your walk to your destination. You breathed out your exhaustion, the little energy you got from a short nap earlier got spent punching people again.

"So...that was..."

"Expected." The orc supplied when you trailed off.

"Mm...Yeah."

Expected, both disappointing and frustrating. You did your best not to snap at the kid for it and only hoped she understood and learned.

The sun had already sunk long ago, but there was still a myriad of warm colors. Very subtle, but there. Each passing second transitioning it into a darker shade until little specks of light became visible. The sky...black in a matter of minutes. Street lamps lit your path as shops both closed and opened for the night with people saying hello and goodbye.

"Thank you, by the way. For uh, earlier." You got careless. Too careless than you usually are.

You shivered at the thought of what might've been the outcome.

He only nodded, along with a grunt of affirmation beside you.

"Are you mad?" you whispered. Was he angry at you being a stupid idiot and rushing straight into danger?

"No, just, "—he sighed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers—"worried." His scent was clearly not just of worry. He was also scowling.

-

Tai'chi was very worried about you, he always had ever since you met, which wasn't long but he felt a strong need to protect you, even if you could handle yourself well on your own. Oh, but he was angry, enraged within at those men who harmed the poor student, especially at the one who almost stabbed you at the back. If they were in his stronghold they would've been fed to the wargs.

No, he would've torn them apart himself.

You didn't speak again until you arrived at your place, finally. You're not rich and even if you were you have no desire to live in those luxurious and super expensive condos. You preferred to have something homey, small, as long as it had what you needed for comfort and safety, you were content.

It also saves a lot of money for future expenses and emergencies.

"So, uhm, welcome." You said as you unlocked your door after several tries on putting the key in. Tai'chi ducked considerably under it, his large frame barely making it through.

You took off your shoes, placed them on the side, and kept your socks on. He followed suit, taking off his boots, coming out barefooted.

It wasn't smelly, which was pretty surprising.

You headed to your kitchen and prepare dinner for both of you, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

"I will cook." Tai'chi spoke and you immediately replied, stuttering.

"I-I should be the one cooking for you! It's not right. I'm the host and you're the guest it shouldn't be—"

"Pearl, I will cook." He asserted, his voice deep and confident, you sighed as it made you relent. You'd make a mess if you did anyway, might chop your hand off with a knife or dunk your head in the pot.

"Fine. But next time I'll do something for you instead," you groaned.

-

The orc grunted once before he stepped past you and into your kitchen while you plodded to your room.

Tai'chi paused for a moment to take in the details of your house. It was fairly small. From where he stood, his head was a foot away from touching the ceiling. To his left was an open way to what he assumed was the living room where he could make out half of a brown couch facing away from him. He also noticed a couple of framed photos hanging on a faded orange wall. Tai'chi glanced in the direction where you disappeared, he could hear the faint sound of the shower going on.

Good.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he started preparing dinner for the two of you, making use of what was present in your humble home. You had a similarly humble kitchen with a simple stovetop and double-door cupboards.

A decent-sized (a/n: everything is small to him okay) refrigerator sat in the corner where he found some meat in its freezer, quite a huge portion for such a small person like you, but then again he witnessed firsthand how much you could eat, and eat like an orc you did. Tai'chi reached inside to grab the meat but met resistance. He subconsciously yanked the frozen thing off, his eyes widened when he realized what he did, nearly topping over the whole appliance. Tai'chi sheepishly adjusted the refrigerator back in its place, before he looked for other ingredients while he carefully moved around to avoid any more mishaps.

-

You went inside your bedroom, groggy and disgusting as you pulled off your clothes and threw them in a basket just outside your bathroom. You stepped inside and took a long, hot, well-deserved shower to get that dried sweat and blood off of your body. After you rinsed down, you sunk yourself in your little tub, sighing in content as you tried your best not to fall asleep. You shuddered and trapped yourself in a daze, enjoying the hot water around your naked form, relaxing in the aromatherapy you made for yourself as you hummed a tune, letting your thoughts wander.

The precision of that throw was simply scary. But also cool...mm. Awesome.

I wonder what happened to the Silverstones...

Courting, huh...who would've thought I'd be courted by an orc. I wonder what that entails...

Wait, I'll be courting him too, right?

"..."

You got out when the wrinkling started. Your muscles were still aching but less so than before. You used a towel to dry down before wearing a black oversized shirt, you had about 6 of them in your wardrobe 'cause hey, not one to dress up fancy and flashy. Plus blood gets splattered on your clothes a lot, it would be a waste of time and money. You also slipped inside your favorite pair of dark grey joggers, the one you always wore when you were at home. They were comfy!

You let your hair fall over your shoulders and back since it was still damp. When you got out the scent of cooked food engulfed you, wafting from your right.

Oh, how mouth-watering it was.

You tiptoed to your kitchen to peek at what Tai'chi cooked up. Unfortunate when you couldn't see anything with his broad physique was blocking your line of sight on the table.

"I could smell you, you know."

You almost, almost let out a yelp. You wiped your drool with the hem of your shirt.

"I- uh-"

He chuckled, "You must be starving. I—" Words died in his throat when he turned around to look at you.

He gawked.

You surprised him for the nth time today. There you stood before him, relaxed and freshly cleaned up, a whiff of mint reached his nose, your shampoo perhaps, mixed with your scent. You didn't have your mask on, which gave him a full look at your face, your lips were a little chapped, half-lidded eyes showing your exhaustion.

"Is there something on my face?"

"N-No." He stuttered as he tried to get something out. "Ehem, no. You just look... I'm done with dinner, you— we should eat, and then we can talk." Tai'chi said as he moved to take a chair and sat across you. You let that go, in favor of sating your hunger.

His cheeks were a bit darker in shade than his skin, but that slipped away as the dinner in front of you grabbed your full attention. It looked and smelled like pork curry. Was it pork curry? It's like something straight out of a Ghibli movie.

Bite-sized chunks of meat, diced potatoes, and carrots coated with a rich syrupy brown soup together with a modest –at least to both of you– portion of rice next to it. It was simple, but the way it tempted your senses implied that there was something more than what meets the eye, and your nose.

Or it's your gluttony speaking, probably.

You picked up your spoon and wondered if it's as good as it appears to be. You gulped, audibly.

You brought a small portion into your mouth, nearly falling off of your seat as you resisted the urge to make any sound that would outright embarrass you, but lo, as you took another spoonful, you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a moan. Your eyes widened and immediately covered your face with two hands as you felt it heat up.

You chewed and swallowed before you squeaked out, "I-I-I'm so sorry! It- It's just so yummy and tasty and I— it's amazing, and uh..." You trailed off and groaned, at a loss of words in your embarrassment. You risked to part your fingers and peek at him. He met your gaze and you hid again. His cheeks were in a darker hue than before. Was he flustered like you? Oh no, you shouldn't have done that, now he will think you're being weird!

Tai'chi cleared his throat and you removed your hands but refused to make eye contact with him, your face still hot.

-

"We... We should eat." He said, stiff and trying to seem indifferent. But that sound you made would forever be engraved into his mind, it was both cute, and, well, sensual.

Okay fine, it was somehow arousing, but he has it under control, he will keep his damn urges in check, even if it means jumping out of the window just to make sure he won't scare you away. He's an orc of honor for goodness' sake, he swore an oath, he will keep it.

You ate fast but paused to savor the food, minus any embarrassing noises, thankfully. The curry was rich and a bit spicy, the pork was soft and tender as you chewed at it easily, juicy as it is, along with the potatoes and carrots, both cooked and prepared with obvious care. You almost cried from the combination of flavors you nearly forgot it was just curry you're eating.

But damn, this is the best curry you've eaten your whole life.

It was minutes later when you finished your fourth heaping plate of food. Tai'chi had five. He made a lot which was great, considering how your plates were wiped clean as if they weren't used in the first place.

Damn, you ate like you didn't eat for a week.

With some regained energy, you stood and took the dishes before Tai'chi could even stop you, putting them in the sink and washing them, quick and thorough. Once you were done with that, you went back to your seat, ducked your head, and stared at your lap.

"..."

"I... Thank you for the food. It was really delicious and great and everything! And, uhm, you made the pork curry like a pro and I never tasted anything so fulfilling, —my mother will beat me if she heard that—and it was a simple curry but I, it's just so, so—" you huffed, "mind-blowing!" You were rambling, you knew. You looked up when he didn't say anything.

H-He's grinning...

"Thank you. I pride myself in my skill in the kitchen and I'm happy what I made for you was satisfying." Tai'chi thumped his chest, showing that he was very honoured to hear your words. He's never telling you he almost broke your fridge though.

"It was great!" You exclaimed right after him, throwing your hands up. It was truly great. He grinned even wider at this, that dark shade still present in his cheeks, though you were no better as you could feel the warmth on your own.

"Then I am beyond happy and honored to hear that from you," liga lul, he stated, only saying of the last part in his head.

You smiled at each other.

-

"Is now a good time to discuss my kind's courting rituals?" Taichi asked after a minute of sitting there in silence.

"Y-Yes, please," you replied. "So, how do orcs court someone?"

He straightened up in his seat.

"We show off to the one we're interested in, basically speaking. Ranging from skills in fighting to proving that we could provide for our...mate." He paused, watching you closely.

You nodded for him to continue. Not gonna lie, that last part made your heart skip a beat. Mate, huh.

"We," he coughed, "we also chase or fight off other suitors, be it threatening them or engaging them in battle. And if they attempt to kidnap or hurt the person courted in any way, they will suffer the wrath of an orc."

"So, they'll...die?"

"Yes, or so that's what it usually was back home. Here, in this city, it's a crime to kill someone just for that reason, but it is law among us. No one would bat an eye if someone gets beheaded just because they were foolish enough to insult the person an orc is courting."

"Oh," pretty brutal but okay. "Is there an option where they don't get murdered or..." You asked, waving your hand around. Killing because of an insult is going overboard, in your opinion, but then again, anyone would be furious if their potential partner gets slandered or taken away forcefully.

"When the courted wills it. It is always up to them to decide the fate of those who tried to harm them, and the orc must take their words into action."

"Oh, good. I really don't want you getting in trouble just because someone called me a freak and all," you said. You looked at your hands, calloused and a little rough from experience. Scars were littered over your body and you hid them well from any curious eye with your long sleeves and pants. Though right now, some of the scars on your arms were visible.

You jerked when you felt his large hand grab your arm and moved along to yours, rubbing his thumb on the back of it, his brows furrowed as he looked at you.

"They are wrong to call you that."

"And everyone's a piece of shit to call you a beast, a savage, or a murderer," you followed up in an instant.

His expression softened, and you smiled, ignoring how your heart hammered in your chest as he continued to caress your hand.

Tai'chi could feel your pulse, beating so fast he was scared for your health. But he was happy to know he could make you feel this way, his own heart was thumping loudly in his chest too.

"As I said before, we would show that we could provide for our potential partners. We would bring to them our best kills from hunts, offer gifts crafted by ourselves if we have the skill, if not, we will buy them tokens and things that remind us of them or what pleases them."

"Wait," you interrupted, "when you insisted on cooking dinner, was that a part of courting?"

He gave you a small smile as he scratched his sideburns, sheepish like a little child caught stealing candy.

"Yes." He answered, rather quiet than his usual booming voice.

"Uhm, I must say, it was really amazing. Your cooking, I mean. And thank you, again."

"The pleasure's all mine," he replied. "Building houses or fixing the courted's current one is also a part of it."

"You're not gonna build me house right away, are you?" You joked, but then he didn't reply. "Wait, you're serious? But we're still studying and—"

"I am serious about building a house for, uh, the two of us," he interrupted, "but yes, I understand our current situation won't allow that to happen...yet."

"H-How long does the courting last?" You couldn't help but ask. He's talking about building you a house someday and you don't even know how old he is! No connection to what you're fumbling about but yeah, your mind is messed up. You are curious though...his age.

"It usually lasts for six months, to give time to get to know each other but also not prolong the courting stage so they could proceed to the next, but there are times when it lasts longer than that. You will have absolute control over how fast or slow we proceed in the courtship. That means it's up to you on when to end it and decide whether you'll...take me as your mate, or turn me down."

"Sounds pressuring but okay." You want to, like, combust right now.

He chuckled.

"Pressuring? No, no, please do not be pressured. Your word is law and I will face death by my family's ax if I disobey your final decision."

"Again with the death thingy!" You were appalled at how extreme orcs were.

"Us orcs are very strict and firmly tied to our traditions, but I can say we are changing. It is slow, but change nonetheless."

"I have a question," you raised your free hand out of habit.

Tai'chi nodded.

"I hope this is won't offend but how old are you?"

There, you said it. Oh fuck, you hoped it wasn't offending. Shit it was— asking his age, seriously?

"How old do you think I am?" He questioned, teasing you, a smirk on his lips catching you off guard.

"What? Noooo that's not an answer! I can't guess, you might get angry."

"I won't," he supplied right after. Why would he be? In fact, he is pretty much enjoying himself just watching you fidget with your ears slightly tinted pinkish. By the gods, he wants to touch them.

You sighed.

You stared at him, avoiding eye-contact as you tilted your head to get a good look at his features. He had a long and narrow scar you didn't spot before, in a lighter green color on the left side of his face. It wasn't noticeable if you stare at him up-front. It went down his neck and ended just above his collar bone. You wondered what caused it.

The orc was rough, his double tusks sharp and intimidating, even horrifying to another set of eyes but to you, he was attractive and rugged, his scent alluring and you only found him more fascinating each passing second. The scars he had enticed your curiosity but you weren't gonna ask about it, yet.

You always thought the standards set by society are rather absurd. You looked back at the time when someone asked you what your type was, along with showing you different pictures of men, human men, which were deemed "hot" (with quotation marks, yes) by most people. You didn't answer because; one, you don't know them; two, you couldn't tell what their personality was because you can't scent them; and three, it only annoyed you. People found you even weirder after that. Ironically deeming you senseless for not having an eye for beauty. No taste or missing out, they said.

But one's beauty wasn't found in sight alone.

You hummed to yourself. His hair was rich black, no trace of graying, so maybe he's not so old? 30s? How fast do orcs grow up? Do they even age? What do they look like when they were children?

You were brought back to the present when he gently squeezed your hand.

"Oh— uh, 35?" You blurted out, a bit panicked. As far as you know no one is as....buff as him in your age— but wait he's an orc!

"Oh no wait that's—"

You were cut off by a loud snort followed by a boisterous laugh coming out of Tai'chi, making you more embarrassed than you already are. His guffaw shook your apartment you swear your neighbors are filing a noise complaint tomorrow with how much he was laughing and you raising your voice.

"No," he said, "no actually, I'm still in my 23rd year. Do I really look that old?" He questioned as he chortled.

"23rd?! But you're— you're," you gestured at him. He's just five years older than you (which isn't long period of time you think) but he's— he's fucking huge! What the hell did they eat up North?

"Yes," he laughed again, amused by your reaction. "Believe it or not I am. Orcs begin training at age 6" he shifted the topic, "The adults would let them choose their desired weapon and craft to pursue, but also allowed them to experience all selections, from swords, battle axes, hammers, and many more, along with skills and crafts like hunting, blacksmithing, combat, construction, even basket weaving.

"I went on my first hunt when I was 12 and brought a stag back home. I tamed my first warg at 15, named him Nadul, Orcish for 'night'."

"6 year old me snuck out of the house during nap time to collect twigs in the woods while you were wielding weapons and—"

"That is correct,"

"And you had a pet warg?" You knew what wargs are, you read about them when you were in high school, along with other animals that fascinated you. They looked like large wolves with the stature of an adult grizzly bear and can carry a full-grown orc into battle.

"Have," he corrected, his fluffy buddy was still very much alive and well the last time he went back to visit his home, which was three months ago. He doubted anything could take down Nadul, not even a Frostbear, he was the one who trained him after all.

"I still can't believe you're 23. You look so..."— you were not gonna say old, no— "mature."

"At a different rate from humans, yes."

Of course they do. You got so much to learn about orcs, and him.

"And you? How old are you?"

"19."

"Oh? You look 13 with how little you are,"

You didn't expect him to be playful like this, but you went along.

"Hey! I'm only small compared to you, you giant!" True, you were a tad shorter than most girls your age but it has its perks! You'd save a lot of money from buying clothes just because you grew rather slowly. "And in fact, I'm still growing!"

"So am I." He grinned, smugness painted all over his face.

"Noooo, if you keep growing you won't fit through the doorway!" You whined, pouting at how much of a tease he was being.

He found it adorable, the way your lower lip was upturned as you looked at him. The sudden urge to pat you rose but he didn't act on it.

"Do not worry, us orcs stop growing in our 25th year," or not. "And I will make sure to feed and treat you good so you'll become taller!" he stated confidently. Tai'chi was about to laugh again, but he froze with his jaw open when you turned real red, your ears tinted and your lips quivered, unable to speak out anything.

That last part, made your face feel like fire just kissed it, twice. Panicked and having no idea what to retort, you let your head fall on the table with a thud. You gripped his hand tight and took silent breaths to calm your thumping heart down.

"Y-Yeah... I..I l-look forward to that, Tai'chi." You were able to say that at least.

He gave a soft grunt as he looked at you on the table.

You were very flustered, he scented. His comment-sort-of-declaration was clearly the reason. But oh, he had no regrets. He will make sure you're healthy and well-fed, and it's just one way of showing off with his skills.

That's only the beginning.

You were in for some Orcish surprises.

You sat in comfortable silence again for a while, just taking in each other's scents, soothing and calming your hammering heart. Tai'chi continued to caress your hand, gentle for such a big orc like him. He could snap your neck with two fingers alone, but he remained careful like he was holding a thing so delicate.

Tai'chi could feel your pulse slow down to a normal rate, your scent shifted to that of a relaxed state and something fuzzy. He can't call you his yet, you just met today but you already got him wrapped around your tiny fingers. First, he will court you and show his admiration, prove his worth. And you, yourself, turning it into love the more you spend time together, he knows it will.

And he'll surely be damned to let this chance slip. Not once did he took interest in getting a mate before, his mind too busy and filled with his responsibilities along with studies in other kind's culture, and taking care of his siblings.

But back then and there, something pulled on his heart, the way your eyes stared into his for seconds that felt longer than eternity itself. An exaggeration, but that's what he felt.

He found you.

-

You were about to doze off so you removed your head from the table and tried to blink away your sleepiness, the light hurting you a little. You should get to bed soon, your first class starts at 8 in the morning. You stared at Tai'chi, admiring that blue eyes of his, its hue similar to that of lapis lazuli, you thought.

"I should take my leave now. We need to rest, especially you." Tai'chi said when he saw how tired you appeared, you were barely keeping your eyes open. He stood up from his seat, lightly pulling you up with him. You shook your head, rubbing your eyes as you led him to your door.

"Keep safe," you bid once he was ready to go.

"You as well... I will see you tomorrow."

"Mm, g'night."

Tai'chi breathed through his nose before he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was brief, but it sent a pleasant warmth all over your body. You were too sleepy to even bother being shy now, so you only smiled at him.

"Goodnight, lak'mar lul." He gazed at you, sighing before he stepped out of your apartment.

You stood there for a moment before you checked your door and made sure it was deadlocked. You killed the lights off as you sluggishly trudged to your bed. Darkness enveloped your home, a welcome one. You crawled to the middle and tucked yourself under the dark blue cotton sheets.

You were out like a light once you settled down. Much too many things happened right after another, draining you to an exhaustingly low point. You only prayed you'd feel better in the morning.

Your last thought was about how warm the orc was, and how, for some reason, his scent, his presence, felt like a home you never had, which was saying something since you had encountered a lot of scents in your life, both good and bad. You hugged your pillow tight as you succumbed to a dreamless slumber.

—

I'm putting this off for a bit to give time for requests and other WIPs. But if a random continuation pops out I'll have to write it down and set it aside for editing later.

Thank you for reading!

[babbushka]

Ain’t Too Bad

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

3k ; N S F W (warnings for birthday sex, masturbation, orgasm delay/denial,  d/s undertones, spit as lube, come as lube, crying during sex, dirty talk, begging, name-calling, slight voyeurism) 

Also available on AO3! 

[part of the Flip Zimmerman NSFW Alphabet Prompt series, letters E&F]

He comes through the door, same as he always does after work. Puts his key in the dish by the door, steps out of his cowboy boots, coat up on the hook. He closes the door gently, because it’s late, only one light left on in the foyer so he can see. He’s in a bit of a bad mood, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. He comes home with a scowl nine times out of ten. He pours himself something from the kitchen, downs it in three big gulps. He’s thirsty still, but that’s alright. He’s got a tall drink of water waiting for him upstairs.

You stayed up to wait for him, same as you always do on late nights like this. Change into something a little more comfortable, a little more racy; nothing but a pair of lacy underwear and stockings clipped to garters. Candles lit in the bedroom, record playing softly to keep you company, hands between your legs to keep you even better company.

Flip makes his way up the staircase, familiar tread of his socked feet on the squeaky floor-board as he moves towards the bedroom. You gasp a little louder, rub your calves together a little faster, get yourself ready for him as he’s coming up to meet you.

Normally you meet him, you’re by the door, ready to pounce with a hug and a kiss.

But this, this isn’t a normal night, this is his birthday.

And you think that he deserves a little extra sugar for it.  

Flip leans against the doorframe of the bedroom, one ankle crossed over the other as he watches you get yourself off, as he smokes his cigarette. He was always so sexy with that damn cigarette, you couldn’t get enough of it. You never wanted to get enough, always wanted more.

“Heellloo,” Flip’s eyebrow twitches as his big muscular arms cross over his chest. “Well aren’t you pretty.”

He looks you over, appraises you. He knows he’s in for a treat tonight, not that he isn’t every night. Every night is something special with you, every night has him hot and fucking bothered in his jeans. But this, this is something extra for him, this is for him.

“You think so?” You breathe out, knowing you must be quite the sight, all spread out, draped across the bed on top of the covers.

You’re laying sideways, so he can’t even really see your pussy or anything, not yet. But that was part of the fun, the not seeing. With your hand in your panties he couldn’t see your pussy even if you were spread eagle for him, even if his face was shoved right up against the lace. Fuck, he’s hard just thinking about that, wanting to bet between your legs. He watches your fingers move into obscurity, and he gulps.

It always got him riled up, that mystery. He’s riled up now.

“Yeah,” He licks his lips, “I do.”

“Why don’t you come in and have a taste?” You moan, the slide of your fingers under your panties spurring him on, making him shift in his jeans, making him hard. You can see it, how hard he is. Fuck he’s big, big all over, but big especially there. You gasp out, “If you’re good, I’ll let you have a little bit more.”

“Get on your back, properly.” He says, stalking forward then.

He blows smoke around, and you revel in it as you roll yourself off your side, let your legs fall apart. The garters and stockings shimmy a little from the movement, rustle. He wants the stockings off, the panties off. But not the garters. Those can stay.

Flip stands at the foot of the bed, rock hard in his jeans as he’s already working on pulling his clothes off. He’s slow about it, each button taking its time, the zipper loud in the quiet of the room.

“You’re sexy when you’re bossy.” Your ribcage expands when you take a deep deep deep breath, bare tits pushing out.

“Don’t be a brat,” He reaches out with one hand to pinch your nipple, to stiffen it and make you moan as you finger yourself slowly, the pads of your fingers circling your clit, getting yourself so wet for him. Flip’s eyes are dark when he says, “Or else I’ll have to punish you, and that’d be a real shame.”

“Would it?” You challenge, before yelping out with pleasure as he shucks his jeans off and climbs onto the bed dipping the mattress, pushing his knee right up against your pussy, rubbing the soaked lace of your panties.

“Watch it ketsl.” He replies, and you grin.

“Kiss me, my lips are lonely.” You pull your hands away from your body and reach out to him with them, fingers slick and sticky, burning hot from being buried in your cunt.

“Spoiled.” Flip grins right back, a smile that he smears against your mouth, taking a gulp of you, taking you apart with his tongue.

You make out like that for a little while, and he climbs on top of you fully. Unclipping the garters he tears away the panties, lets the scrap of fabric roll off the side of the bed. He leans back enough to grab a fistful of the sheer stocking and tug them off your legs one at a time, until you’re almost as naked as him.

He’s in his birthday suit right and proper, his proud cock jutting against the crease where your thigh meets your pussy, and it’s delicious, that friction. He moans into your mouth as he grinds his hips there, knowing he’s so close to your cunt but still so far. Hot pre-come drools from the head of his cock and he only uses it to slick himself up, groans some more.

“Ketsl, princess, I gotta have you.” He says after a minute, after you’re both so kiss-drunk that you can barely open your eyes, all your nerves on fire.

“Which way do you want me?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper, throat already thick.

“However you’d like.” He kisses your cheek, your nose, your neck, but you laugh and shake your head. He was so sweet, so caring, always wanting to do what you wanted, but that wasn’t the point of tonight.

“No no, you pick.” You insist. It’s his birthday, his special day, or evening rather. “I don’t care what you do as long as it’s me -- god knows I’m gonna love it no matter what.”

“Don’t bring him into this.” Flip teases in that deadpan way of his, and you want to tease him back but suddenly he’s got his hands all over you, he’s got you pulled across the mattress, he’s got you positioned the way he wants.

You don’t know what it’s called for real, but it always reminds you of a pretzel, the way you and Flip twine yourselves together. Pretzel dip maybe you could call it, if you’re being crude. He’s got you up on your back, but not really. You’re propped up onto one side, leaning on your elbow.

Flip lifts the leg opposite your elbow and tucks it around his hip, fits himself in the space between your legs and slides home in one hard thrust.

“Flip!” You gasp out, head already falling backwards, your hair tickling the back of your neck.

It’s his favorite position, the pretzel. You don’t know how it all works out, but there’s something about it that lets him get deep, that lets him shove himself so far into you that you’re sure you can feel it bumping against your ribs, your throat.

It’s almost like when he fucks you from behind, but this way he can keep eye contact. He loves looking at you, gets antsy when he can’t. It’s sweet, but more than that it’s so fucking sexy, and you’re already moaning as his cock spears into you, hips already smacking into yours.

“Fuck, wait, I need a pillow or something – oh!” You gasp around a moan as he rolls his hips hard, as he grinds himself into you, filling your cunt up right to the very brim.

Above you, he’s already lost in his own pleasure, teeth digging into his lower lip as he fucks you. His muscles flex and ripple, and it’s such a handsome sight that you hiccup out a moan as he grips your thigh, keeps your leg up, keeps that angle going as he drives into you deep.

“Shit ketsl, oh shit,” He’s already unraveling in between your moans, loud and hot and heavy, “Baby this pussy’s so tight.”

It’s blazing hot, the way his cock pushes into you, how it stuffs you full, how your walls clench around him, wanting him to stay in there and never leave. He looks angry almost, with the way his brows are pinched in and his chest is all splotchy. You can see the veins in his hands, in his neck, in his forearm bulging, and it makes your pussy drip, because you know they’re bulging for you.

“Just for you – all yours, I’m yours, oh fuck right there right there right there -- !” You encourage him as he bounces you on the mattress, as the sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room. You’re dizzy in the best way, body warm and tingling from the inside out.

“Are you my present? You my good whore? Baby, oh ketsl,” Flip grunts, slaps the flesh of the thigh he’s got a death grip on, that thigh that’s his only anchor to the world, only anchor to reality as he doubles over and fucks you fucks you fucks you into the mattress.

“Yesyesyes I’m – ah – Flip oh,” Your eyes fly open and your toes curl and your back arches up up up for him when he presses his thumb hard to your clit, searches for your gspot like this. It’s a little harder to find with this angle, but he looks, and while he does you blink away hot tears from how good you feel, nowhere for the pleasure to go aside from ripping out of your throat and spilling onto your cheeks. “Your cock’s so fucking big!”

“Say it again.” Flip orders, and you moan from the authoritative tone in his voice as he makes you writhe underneath him.

“Your cock’s so big!” You repeat, louder this time, so loud that the sound of it is fuzzy in your ears as your brain rattles around in your skull. “Fuck me with it, make me come on your cock – ”

“No, you have to ask me to come, okay?” He interrupts, making your cunt gush anyway, making your legs tremble, your tits heave. You cry cry cry out an orgasm, but Flip pretends it doesn’t happen, he keeps fucking you hard through it. “You have to ask. Don’t come until I tell you.”

“Okay – oh fuck, okay!” You babble, not really able to string together a sentence as the brutal pace of his hips kept ramming into you. You try to get a grip but your whole body sings, you’re melting under him, going pliant and loose, limp. You shudder through an illegal orgasm, but he’s not done, not at all, so you ask him to fuck you, “Harder?”

Flip clenches his jaw and slows himself down, savoring the feeling of your pussy pulsing around him. He takes his time railing you hard and deep. He’s covered in a beautiful red flush that you can’t even see because your eyelids are so heavy, and all you can do is hiccup out sobs of pleasure.

This position was so good, too good almost, but your arm was starting to hurt from being the only support of your body, and after your first orgasm you’re made of jelly. He doesn’t stop when you lay yourself flat on the mattress, he only grabs a tighter hold of your thighs, keeps you pulled thrust against his hips.

Your toes flex and curl on their own as you twist and shudder on the mattress, and he’s no better. He’s got spit clinging to his chin from the way it flies out of his mouth as he fucks you, the ends of his hair are sweaty and droplets fly onto your bodies. His stomach tenses and flutters, and his hips begin to snap erratically into you.

He adjusts you a little so that he can bend you almost in half, and you go willingly, happily, tears staining the pillow that you kiss, make out with since his lips are so far away. You bite and suck on the cotton pillowcase and it muffles your moans a little, drives him crazy.

“Flip, honey I’m, oh! Flip please, I’m so close.” You cry cry cry on his cock, cry as you want to come again, again already. You’re greedy, you’re spoiled, you want it, you want him to give it to you.

“No, no not yet, hold on for me ketsl, hold on a little longer.” He shakes his head, bends you around his body, moves with you when you move.

The drag of his cock in your cunt is so slippery, all your come and slick mixing with his sweat and spit where he drools onto your pussy. He can’t stop looking at it, watching his cock disappear into you, watching your pussy swallow him whole. He wishes he had more hands, wishes he could touch you and hold you all over all at the same time, but he can’t, he just can’t, so he fucks you hard, makes his cock touch you inside and out.

“Phil please, please honey, let me come, I’ll do anything, I’ll – I’ll – ” You beg, and that’s a dirty move because you know he loves the sound of you begging, he comes from it, and you know that if he comes you can come too, and fuck you want to come again.

“Holy shit,” He moans loud, rolls his hips against yours, grinds his pelvis down onto your pussy, bending himself over you so he can kiss and suck at your nipples, so he can bite you, mark you up, bruise you with his teeth tongue lips, “No dice, not yet, not until I say.”

“I can’t – I can’t,” You hiccup, but he shakes his head.

“Yeah you can, oh fuck,” You know he’s close, you can tell. You can tell with the way he’s starting to breathe too hard, his own nipples stiff little peaks that you’d love to tweak real hard. You can tell with the way his hips are losing their rhythm, how he’s reduced down to desperate pleas of his own, “Just a little longer ketsl.”

“Phil please!” You shout, and then he’s growling dark in your ear, and your bodies are in perfect harmony when they rise up up up in pleasure, blood pounding in your ears, bodies on fire and singing songs of lust and love.

“Okayokayokay now, fuck!” He shouts as his hips come to a halting stop.

You give yourselves over to the blissful release of orgasm, jolting against one another, trembling and shivering and gasping for breaths that you steal from each other’s mouths. He comes in you so much that you swear you can taste the salty tang of it on your tongue, you can feel it spreading through you, filling all the empty spaces in your bones, filling you with his love.

It takes a long time to come back down to earth, but when you do, you sigh and laugh and moan out just from the sheer feeling of him still being inside you. He’ll pull out in a minute, you know, but the two of you go crashing down onto your sides, too tired to support your bodies anymore.

In the quiet of the aftermath, as pleasure skims over your skin and makes the hair on your arms stand up, he smooths his hand over your calves, lightly plucks at the straps of your garter. You smile lazily dreamily blissfully at him, both your heads on one pillow, noses so close together that they’re rubbing.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Detective.” You whisper, voice wrecked from all the moaning.

“Oy, do you have to remind me?” He grumbles softly, before licking his lips and claiming a chaste kiss, another, another, another.

“Yup. You know why?” You mumble against his lips as your arms weakly find their way around his shoulders. His cock throbs inside you still, and you know that you’ll probably be in for another round in twenty minutes or so, but the thought is thrilling. Everything about being with Flip is thrilling, has you over the moon.

“Tell me baby.” He kisses you, only ever wanting to spend his time kissing you.

“Another year of loving and fucking you is alright in my book.” You say sincerely, softly, looking at him with nothing but adoration and finding it reflected in his handsome gaze, “More than alright, in fact.”

He blushes at that, because he always gets real sentimental when he thinks about how lucky he is to have you, how wholly and completely he loves you. He blushes but it’s too dark in the bedroom, only the slowly dripping wax candles setting a soft glow. The record has completely faded out into nothingness, the only noise out in the Colorado mountains is of the crickets and steady inhale exhale of your breathing,

“Well when you put it that way.” He says, making you chuckle, making you just tuck yourself as close as possible to him, kissing him until your lips swell up from being so bitten, until your bodies start to respond to the closeness of one another.

Because even though he has a lot of hangups about his birthday, even though he turns into a major grouch, even though he wishes he wouldn’t get so old, even though even though even though, he thinks that if he gets another year with you, well.

That ain’t too bad.

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

Tagging some pals :)  @kyloxfem @heldcaptivebychaos  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler  @whiskey-bumblebee @magikevalynn @tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov @romancedeldiablo @helloimindelaware @elfieboxcat @laurenshit @autumnlovesadam @peterisparker  @goodboybensolo  @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy​ @disaster-rose​ @hazydespair​ @yosoymuyloca​ @1-800-choke-that-snoke​ @ktellmeastory​ @anongirl007​ @zimmerxman​ @okk--maaan​ @flapjacques​ @aweirdlookingtree​ @callmemania-pls​ @theold-ultraviolence​ @og-selene​ @pinkmoontribe-blog​

[izzyfandoms]

Miraculous: Tales of Tarantula and Prince Dragon

Origins - Part One

This is a Sanders Sides Miraculous Ladybug AU, where the Sanders Sides/Sanders Shorts/Cartoon Therapy characters take the place of the Miraculous Ladybug characters, becoming Miraculous heroes with original Miraculouses and fighting akumas similar to the ones in the show. The main cast and other important teenagers are all TS characters, while all the background characters (adults) and villains are the same ML ones. I imagine the characters are slightly older than they are in ML though (closer to 16). There will definitely be a part two to this, and hopefully more oneshot episodes too in the future. Hope you enjoy!

SHIPS: Future Prinxiety, implied Remile, one-sided Rosleep crush, implied Thomas x Andy

WARNINGS: Bullying, fighting, anxiety

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @ajdraws0430 @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez

Miraculous: Tales of Tarantula and Prince Dragon Masterpost

Masterpost

Many centuries ago, magic jewels bestowing extraordinary powers were created. These were... the Miraculouses.

Throughout history, humans have used these jewels for the good of the human race. Two of these Miraculouses were more powerful than the others: the earrings of the Ladybug, which provided the power of creation; and the ring of the Black Cat, which granted the power of destruction.

According to legend, whoever controlled both those jewels at the same time, would achieve absolute power.

And so, in the face of a dangerous, rising super-villain – one wielding the Moth brooch Miraculous, who likely sought the combined power of creation and destruction for themself – the guardian was conflicted. His kwami could feel that the Butterfly Miraculous had fallen into the hands of evil, so it was only a matter of time before that evil surfaced and attacked.

Did he risk using the two most powerful Miraculouses? Granting their powers to two new heroes, in the hopes that they won against the Moth, and that the jewellery wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands? Or did he give out other, weaker Miraculouses, ones that wouldn’t be too dangerous to lose, keeping the Ladybug and the Black Cat safe, but risking it not being enough?

His hands hovered over the small Octagonal boxes laid out in front of him.

They were mismatched, not all from the same Miraculous box. A mistake in his youth had led to that, and it remained his biggest regret.

The Ladybug and the Black Cat came as a pair, from the same box as the Butterfly and the missing Peacock, as well as the Turtle bracelet that sat on the Guardian’s wrist. The rest, though, were all different. A mismatched collection, grabbed in a panic.

The Owl.

The Yellow Snake.

The Spider.

The Red Dragon.

The Bird.

The White Cat.

The Lion.

The Octopus.

The empty box of the Turtle.

And the Ladybug and the Black Cat, a pair, sat in the centre.

The Guardian glanced up at his kwami – a small, floating, green turtle by the name of Wayzz. They held a silent conversation, and came to a silent agreement.

(Their many years together had given them a deep understanding of each other and their thoughts.)

Then, he turned back to the boxes, carefully picking out the necklace of the Spider, and the bracelet of the Red Dragon.

The Ladybug and the Black Cat would stay tucked away, for now.

***

“Virgil. Virgil!”

Virgil yawned, sitting up slowly and blinking the sleep from his eyes. He stretched noisily, making a face when he realised that the alarm on his phone was going off, and likely had been for a while.

How did he sleep through it again?

“I’m up, Mama!” He shouted back when he heard his mother call his name again. “Coming!”

Maybe she needed help in the bakery. He had been assisting his parents more over the Summer.

“You’re gonna be late for school!”

Virgil froze mid-stretch. He stayed like that for a moment – blinking in shock – before he unfroze and hurriedly grabbed his phone, switching off the ringing alarm and checking the date.

It was Monday.

The first day back at school.

He groaned.  

“Ah, shit,” Virgil mumbled under his breath, rubbing at his eyes with over-sized sleeves.  

He had borrowed one of his dad’s old shirts to sleep in again. It was comfy – very comfy – but worn-out and definitely too big on him, and he thought he probably looked ridiculous.

He somewhat reluctantly climbed out of bed, scowling at himself as he left the warm comfort of his duvet and pillows. He knew he would miss them. It would be far, far too many hours before he’d be able to sleep again. He already deeply missed the Summer, even though he definitely wasn’t a fan of the heat.

He left his room and made his way down the stairs, entering the kitchen and immediately heading over to his mother to kiss her on the cheek.

“Ugh, I think Remy’s in my class again this year,” he said as he sat down at the table.

His mother, Sabine, pulled a face. “Really, again? Four years in a row. That can’t be possible.”

“Oh, it’s definitely possible – with my luck at least.”

“Hmm... well, maybe he won’t be so bad this year?”

Virgil scoffed. “Nah, Remy’s never gonna change. He’s always been like this. Once an asshole, always an asshole.”

“Language.”

“Sorry.”

His mother shot him a chastising look that was tinged with a fondness that made the corners of Virgil’s lips twitch upwards. He knew he’d inherited his mischievous streak from somebody, though his father was also a potential candidate. He also knew that he’d overheard her talking to his father about Remy in a similar way, in the past when his classmate had been particularly nasty to him.

“Well, let’s look on the bright side, honey,” Sabine continued, turning away to continuing preparing her own breakfast, as Virgil poured himself a bowl of cereal. “It’s the start of a new year! I’m sure everything will turn out just fine.”

Virgil huffed. “I hope so.”

He lifted the first spoonful of cereal to his lips, but before he could get even a single taste of that sugary goodness, it slipped from his fingertips, landing in his bowl and splashing his shirt with milk and cereal.  

Virgil sighed; this was going to be a long day.

Sabine passed her son a cloth to wipe his shirt with.

The rest of his breakfast passed quickly – and, thankfully, uneventfully, with minimal mess. He got dressed quickly, too: he was running late, after all. Black socks. Black boots. Black jeans. Purple shirt. Black and purple hand-made jacket. Make-up. Purple backpack. He double checked and triple checked and quadruple checked that he had everything he needed – anxiety may have been a bitch, but it at least made him thorough – before he headed back downstairs again.

As he entered the bakery below his house, he was immediately greeted by the usual sounds of his father, Tom, singing out of tune to himself as he moved around the room. The bakery wasn’t open yet, so there were no customers, only them.

Virgil then smiled slightly as Tom turned around, revealing the box of freshly-baked cupcakes he held in his hands, quickly (and carefully) handing them to his son.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“No problem! Glad you like them. Make sure to show off your new logo design to your classmates, I’m sure they’ll bring in a ton of new customers this year!”

Virgil huffed a laugh. “Pretty sure it’s your baking that brings in the customers, Dad.”

“We all bring in the customers. We’re great, and we’ll be even greater this year! We’re the Dupain-Chengs, and there is nothing we can’t do!”

Tom moved into a super-hero pose, flexing his arms and grinning. Virgil snorted.

“Yeah, well, I’ve gotta go, Dad. I’m kinda late.”

“See you tonight, then!”

Virgil pushed past his parents and exited the bakery, moving as quickly as he could whilst balancing the box of cupcakes in his arms. With his luck, he was surprised he didn’t trip the moments his boots hit the pavement, but, somehow, he managed to stay upright and begin to make his way down the street.

He stopped at a crossing, almost tripping into the road but managing to lean back and catch himself at just the right moment. He let out a sigh of relief, and then tensed up again, gawking, wide-eyed when he noticed the small, old man slowly trying to cross the street – travelling slowly and with a cane – right in the way of an oncoming car. He wasn’t looking where he was going, and the rest of the surrounding people were far too focused on their phones to notice.

Virgil leapt forward, grabbing the man by the wrist that held his cane and tugging him towards him and out of the way of the car.

The old man stumbled, though made it safely to the other side, but Virgil’s box of cupcakes flew from his hand and landed on the pavement, spilling cake and multi-coloured icing all over the grey concrete.

“Thank you, young man,” the short old man in the Hawaiian shirt said, smiling gratefully, before noticing the spilt cupcakes all over the pavement. “Oh, what a shame!”

“It’s- it’s fine,” Virgil sighed, picking himself up and dusting himself off. A few cupcakes were still mostly intact and still the box – unaffected by the pavement – though most were unsalvageable. He offered one of the remaining ones to the old man, who took it.

“Mmm... delicious!”

“Yeah, my da- oh, shit!”  

Ah, shit, Virgil just swore in front of an old man.  

“I’m late for school!” He continued. “Uh- bye!”

He waved a quick goodbye to the old man, and then proceeded to sprint across the street and over to his school. Luckily, he lived right by it, but, unfortunately, that didn’t often save him from his usual lateness.

Unbeknownst to Virgil, the old man watched him intently as he went, his gaze following Virgil’s running form until he was out of sight. Then, he retrieved a small octagonal box from his pocket, looking it over.

“Thank you very much, young man.” He smiled to himself, before walking off in the direction of the bakery at an easy pace, holding his cane off the ground, behind his back, not needing to use it.

***

“Logan, why don’t you sit in the front row, this year?” Caline Bustier said as Virgil burst through the door of the classroom.

Logan sighed, pulling out his earphones and lifting his bag as he made his way to one of the front desks – the outer right seat – sitting down reluctantly. Virgil took one of the seats behind him, the middle right seat. He and Logan had had classes together for years, though they didn’t know each other nearly as well as they could have.

Logan Lahiffe was into music – the violin, in particular, and composing his own tunes – whilst Virgil was into fashion design. They both mostly kept to themselves, though they got along well enough when put together.

A hand suddenly slammed into Virgil’s desk and he jumped, looking up. His eyes immediately landed on a familiar, sunglasses-wearing face and his stomach dropped.

“Ugh,” Virgil grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “What is it now, Remy?”

“You’re in my seat. Move.”

“Wha- but this has always been my seat? Get your own.”

“Not this year, dumbass. New year. New seats. You can go sit with that new guy over there.” He gestured vaguely at the other front desk across the room, where a teenager in a green and black t-shirt and ripped jeans was sat. He was barely paying attention to them. “He’s a weirdo, too. You guys could totally be, like, best friends or something.”

There was a second new guy sat beside Andy, just behind the desk Virgil was sat at, too. Two new students were joining their class this year? Virgil almost pitied them, they wouldn’t know what to expect with Remy – the serial bully and life-ruiner.  

The mayor’s son. A spoilt brat.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Why do you even care so much, Remy? It’s just a seat.”

“Roman’s coming today!” Remy’s lackey, Emile Picani-Raincomprix piped up from behind him. He was far too nice to be friends with Remy, but had been for as long as Virgil could remember. “Remy’s his best friend, so we’re gonna sit behind him.”

Three new guys?

“Who’s Roman?”

Remy laughed, loud, mocking and only slightly over-exaggerated. He mimed wiping a tear from his eye, shooting Virgil a short look of fake pity.

“What rock have you been living under, babe?” He glanced back at Emile. “Can you believe he doesn’t know who Roman Agreste is? Totes adorbs, don’t you think?”

“He’s a famous model,” Emile supplied helpfully, giving Remy an apologetic look when Remy scowled at his friend for being nice to his enemy.

(Virgil hoped that one day Emile would move on from Remy. He seemed nice, and deserved better than a friend who walked all over him.)

Something suddenly clicked in Virgil’s head.

Roman Agreste. Like Gabriel Agreste. He certainly wasn’t one of Virgil’s favourite fashion designers, as they had very different styles, but he was famous, and Virgil could certainly appreciate his work.

“Roman adores me,” Remy said. “We’re, like, meant to be. So, go on, move!”

The new guy across the room burst into laughter at that, making everyone’s eyes fall on him. His whole body shook under the force of his loud cackles, and Remy immediately turned to glare daggers at him.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You, duh.”

Remy let out an offended noise, hand over heart. “Excuse me? Do you even know who I am?”

“Course I do. You’re the mayor’s bitch son.”

Virgil heard Kai Kubdul snort in the background, and he didn’t even try to hide it. He did hold his hands up in mock surrender when Remy turned his glare on him, though. And when Remy turned back to the new kid, Kai rolled his eyes and scowled.

Remy opened his mouth to snap back, but the new kid continued before he could.

“And what makes you think Roman adores you? He thinks you’re annoying as hell.”

“Excuse you? How the hell would you even know that?”

The new kid looked at Remy like he was stupid. “Oh, come on, Rem. I know it’s been ages since Dad made us hang out, but you’re really saying you don’t recognise me?” He paused, watching Remy cross his arms, before glancing around the room at the rest of the staring class. “Roman... is my brother. We’re twins, dumbass. We look basically the same, except he’s boring and stupid. And I know he doesn’t like you.”

“You know nothing,” Remy said coldly. “You’re just the loser your father gave up on. He’s the cute model. You’re nothing.”

Emile made a quiet noise, grabbing at the sleeve of Remy’s leather jacket and tugging gently.

“That’s mean, Rem.”

“Uh, duh, that’s the point.” Remy huffed. “Where is Roman, anyway? How come you’re here and he isn’t?”

The new kid grinned, showing off his teeth. “I snuck out. He tried, but he got caught. Loser.” Then, he turned to Virgil. “Come on, come sit with me. Let the bitch sit near my dumb brother. Who even cares about them?”

“First smart thing you’ve ever said,” Remy mumbled, turning back to Virgil with an expectant look.

Virgil shifted uncomfortably as all the attention returned to him. Then, he sighed, reluctantly scooping his backpack off the floor and the box of cupcakes off the desk and standing up. He ignored the apologetic look that Emile shot him as he and Remy took their seats – Emile behind Logan, and Remy where Virgil had just sat – and went across the room to sit beside the new kid, who immediately bumped shoulders with him.

“God, he’s such an asshole, isn’t he?”

Virgil snorted. “He’s the worst.”

“Yeah...” The new kid trailed off in thought. “I’m Remus, by the way. Remus Agreste.”

“Virgil Dupain-Cheng. It’s nice to see someone stand up to Remy, for once.”

Remus scoffed. “The bitch deserves it.” Then, he grinned. “Now that I’m here, he’s gonna be getting some payback for walking over everyone his whole life. You with me?”

He spoke quietly enough that Remy couldn’t hear, which seemed like a miracle given Remus’s brash personality, though the two students who sat behind them – Kai Kubdel and Thomas Haprèle-Sanders – probably could. They’d both dealt with Remy long enough not to speak up in his favour, though.

Virgil glanced back at Remy. He was staring at the door, a bored expression on his face as he drummed his fingers on the desk. Emile was staring at him with a lovestruck expression, and Virgil was suddenly stuck by the memory of that disaster of a crush, that apparently hadn’t faded over the Summer. Everyone in the class but Remy, himself, seemed to know about it. That was likely a good thing, as, knowing Remy, he probably would’ve taken advantage of it if he’d known.

Virgil turned back to Remus, pulling a face.

“I don’t know...” he said. “He’s been making school hell for me for years, I don’t wanna make it worse...”

Remus scoffed. “Nah, you’ve got me now. No need to be a coward when I’ve got your back!”

Virgil blinked. He didn’t know what to say.

So, instead, he opened the cupcake box and handed Remus one of the last remaining two, keeping the final one for himself.

Remus perked up. “Oh, nice!” He immediately took a large bite of his cupcake, continuing to talk with a mouth full of food. “Thanks.”

Virgil snorted, turning away from the crumbs that spilled from the corners of Remus’s mouth.

“No problem.”

“Has everyone found a seat?” The teacher, Miss Bustier, called out, reminding Virgil that she was, in fact, still in the classroom.

The fact that she hadn’t intervened in the fight over desks was unsurprising, but still a disappointment. Virgil severely doubted her ability to keep their class – and, in particular, Remy – in check. This would be a long year.

“For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Miss Bustier,” the teacher smiled as she introduced herself, gesturing to her name that was written on the chalkboard. “I’ll be your teacher this year.”

“Ugh,” Remy complained, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. “He should be here by now!”

Remus leant in closer to Virgil, swallowing his last mouthful of cupcake. “Dad probably caught him and isn’t letting him come.”

“Why hasn’t he pulled you out of class, yet, then?”

“Ro’s the model. I’m not,” Remus explained, shrugging. “He doesn’t care what I do, as long as I don’t ruin his dumb ‘reputation’.”

***

Roman ran down the street, his red and white schoolbag hanging over his shoulder. He ignored his father’s assistant, Nathalie, calling after him, and hoped his bodyguard wouldn’t catch up in time.

Maybe, if he made it through the front doors of the school and into the classroom, Nathalie and his father wouldn’t pull him out until the end of the school day. Then, maybe he could convince them to let him keep coming back. After all, Remus had already snuck out and made it into the classroom, and had texted him a selfie of him and his ‘new friend’ to prove it.

But the expectations for Remus and Roman were different.

Remus was the lucky one. He wasn’t the model, so he was allowed much more freedom. Roman had to do as he was told.

He reached the bottom of the school steps, and was almost ready to ascend them and make his way through the doors, when he heard a sudden groan of pain. His head swivelled around and his eyes landed on an old man on his hands and knees on the pavement.

He’d clearly fallen, and he couldn’t get up.

For a moment, he glanced back and forth between the school and the old man. Did he help the old man, but risk being caught by Nathalie and his bodyguard, who were oh-so close behind? Or did he leave the man on the ground, but make it to school, to freedom?

Roman sighed, and turned back to the old man in the Hawaiian shirt, rushing over to him and bending over to help him up.

“Thank you so much, young man,” the old man spoke as Roman handed him his cane.

Roman smiled at him, opening his mouth to say something, but freezing as a large, familiar hand landed on his shoulder. He glanced back, and his eyes immediately landing on the blank face of his bodyguard, and the stern expression of Nathalie, who was stood just behind him.

No words had to be exchanged for Roman to know what was going to happen next.

As Roman was led towards the car that would take him home – to the prison he rarely got to leave on his own – he was unaware of the pair of eyes watching him intently. The old man, who now stood just fine without the useless cane, was staring at his back, watching him go.

The old man then smiled as the car drove away, turning and balancing his cane on his shoulder, before walking back in the direction of home with ease.

***

“For those of you who have P.E, Mr D’Argencourt is expecting you over at the stadium. The rest of you can all head over the library,” Miss Bustier called out as her class finished her lesson and got up, gathering their things.

Over by the desks, Pryce passed Andy a note, snickering to himself as he did so.

Andy read it quickly, and then crumpled it into a ball in his fist, turning back and glaring at the other, laughing teen.  

“What the hell, Pryce?” He snapped, lifting his arm and looking just about ready to punch him.

Pryce just laughed, leaning back in his chair as their teacher sighed at Andy.

“Andy, what’s going on?”

“It’s Pryce! He’s- he’s- he’s such an asshole! Oh, I’m gonna-” He grabbed the front of Pryce’s white and red hoodie, glaring up at the taller boy and shaking him roughly.

“Andy!” Miss Bustier scolded. “Go to the principal’s office.”

Pryce laughed – and Remy, who was always one for drama – laughed along with him as Andy angrily grabbed his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder and storming out of the classroom. The rest of them just watched.

***

“Perfect. A heart full of negative emotions. Anger. Sadness. Betrayal. Just what I need.”

A glowing white butterfly landed on the gloved hand of the super-villain. He covered it with his other hand, and it turned a neon black and purple.

“Turn him into my soldier. Fly away, little akuma, and evilize him!”

The akuma left his hand, and he thumped his cane against the floor – the sound echoing across the dark empty room – as he flew through the window. It moved across Paris, an inconspicuous little butterfly that drew no attention, as no one noticed its dark aura and glowing purple pattern, with a one-track mind as it headed towards its victim. Hawk Moth didn’t have to wait long before he felt it infect Andy Bruel, and he smiled as the connection between him and his target was opened. A glowing purple outline – a jagged mask – appeared across his face, a matching one appearing on his victim, too.

“Blackheart, I am Hawk Moth. You feel weak and helpless, scorned by your peers and the teacher you thought you could trust. I give you the power and strength to seek revenge on those who have wronged you. You’ll never feel weak and helpless again”

“Okay, Hawk Moth.”

***

The library was full of students talking quietly amongst themselves. Only a few were really doing work, though all were supposed to.

Virgil and Remus had managed to find themselves a good table – with Remus having elbowed many others out of the way to get it – and were sat across from the other new kid, Patton Césaire, and Thomas Haprèle-Sanders. They had their school books open in front of them, but were paying them little attention as they had been mostly left unsupervised.

Then, there was a loud bang as something large shook the whole library, knocking all four of them out of their seats and to the ground. Virgil yelped, holding his backpack to his chest and looking around frantically.

Remus jumped up first, grabbing Virgil by the wrist and tugging him up and across the room, towards the large TV that showed off security camera footage of different areas of the school. Both Patton and Thomas followed immediately behind, as did a few other nearby students, and they all watched in helpless shock as the screen showed a large, black, stone-like monster landing just outside the front of the school.

It dented the pavement, and the few nearby cars and people they could see all fled at the sight of it.

“Pryce!” It shouted.

Many of the other students around them began to shout and flee, but the four of them remained glued in place, watching the screen with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

“What the hell?” Virgil exclaimed. “That’s Andy’s voice!”

“Woah, it’s like he was turned into a real-life super-villain!” Remus’s voice lacked the fear that Virgil’s held, as he just stared at the screen in amazement.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Thomas asked worriedly.

Patton grabbed Remus’s arm, shaking him equally excitedly. “Do you think there’ll be a super-hero, too? Whatever turned Andy into this, it’s gotta be some kind of super-villain!”

“Or Andy’s the super-villain,” Remus commented.

Thomas shook his head. “Andy wouldn’t do that. He’s- he’s intimidating, but he’s not evil.”

“We’ve gotta follow, we could record it.” Remus grinned. “There’s no way I’m missing this!”

Patton nodded enthusiastically in agreement, and when Remus turned on his heel and ran in the opposite direction, he immediately ran after him. Thomas turned to follow, too, but hesitated, glancing back at Virgil, who remained in place.

“Are you coming?” He asked.

Virgil shook his head. “God, no. I’m going home. I don’t wanna be killed by this thing.”

Thomas’s brow creased in thought. “It’s Andy,” he said softly. “He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Then, he, too left, leaving Virgil on his own, still watching the TV screen. He watched as the monster with Andy’s voice picked up a car and threw it at the security camera, breaking it and showing only a rainbow error screen.

“Pryce!” It shouted as it did so.

Virgil winced.

***

Roman’s lesson had been far more boring than usual. Normally, he at least had Remus to entertain him, but as Remus had managed to successfully escape and go to school, it had left only him and Nathalie in the large, echoing dining room. The subject was boring, too. Roman never had been the biggest fan of History.

For a minute, his father, Gabriel, had emerged to scold him for going to school, and comment on how Remus was a ‘lost cause’ and that only Roman needed to be protected. Roman hadn’t been sure which of the two statements had angered him more, but he’d left in a hurry, locking himself in his room and turning on the TV.

The day became significantly more interesting when the news displayed a monster named Blackheart rampaging across Paris, but Roman was still stuck in his room, far from the action.

(When the police had fired their weapons at Blackheart, the monster had only grown larger and stronger, still yelling the name ‘Pryce’ as it destroyed cars and damaged the pavement with each footstep. The mayor had recommended everyone stay home while the police dealt with the threat.)

Then, Roman noticed the octagonal box laying on the coffee table in front of the TV.

***

“This day keeps getting better and better,” Virgil mumbled sarcastically to himself as he watched the news report on the super-villain.

Then, he noticed the octagonal box – one that he’d never seen before – laying on his desk by the computer.

“Huh?” He said, picking it up and looking it over. “What’s this?”

It was well-made: black with an intricate red pattern carved into the top.

He opened it, and the first thing he saw was a necklace – a silver chain with a large black and purple spider-shaped charm hanging off it. The second thing he saw was a purple ball of light emerge from the necklace.

The spider charm changed to a black tear-drop shape, and a small, round, spider-shaped creature with a large head formed out of the ball of light, floating above the jewellery.  

Virgil yelped, pushing his chair back, wheeling as far away from the floating spider as possible, only just managing to not fall out of the chair as the box and the necklace clattered to the ground. The floating spider stared at him from a moment, uncurling its eight legs and blinking its eight eyes at him. It looked almost... cute – mostly black, but with a purple pattern – but Virgil was far too freaked out to notice that.

“What the fuck?”

Then, the floating spider opened its mouth and spoke, and Virgil just about had a heart attack.

“That is not very nice,” it said, in a low, female voice.

“What the fuck are you?”

The spider had a very inhuman-looking face, but Virgil could immediately tell that the look she gave him was flat and slightly annoyed.

“I am a kwami,” she spoke calmly. “And my name is Boo.”

“Boo? Like- like a ghost?”

She sighed. “The sound was named after me, not the other way around. Plagg thought it was funny, but I beg to differ. I suppose it can’t be helped anymore, though. And you can’t have known any better.”

Boo floated closer to him, and Virgil immediately jolted back.

“There is no need to be afraid,” Boo continued in an impatient tone of voice. “I am here to help.”

“Help with what?”

Boo made a quiet sound that was halfway between a hum and a buzz, before she drifted down towards the floor, landing between the box and the necklace that had fallen out of it.

“This is a Miraculous,” she explained. “The Spider Miraculous, to be precise. Miraculouses are magical pieces of jewellery that grant powers to their users when combined with their respective kwamis. Currently, the Butterfly Miraculous – also known as the Moth Miraculous – is in the hands of a super-villain. It grants the user the ability to choose a champion to fight for them, granting them temporary powers to aid them in battling evil.” She paused for a moment. “But, in the hands of evil, it is used to turn victims into-”

“Monsters,” Virgil finished, his eyes returning to the computer screen, where the news still displayed the battle against Blackheart. “Like what’s happened to Andy.”

Boo nodded, seeming please that he figured that part out on his own. “Exactly. The villain has used an akuma – a butterfly, that when combined with an object turns the owner of the object into a hero or a monster. The Butterfly Miraculous must be retrieved and returned to the Guardian.”

“Guardian?”

“Yes. The Guardian keeps a hold of the Miraculouses – or, at least, some of the Miraculouses.” She sighed, her small body drooping visibly. “Many are still lost to us. You see, Miraculouses come in sets, in large boxes that hold at least a dozen at a time, but our Guardian currently only holds a few of us, all from different boxes.”

“Okay... but, what are you doing here? Like... in my room?”

Boo moved so she was right in front of his face: all eight of her eyes staring right into Virgil’s two, and he barely resisted the urge to look away uncomfortably.

“You have been chosen to wield the Spider Miraculous, to become a hero and fight the wielder of the Butterfly Miraculous.”

Virgil froze.

“Wha- but I’m not a hero.”

“Not yet, but you will be.”

“But- but I don’t know how to fight,” Virgil spoke hurriedly, stumbling over his words. “And I especially don’t know how to fight a super-villain!”

“The Miraculous will enhance your strength, speed and agility. It will give you the physical abilities needed to fight.”

“But I’m just a teenager! I go to school, I design and make clothes, I bake with my parents. That’s it! I can’t fight!”

“Anyone can use a Miraculous to fight,” Boo said calmly. “Even the weakest of people could use a Miraculous to fight. But it takes a special kind of soul to be a hero.” She flew forwards, resting one of her eight arms on Virgil’s chest, over his heart. “And you have that.”

"I- what?”

“Every Miraculous has a specific type of human it matches well with,” she continued, speaking slowly and patiently. “These people are rare and difficult to find, but every Guardian has the ability to see which souls make the perfect wielders. And you, Virgil Dupain-Cheng, are a perfect match for the Spider. The Guardian tested you, too, and he saw that your heart is good. You will be a good hero.”

There were many things to unpack there, and Virgil was feeling really quite overwhelmed. His hands bunched up the material of his hoodie in tight fists, and he could feel his heart race.

“I... I don’t remember being tested?”

It was difficult to tell with her inhuman face, but Virgil got the feeling that Boo was smiling at him.

“The best tests are the ones where the subject is unaware that they are being tested,” she spoke cryptically. “Those produce the most genuine results.” She paused for a moment. “Does this mean you are ready? Because there is still a villain rampaging through the streets of Paris, and we really should be quick.”

Virgil straightened up suddenly, like he was only now remembering the situation at hand.

“You said that the monster was created by a- a wielder of the Moth Miraculous, right?”

“Correct.”

“So, where are they? The news only talks about the, uh... Andy. Blackheart. Where’s the Butterfly?”

“Likely in hiding,” Boo answered. “The Butterfly works from a distance. The wielder likely won’t emerge unless absolutely necessary, and will only fight through their champions.”

Virgil’s brow creased in confusion. “But then how am I supposed to fight him?” He paused for a moment, watching the kwami’s expression, before sighing. “This is gonna last more than one battle, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so. I believe it won’t be so easy to draw out the Butterfly user, and you’ll have to fight many akumas to get there.”

“Shit.”

Boo shot him a chastising look, and he mumbled an apology. She sighed.

“We do have some idea of the Butterfly’s motivations, though.”

“And what’s that?”

“I believe they are going to be after the Ladybug Miraculous and Black Cat Miraculous: the most powerful of all Miraculouses. Creation and Destruction. Combined, they give the user practically infinite power, so we must make sure they stay out of the wrong hands. The Guardian currently holds these Miraculouses, and we believe that that is what the Butterfly holder is after.”

“So... it’s a race to see who can find the other first? The Butterfly sending out a – what did you call it? – an akuma, and the Guardian sending out me?”

“You will have a partner, too. The Guardian has sent out the Red Dragon Miraculous as well as the Spider. We should hurry, he might have already transformed by now.”

“Crap, okay.”

“So, you’ll do it?”

“Uh... yeah? I guess. It- it's worth a try.”

“Wonderful.” Boo clapped with four pairs of spider-hands. “Put on the necklace and from now on, you cannot take it off.” She paused for a moment, watching as Virgil bent down, picking up the box and the necklace, shoving the box into a random desk drawer, and putting the necklace on. “When you wish to transform, say ‘Boo, web out,’ and then when you wish to de-transform, say ‘Boo, web in.’ When transformed, there will be a glamour on you that keeps others from recognising your face and voice, though if you are not careful, they may still work out your identity. This cannot happen.”

Virgil nodded. “Oh- okay.”

“Your power is called Spider Web,” she continued. “Say the words when transformed and it will be activated. You will be able to shoot out a large web from your fingertips that will trap anyone and anything, but yourself. It cannot be destroyed by anything but the power of a few different Miraculouses, and will stay in place for as long as you are transformed. Once you use this, however, you will have five minutes before you de-transform, and you will have to feed me to transform again.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

Boo huffed, crossing four sets of arms. “We will have to work on your language, spiderling.”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just- Andy’s been a monster for way more than five minutes. How come the Moth guy doesn’t get a timer?”

“The Butterfly wielder is likely an adult. Teenagers are given timers, but they are much more flexible and it is easier to develop a Miraculous bond with a teenager than an adult. This will not be too much of an issue, just as long you carry around food to feed me with. It does not take too long to recharge.”

“Okay... what do you eat?”

“Anything sweet.”

“So... like candy?”

“That shall suffice.”

“Okay, that’s... I should have something somewhere...” Virgil wheeled his chair back over his desk and began to hurriedly sift through a few drawers before he finally found what he was looking for, and pulled out a small bag of gummy worms. “Will this work?”

Boo’s eyes lit up. “Oh, these are worm-shaped?”

Virgil nodded.

“That is certainly preferable.” She nodded, and Virgil stuffed the bag into his hoodie pocket. “Insect-shaped sweet things would be my favourite.”

“Is- is that everything?”

“I believe so. You partner’s Miraculous will give him the ability to destroy akumas – not ideal, the Ladybug does work better in these situations, but we must work with what we have got. My recommendation is that you trap this ‘Blackheart’, and then your partner breaks the object and the akuma. After the akuma is destroyed, the Guardian will use the Ladybug Miraculous’s cure to fix any damage caused by the akuma.”

Virgil blinked. “But I thought you said he didn’t want to risk using the Ladybug or the Black Cat?”

“He will not be involved in the battle,” Boo explained. “He will remain in hiding, as the cure can be used from a distance. Do you understand?”

“Alright... I- I think so.” Virgil nodded. “So... uh, I guess – Boo, web out?”

He said it more like a question than anything else, but it worked just fine, and Boo was immediately sucked into the Miraculous. Virgil felt the transformation wash over him – strangely cool and tingly as his clothes were replaced by a surprisingly comfortable super-suit.

Most of the super-suit was one piece – solid black with deep, purple pockets on the trousers and a purple belt around the middle. The boots were black, too, (but with purple soles) and there was a large white spider-web in the centre of the chest, just under the necklace. The jewel had changed to a bright purple, eight-legged spider again, like it had had before Boo had come out, but this time it had five glowing purple eyes on its head. There was a jacket, too, that was black and purple with white spider-web patches, that had a large hood currently pulled down. His gloves were thick, sturdy and black.

Under the jacket, over the suit, there looked to be four thick 3D lines – two on each side – spreading out from his spine, like extra ribs over his ribcage, that gave the illusion of Virgil having four short extra legs, just stuck to his torso.

Attached to his belt on one side was something that looked halfway between a phone and a tablet, that matched the black and purple aesthetic, with a spider-web across the back. On the other side, also attached to his belt, was a coiled-up piece of white rope that appeared to be thick and sturdy and incredibly shiny.

And, on his face, there was a mask. It was black and purple, surrounding his eyes and covering most of his nose, but spreading out like a spider-web near the edges of his face.

His previously brown eyes were now solid black – no whites or irises, just solid black and shiny, with quite the creepy effect – and his previously black hair was now tinted purple, a colour he’d always wanted to dye it to. His canines had sharpened to a point, like fangs.

Aesthetically, he looked closer to a typical super-villain than a super-hero, and Virgil loved it.

Virgil grinned despite his anxiety – it was ever-present, really, so he had experience trying to ignore the pounding heart in his chest. This felt... right.

“Virgil? Honey, is everything okay?” He heard his mother call out from under the trapdoor that led to his room.

“Crap,” he muttered. “Uh, yeah, Mama, I’m fine!” He shouted back.

Part of the whole ‘super-hero’ thing was keeping your identity a secret, he assumed, so he figured he probably shouldn’t let his parents know. He left his room, climbing up onto the rooftop balcony and ducking down so no one on the street below could see him.

“Okay...” he mumbled to himself. “How do I...”

Virgil’s hand landed on the rope attached to his belt. Immediately, he could feel himself connecting to it, almost like it was becoming an extension of his body – something he could use just as easily as the rest of his limbs. He knew exactly what to do.

He straightened up, pulling the rope off his belt and feel one end of it coil around his hand like a snake, attaching itself easily. Then, he flicked his wrist, and the other end of the rope shot forward, stretching and elongating itself magically and catching a gargoyle on the rooftop of an opposite building, just across the street.

Virgil took a deep breath, and then tugged.

He was suddenly pulled forward as the rope followed his silent command and made itself shorter, swinging him across the street and then up and over the building, much further than he’d anticipated.

He yelped, then bit back a scream as he tumbled uncontrollably through the air – the rope detaching itself from the building as his grip on it loosened. He moved too fast to see where he was going and he couldn’t catch himself in time before he crashed into another figure on a whole different rooftop than the one he’d meant to land on.

“Jesus- fuck!” He yelped as he rolled off the other person and landed on his back.

“Oh, wow! You were-” they took a moment to huff loudly, out of breath from being knocked into by Virgil. “You were not looking where you were going, were you?”

Virgil panted, out of breath, taking a few seconds to compose himself – staring up at the blue and white sky and wincing slightly at the too-bright sun – before he finally had enough air in his lungs to talk again.

“Excuse me for not being perfect on my first day of people a superhero,” he hissed, perhaps a little harsher than intended, but he was having an interesting day.

There was a beat.

“So, you’re my partner, then?” Virgil didn’t have time to answer that before a masked face appeared in his vision as his partner got up, looking him over critically. “Hmm... you look like a villain, but I suppose you’ll do.”

Virgil took a moment to glare half at him and half at the sun, before he sat up and finally looked over his partner properly.

It was a teenage boy about his age – though that part he could’ve told from the voice alone – with blond hair and bright green eyes. He was dressed in a way that looked halfway between a super-suit for fighting crime, and a proper suit for a formal event: red and gold with hints of white, all made up of dragon-like scales. His gloves were a pristine white, matching his boots. On one side, on his hip, he had a tablet similar to Virgil’s, though red and gold inside of black and purple, and on his other hip there was a sheathed sword.

On his wrist there was a golden bracelet: it looked like a dragon with red gems for eyes and five red spikes down its back, its tail in its mouth. Virgil assumed that that was his Miraculous.

Virgil huffed, crossing his arms. “How come you get a sword, and I just get a piece of rope?”

The other hero laughed, holding out his hand to Virgil. “Because I’m awesome, that’s why.”

Virgil took his hand, allowing the other boy to pull him up so they were standing side-by-side. He was slightly taller than the Dragon hero, and he couldn’t help but feel just a tad smug about it.

“So,” his partner continued, straightening up and announcing. “I am Prince Dragon.”

“That’s too long,” Virgil said immediately, without thinking. “I’m calling you Princey.”

Princey huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine, whatever. And who might you be?”

Virgil blinked. “Uh...”

“You mock my alias, yet you still haven’t come up with your own?”

“I wasn’t mocking, I just- I'm not creative, okay! I dunno. How the hell did you come up with yours so quickly?”

“Because I’m a genius, spider boy.”

“Oh, well, sorry it takes me more than fifteen freaking minutes to come up with a good name,” Virgil snapped sarcastically. “My mind’s been a little occupied.”

“No need to be rude, oh, eight-legged partner of mine,” Prince Dragon said, before flashing a bright grin. “I’ll just help you come up with one. Hmm...” He tapped his finger on his chin. “What about Spinner? You know, ‘cos spiders spin webs?”

“Pass.”

“What about... Charlotte?”

“What?”

“You know, Charlotte? Like Charlotte’s web? Ugh, please tell me my partner isn’t uncultured. I don’t know if I’ll be able to work with you if you can’t understand my references.”

“No, I- ugh, no, I get the reference. I just- whatever, that’s a dumb name. Try again.”

“No, need to be so rude, my knight in gloomy armour.” Prince Dragon then suddenly perked up again. “Ooh, what about something knight-themed?”

“No.”

Princey ignored him. “Stormy Knight? That matches your gloomy attitude!”

“But not my powers or my costume,” Virgil said flatly. “I’m a spider. I can make a big web to trap people, that’s it. Nothing weather-related. Also-” he paused, before his eyes widened. “Oh, shit, shouldn’t we be saving Paris?”

Just as he said this, the pair suddenly heard a loud rumble and a crash. Both jumped, startled, their heads swivelling around. They watched, wide-eyed and shocked, as a nearby building fell and crashed to the ground in a large cloud of dust.

“Oh, my stars, I can’t believe I let you distract me like that! We have a job to do!”

“Me? Distract you? You were the one listing names and wasting time!”

***

The seats of the stadium were all empty, the only people in the vicinity being the students stretching and doing P.E. in the centre. They were all calm, relaxed and chatting amongst themselves, none of them having heard the news of the monster roaming the Paris streets, who was looking for one of them in particular.

“Pryce!” Blackheart roared, leaping into the stadium and denting the ground as it landed with a crash. “So, who’s the coward now?”

The rest of the students fled, leaving only a frozen Pryce standing terrified in the centre, his legs unable to move for once in his life. Then, after a moment, he finally remembered to run, and he turned on his heel and attempted to flee.

The monster was large – at least twice as tall as the average human – and made out of smooth, black stone, with two large, glowing white eyes that took up almost half of its face. One hand was permanently clenched into a fist. The other reached out towards the fleeing Pryce. Its hand was five times the size of his head – it would easily be able to crush his skull to dust with just one simple squeeze.

Pryce tripped, but before the monster could grab and destroy him, a hero dressed in red, gold and white landed between them.

(Enhanced speed, strength and agility made travelling across Paris much swifter and easier, especially when paired with a partner who could swing between buildings with invincible spider-silk rope.)

“My, you’re quite the giant, aren’t you?” Prince Dragon grinned at the beast, unsheathing his sword and getting into a fighting stance.

“And you’re tiny compared to me. Is that toothpick supposed to scare me?”

Blackheart lifted his fist, before smashing it down over Prince Dragon’s head. He dodged out of the way just in time, and a cloud of dust burst from the spot that the stone hand had hit the ground. The giant straightened up again, and the purple of a mask appeared over his face for a brief moment.

“No!” Blackheart heard Hawk Moth shout in his head. “They don’t have the Ladybug or the Black Cat Miraculouses! Capture them, take their Miraculouses, and find out where they’re hiding them!”

Then, the outline faded, but Blackheart knew that the villain was still watching through his eyes.

“Where are the Ladybug and the Black Cat?” He bellowed at Prince Dragon as the hero easily dodged another blow. “Give them to me!”

Prince Dragon jumped up – his Miraculous making him leap much higher and further than he usually could – and brought his sword down over Blackheart’s head. The metal and stone collided with a loud cracking sound, but the villain remained completely unharmed. If the sword hadn’t been magical, it likely would’ve broken, but it didn’t, and, for that, Princey was very grateful.

But when the hero’s boots hit the ground again, he watched in open-mouthed horror as Blackheart began to glow, increasing in size before turning back to Prince Dragon with a growl.

“Crap.”

As he said this, Virgil finally landed in the arena, just across the grass from the fight – having slowed down and dawdled out of anxiety, gnawing on his thumb as he considered just turning around and fleeing.

Being a hero? That wasn’t for him! He was Virgil, he was a coward! He was no hero. He couldn’t do this. He really, really couldn’t do this. He should’ve told Boo ‘no’ and just given the Miraculous to somebody else, someone actually fit for being a hero.

Maybe Remus? He certainly seemed brave enough.

Or Thomas. Or Patton. They were both nice and smart and-

“Hey, spider-guy, what are you waiting for? Kill him!”

Virgil jumped, spinning around, his eyes finally landing on Remus, Thomas and Patton, who were crouching down at the edge of the arena, watching the fight.

“No, no! Don’t kill him. Save him!” Thomas elbowed Remus’s arm, shooting him a reprimanding look, before turning back to the hero with one of wide-eyed concern

Remus then muttered something that sounding something like. “Fine, if you wanna be boring.”

(Virgil suddenly realised that his hearing was much, much better like this. As was his eyesight, as he could make out things far away much clearer than usual.)

Patton nodded enthusiastically, agreeing with Thomas, and then held up his phone, which appeared to be filming the action – which included Virgil, too, of course.  

He took a deep breath – feeling his heart beat loudly and steadily in his chest: ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum – before he straightened up, suddenly filled with a courage that he hadn’t felt before. Virgil turned back to the fight, and cursed under his breath when he realised that, in the moments he’d been hesitating, Prince Dragon had lost his sword (it lay abandoned on the grass, not too far from Virgil) and the hero, himself, had been grabbed by Blackheart.

Virgil grabbed his rope, feeling one end coil around his wrist, just as it had before. It was tight enough to be reassuring, but not enough to be physically uncomfortable. He then whipped the other end forward, and it wrapped itself around Blackheart’s legs.

He tugged, and the villain fell forward onto its face. Both of his hands opened as he tripped: Prince Dragon tumbling out of one of them, and a small purple rock falling right out of the other. Blackheart picked the rock back up as quickly as he could, curling his hand into a protective fist around it, but Virgil managed to catch a quick glimpse of it, and something clicked in his head.

He turned and ran over to his partner as Prince Dragon got back to his feet.

“The akuma’s in his fist,” Virgil spoke quickly. “It’s a purple rock. He dropped it when he fell, but I doubt he’ll make that same mistake again.”

“Alright, then let’s kick his ass and destroy that thing!”

Virgil grabbed his elbow and tugged him back before he could run off. “Not so fast, Princey. I think he gets bigger when you hit him. We’ve gotta be smart about this.”

Prince Dragon huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine, then. What do you suggest, knock-off Peter Parker?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, glancing around the arena for inspiration. Blackheart was frozen in place with a glowing purple mask on his face. It was vaguely butterfly-shaped, so he assumed it had something to do with the Moth Miraculous wielder who had turned him into that monster.

“What’s your power? I can make a big web to trap it with. It sticks to everyone but me,” Virgil said, but when Prince Dragon opened his mouth to respond, he hurriedly interrupted him. “And don’t say the name, yet! That activates it, and it’s a one-time use kinda thing.”

Prince Dragon blinked. “It is?”

“Yes, and we have five minutes afterwards before we de-transform. Didn’t your, uh... your kwami explain that to you?”

Prince Dragon shot him a sheepish smile. “I got excited.”

Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes again. “Fine. Please, tell me you at least know what your power is.”

“Relax, Hot Topic, I'm not stupid, I know that one! I can breathe fire – it lasts a few seconds and can destroy anything. Tarr said I should use it to destroy the akuma.”

“Right, you’ll use it on the rock then.”

Princey nodded.

“Okay... but how do we get him to open his fist?”

“Uh...” Virgil trailed off. He didn’t know what to say, but his thoughts were interrupted when Blackheart suddenly turned and leapt at them again. “Improvise!” He shouted as they ran in opposite directions to avoid being crushed.

“Nice plan!” Prince Dragon shouted back sarcastically, grabbing his previously-abandoned sword off the ground and quickly re-sheathing it.

Blackheart turned to Virgil, lifting his fists in the air, and Virgil gulped.

“Where are the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses?” Blackheart shouted again.

“Why the hell would I know?” Virgil shouted back, jumping to the left just in time for a large, black stone fist to come crashing down where he’d just stood.

His head swivelled around quickly as he looked for something, anything, that could help them defeat Blackheart. At one side of the stadium stood Thomas, Remus and Patton, still watching and filming the fight. Virgil was quite grateful that Blackheart showed no interest in attacking the trio, as he wasn’t sure what he would do if he had to protect them, too. At the other side stood his partner, who stared at him expectantly.

“Shit,” Virgil swore under his breath. “Uh- uh-”

Then, suddenly, something clicked in his head and he straightened up. He had a plan.

Blackheart turned, ready to attack Prince Dragon, but before he even had his back fully to Virgil, the hero whistled loudly get his attention back.

“Hey!” Virgil shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “I lied. I’ve got them right here!” He patted his pockets, backing up as he did so. “Come and get them!”

Blackheart spun back around, roaring and running towards Virgil, bringing the fist that didn’t hold the akuma down. Virgil stayed in place until the last second, then rolled out of the way just as the stone hand hit the ground.

“Spider Web!” Virgil shouted, aiming his hands in the direction of Blackheart’s fist.

A white web shot from the palms of his hands, flying in the direction of Blackheart and landing over his fist, spreading out, covering it and attaching it to the ground. The villain tried to pull his hand back but failed, grunting as he did so. He tried to rest his foot on the web to steady himself, but the foot got stuck, too.  

Blackheart turned and roared at the heroes as Prince Dragon returned to Virgil’s side.

“Nice work, sidekick.”

Virgil turned and glared at him. “Partner,” he corrected.

Princey raised his hands defensively. “Kidding, kidding! No need to get your super-suit in a twist, my dark and stormy knight.” He grinned widely. “So, what now? How do we get him to open his other hand?”

“That’s where you come in,” Virgil said, turning back to Blackheart and watching the villain try and fail to escape the web. “I need you to throw me at him.”

“You- what?”

“Throw me at him,” Virgil repeated, a tad impatiently. “At the fist we need to open. The suits make us strong enough, I’m pretty sure. I’m hoping he’ll try to catch me and drop the rock.”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“Then... panic.”

Prince Dragon snorted. “Well, I suppose it’s the only plan we’ve got.”

“Destroy the rock as soon as you can. Hopefully, before Blackheart can crush me.”

“You have such faith in me. Surprising, given your gloomy attitude and evil colour-scheme.”

“Yeah, well, don’t make me regret it.”

Prince Dragon grinned. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Then, without warning – which Virgil supposed he should’ve expected – he picked Virgil up, taking a moment to adjust him in his arms, and almost balance him on his shoulder, before launching him straight at the villain with a strength much higher than any regular human’s.

As Virgil tumbled through the air, he heard cheering from the side lines, with Remus’s voice being the loudest of the three. He probably would’ve smiled at the reassurance if he hadn’t been currently falling through the air towards a stone monster at an alarming speed.

Blackheart opened his hand to catch Virgil – just as he’d hoped – the stone fingers wrapping tightly around the hero’s middle, and the rock fell to the ground.

Prince Dragon dashed over to it, picking it up and tossing it into the air.

“Fire Breath!” He shouted, and a large bright flame immediately burst from his mouth, lasting a few seconds and burning the small, purple rock into ash.

A small, black and purple butterfly appeared from the ash, and, at the same time, Blackheart turned back to Andy. Both him and Virgil fell to the ground with a thump, and Andy immediately began to look around wildly – wide-eyed and panicked and confused, like he had absolutely no idea how he’d gotten there.

The ash turned back into a crumpled ball of paper, and the akuma flew away. Neither of the two heroes noticed the butterfly.

“Yes!” Prince Dragon cheered, pumping his fist in the air. “I’m awesome!” As Virgil got up, dusting himself off and shooting him a pointed look, he continued with: “Oh, and, uh... you’re awesome, too, I guess.”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

He then looked around. “Uh... isn’t all this damage supposed to fix itself? Boo said that when we were done, the Guardian would use the Ladybug to fix everything that was destroyed by the akuma.”

Prince Dragon shrugged. “Maybe he’s just late. This is our first time doing this, after all.”

“What the hell’s going on? What am I doing here?” Andy sat up.

“Woah! That was amazing!” Patton exclaimed as the three other students ran over to them. “You two are so cool!” He bounced up and down on the spot, still recording on his phone. “Who are you? What can we call you?”

Princey beamed. “I am Prince Dragon, and I vow to protect Paris until the villain that akumatized your friend is caught!”

“And, uh... I am...” Virgil trailed off, glancing for a moment at Prince Dragon for help, but his partner just shrugged. “I’m... Tarantula?”

“Woah! Badass!” Remus exclaimed. “You look like Halloween threw up on you. That’s awesome!”

Thomas spared a quick glance at the two heroes, before rushing over to Andy to help him up. Andy’s face reddened slightly when the other teen touched him, and something immediately clicked in Virgil’s head. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he noticed that his necklace was beeping, and he glanced down at it.

Three of the eyes on the spider had stopped glowing, leaving only two remaining. One was flickering, and it took him a moment to realise that that meant he had less than two minutes before he transformed back.

“Crap, I’ve gotta go,” he said. “Identity’s gotta stay a secret, you know?” He turned back to the others, who were watching him, and he awkwardly saluted. “Uh... Tarantula out, I guess.”

Before he could die of awkward embarrassment, he grabbed his rope again, quickly using it to swing out of the stadium and leave. Princey seemed the friendly type – he could finish dealing with the civilians on his own.

***

“So, thanks to this amateur footage, the Parisians now know the names of our heroes. The Mayor is organizing a huge celebration in honour of our new protectors: Prince Dragon and Tarantula!”

Roman sat back on the sofa, grinning proudly as he watched the news.

“I can’t believe it, I’m a super-hero now!”

“Eww, what’s this?” The red dragon kwami pulled a face.

“What? It’s ice cream. My personal chef made it. Don’t you like it?”

Tarr flew closer to his face, crossing his arms and glaring at Roman. “No! It’s cold, so I hate it! If you expect me to get my energy back up, I’m gonna need something hotter!”

“Like what?”

“Like peppers! The spiciest you can find!”

Roman sighed, taking his phone from his pocket and switching it on. “Fine. Remus isn’t home yet, I’ll text him and get him to pick some up. If I bribe him with video games, he’ll probably do it, no questions asked.”

“Good! Remember, no one can know about me, not even your twin. It’s, like, one of the most important rules of the Miraculous.”

Roman sighed again, louder this time. “But what’s the point of saving people, if no one knows to praise my name!”

***

“Just as Paris is about to celebrate the appearance of our two new super-heroes, Prince Dragon and Tarantula, a new wave of panic is sweeping across the capital as dozens of people are mysteriously transformed into black stone monsters. It’s simply unbelievable!”

“Wha- Boo, what the hell? You didn’t say this was gonna happen?”

The spider kwami flew over to her holder, who was watching the news on his computer, which now displayed video footage of dozens of black and purple butterflies – akumas – flying around Paris and turning people into frozen black stone monsters. Statues.

“Did you destroy the akuma?” Boo asked.

“We destroyed the stone that held the akuma. Isn’t that what you told us to do?”

Boo shook her head, sighing. “No, an akuma can multiply, that’s why it must be purified or destroyed after breaking what holds it. Virgil, if Andy’s emotions turn negative again, then Hawkmoth can use original akuma to turn him back into Blackheart. He’ll bring all those statues to life and control them as one giant army.”

Virgil’s stomach dropped.

“Shit.”

[lovieebby]

Can you write something about poly!oscar and Pedro pleaseee?

//okie I’ve got a lot of poly!oscar and pedro on my mind so here we go !

((Okay so this is just me being selfish but I smoke (not the wacky tabbacky) when I’m not little and I’m just project that here))

When you attempt to step outside to smoke Papa Pedro is always the one to stop you to double check you if you’re out of little space. He’ll have your chin in his hand, tilting you side to side, almost like looking for a speck of glitter or dirt. But you brush him off with a whine and assure him your a big girl and you’re fine. Even though Pedro and Oscar don’t like it, they can’t judge too much due to them doing it time to time.

There’s other times where you’d catch your daddy and papa kissing and you would whine about them not giving you kisses too 🥺

And Oscar is definitely the daddy that has to remind himsefl that you’re not a doll, but some times he can’t help it when he passes a store and sees something in the window. There could be a pair of socks, a cute skirt and Oscar has to get it for you just to see you in it. And he also does this for Pedro, he’ll get him jeans to give his flat ass a little umph, or he’ll order a cute button up that has cute little characters on it. You also can’t tell me he’s not the kind of guy that gets the matching christmas jammies from old navy… underwear and onsies all alike...

But you specifically, are that partner that needs at a minimum, two kisses from each man before bed. Or when you take a shower, whether in little space or not, someone has to guard outside the shower curtain so the monsters don’t get you. Oof and you also tuck stuffies into Pedro or Oscar’s chest or underarms when they accidentally fall asleep on the couch during a movie.

You also have to have them constantly remind you to take your vitamins and/or medications, you just get so excited about the day— about what daddy or papa have planned or being excited to color with your new markers in your coloring book. Sometimes you get annoyed and tell them you already took them, but daddy and papa always find out if you’ve lied. And that never ends well.

Pedro also is the softer one with punishments, he’d rather you sit in the corner than spank you, though he’d rather leave the spanking for when he’s behind you ;) Daddy Oscar though… he’s the daddy that is stern and his rule breaking can get down right rough.

Oscar doesn’t like to punish you really, but he tries to make it up in the end with something sweet. Especially when he uses his favorite punishment where he has you cock warming him with your mouth or cunt, he loves to see you wither and whine with his cock deep in you. His other favorite punishment is making you do extra chores, because nine times out of ten, Daddy and Papa go around the corner out of eye sight and rock-paper-scissor it out to see whos chores you take. Usually its him, but Papa won the last two times so he’s not too keen in doing that anymore. (He doesn’t want Pedro’s dumb luck becoming real)

Okay but can we talk ab one of y’all getting sick? 🥺

Let’s say its Pedro. His sinusesare so swollen its hard for him to breathe & his drainage is making his tummy hurt. So you and Oscar make sure he’s taking all the medicine he can to get better. And sometimes to keep Papa company while in bed, you’ll silently sit besides him and color or watch a little YouTube video while Oscar makes dinner or while he’s at work. During that time though, Papa is a little snappy, only because he’s having a hard time breathing through his nose and he can’t taste his food— which is very frustrating to him. But he definitely apologizes for his crappy attitude, especially when its you that calls him out.

“You tell me all the time to fix my attitude when I get snippy!” You’d huff, about to leave the room when he’d snap at you for accidentally leaving a box of crayons in the bed.

But oh lord, when Oscar gets sick, its the end.

He wants to cuddle all the time and constantly complains about his tummy hurting, or purposely saying he has a headache just for you two to turn down the TV or switch it to something different because he didn’t like a show. Oscar would definitely be the one that would tell you seeing you with less clothes would so help his aching body. That would make Pedro smack his thigh with a stern glare as you lean to the side to flash him your chest while you stand behind Pedro. To make Daddy feel better of course. Daddy is also the guy that would be in denial that he’s actually sick before you and Papa getting onto him about taking something to help or to rest before it gets worse, though most of the times it would get worse and you and Papa would have to deal with an extra cranky Oscar.

And lets talk about little!reader pmsing, on god its WW3 in the house.

Pedro and Oscar would lose count of how many times you’ve been spanked or gagged. Oscar himself had stuck you in the corner and you wouldn’t stop backtalking, so he made a promise to put a gag in your mouth if you didn’t shut up. And you being a brat: you turned around and stuck your tongue out with a “I’d like to see you try!”

Oscar moved so fast to shut you up. Though after he did you cried as you sat in your corner, drool and tears mixing together while you pouted. Pedro had to leave the room after a while due to you looking over your shoulder time to time and every time you did, his cock would stir hard at the sight of you.

I will bet anything that Papa Pedro has a crying kink. 👀

Pedro really couldn’t last long if you cried, sometimes if you were in trouble and cried, he’d hate to see that because those tears ment you were upset but if it was tears from overstimulation or sexual frustration from himself or Oscar; he wants to see it drip down your naked chest and onto the floor and he could lose his shit the moment it does.

Oscar’s deep hiden kink would probably be you gagged and tied up, his little feisty little girl unable to talk or move just gets him in this primal mood where he needs to tease and mock you for whatever you did or said.

[shewillreadyou]

Becoming: Chapter 4- About last night

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N: This is my 4th part to this TRR series. Karis and Liam finally get their “Proper Date.” Her thoughts are in BOLD

Catch up: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Disclaimers: All characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT

Word Count: 2915 It’s LONG.

Pairings: Liam Rhys x MC (Karis Vasquez)

Song inspiration: Last Night- Az’ yet

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.​

After they had breakfast in bed following a night of catching up at Karis’ Paris flat, Liam excused himself and headed to his hotel to get dressed for the day that he has planned for them. 

Her phone buzzed. It was Misti.. 

 After catching up with Misti, Karis opened her largest piece of luggage; knowing that she didn’t pack anything extremely dressy. She mostly brought things that she could wear into the office. She didn’t really anticipate that during these couple months she would spend in Paris she would bump into Liam or anyone else for that matter. She pulled out a black pencil skirt and a bustier top and laid them across the bed. 

Liam mentioned that she should pack an overnight bag as well. She threw in some sexy white lingerie that she sometimes wore under her clothes. She never knew why but it always did wonders for her confidence and for some reason, she felt that she would need a double dose tonight. 

She didn’t really know what else to put in the bag so she included lounge pants, her favorite hoodie, a bikini, some jeans, a cute blouse, and some fuzzy socks. If there was anything else she had forgotten, she is sure Liam would make up for it. 

She showered, ran the flat iron through her hair, and did her makeup before putting her Granny’s diamond studs in her ears. She squeezed into her top and shimmied into the tight skirt that shamelessly showed off her curves. She buckled her strappy heels and had just sat down painting her fingernails a bubble gum pink when she got a text from Liam. 

She blushed furiously at the picture he sent. He looked extremely dapper in his tuxedo, yet all she could think about is taking it off. Get ahold of yourself and just enjoy him tonight Karis, she thought to herself. 

Before she knew it there was a knock at the door. She could feel her heart beating in her throat. But why was she so nervous? It was just Liam. She opened the door and there he stood. All 6 foot 4, 240 lbs of him standing there looking like a snack in that damned tuxedo. 

He smiled at her and said, “Hey Angel.” 

She was sure she was having an out of body experience until he pushed passed her, kissing her on the cheek. 

“Sorry love, may I use your restroom? I have to go when I get nervous.” She just stood there mouth agape. 

What just happened? What does he have to be nervous about?

Moments later she heard the toilet flush and the sink running. 

Well, at least I know he washes his hands.

He emerged from the restroom moments later. 

“Are you ok?” 

“I am now. Shall we?” he asked as he offers her his arm. 

“You look absolutely stunning, love.”

“Thanks, Liam, you don’t look too shabby yourself,” she smirked.

“Liam? Would you like to tell me where we are going now?” 

He smiled at her, “Not a chance.”

They headed down to the black SUV that awaited. He opened the door for her and helped her inside. He walked around to the driver’s side door and she leaned across to open the door for him.

“These are for you.” He handed her a bouquet of long stemmed roses.

“More flowers Liam?” she blushed.

“I have more than a year to make up for…”

This man is unbelievable. 

After a short drive, they pulled up to his hotel. He helped her out of the car and had the valet park. He opened the door for her and she winked at him. 

“Liam, you’re not wasting anytime huh? Right back to your hotel…”

He chuckled. “I have something very special prepared for you.”

They took the elevator up to the top floor and headed down to the end of the hall where he used a keycard to open up the door. He led her through his suite out to a stunning rooftop where there was a table set for a very romantic candlelit dinner for two.

 She walked over to the rail to take in the view of the city. The view of the Eiffel tower at night in the background was stunning. She was sure that she had never seen a landscape in her entire life more beautiful. 

“Liam, this view is–”

“Absolutely resplendent, breathtaking even. I’ve noticed.” 

She looked over her shoulder to see him staring at her, she shook her head. She could feel her cheeks warming as he stepped up behind her wrapping his arms around her, nipping at her neck. After a few minutes he asked her to join him at the table, pulling out her chair. 

“What a gentleman you are.”

“I try.”

They tucked into a five course meal prepared by a personal chef he hired for the night. Bacon wrapped dates, Gnocchi soup, caesar salad, pan seared sea scallops over shallot herb pasta with fresh steamed veggies and baklava for dessert. When she couldn’t eat another bite he rose from the table and took her back through the suite and down the elevator to the next leg of their proper date. 

They took a long stroll alongside of the Seine River. 

They held hands and slowly walked taking in the sights and sounds of the river. They talked about Karis’ internship and her plans to head back to the states to finish up undergrad before going to law school. 

“There are several amazing options for law school in Cordonia. I know a few people and could easily get you into the school of your choice.”

A cachinnate laugh escaped her. 

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” 

He smiles wide, not answering.  

“Wow, this has been nice. No one has ever put this much thought into a date with me. You did all of this since last night?” 

“Yes, and the night is still young. I’d like to personally thank the clowns who didn’t appreciate you. It has led us to this moment. I want to stay in this moment with you.” 

He turned to her brushing his lips against hers. They strolled for a while longer before Liam checked his watch. 

“We need to head back to the hotel before we are late.”

Liam picks up the pace and Karis giggles. “What the heck Li?

When they get back to the Lobby of the hotel, Liam pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. 

Karis heard him say, “Rhys party of 2.” Then he turned to her. 

“This might be a good time for me to take a picture of you. No one ever believes me when I talk about you. They think I’ve made you up in my mind. I need proof that angels exist. Go stand over by that table and pose for me. This picture will be what I look at to get me through the times when we are apart.”

She smiled at him and complies posing for the picture he snaps with his phone. Just then a man beckons them down a hall and into the spa. She smiled when she realized what is happening. 

“You really listened to me, huh? Are we here because I told you I’d never had a professional massage?”

“Maybe,” he smirked.

This man is too good to be true.

The man escorted them to a room with very dim lights. There were two massage tables set up and soothing music in the background. The man excused himself while Liam and Karis got undressed. She noticed that he hadn’t taken his eye off of her while she disrobed. She looked Liam in the eyes and slowly let her clothes fall away from her body. 

“You’re killing me Karis.”

“You don’t have to look.” she smiles seductively. 

“I keep trying to look away. I can’t. You aren’t wearing a bra,” his mouth falls open as he neatly hangs his clothes on the rack. 

“That top didn’t require one. I wasn’t expecting to get undressed until later.” she smirked. 

When they are both down to just their underwear They both lay across the tables under the sheet as instructed. Two men returned to give them an hour long massage. When they are done both Karis and Liam are relaxed, almost to the point of slumber. They were told not to get up right away. To take their time getting dressed before leaving. 

“Liam, I have no words. Tonight–” 

He interrupts, “Is just getting started.”

When they are dressed they head back up to his suite where they find the jacuzzi has been filled with a bubble bath and there are rose petal scattered. There is soft music playing and two glasses of champagne sit on the counter. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said you were going to spoil me today.” 

They quickly slipped out of their clothes and into to the bubble filled tub. They clinked their glasses together as Liam said, “to fate.”

They both took sips of the champagne then Liam took her glass sitting it to the side.

“Now what?” she smiles.

He grabs her wrist pulling her into his lap.

“Now, I get to bathe you, and then..”

He pulls her in for a lingering kiss and a moan escapes her. After a few minutes he picks her up bridal style and takes her into the shower where they both rinse the bubbles from their bodies. Before they get too lost in each other she stops him.

“Go get my bag? I have something for you.”

He retrieves her bag and leaves her in the restroom to change. After a few minutes she opens the door to a naked Liam with a black gift bag covering his length. His eyes go wide when he drinks in the sight of her in her white lingerie. 

“See something you like, your highness?”

‘Karis, you look.. wow. I just… you look like an angel. My angel.” 

She blushes. “What’s in the bag?”

“Huh, oh yeah, this? It’s for you.” 

He hands her the bag and begins to explain.

“I know that your internship is very important to you. I also know that you are 6 months away from finishing undergrad. I know that you have goals and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I distracted you. So, I know this may sound juvenile but I want there to be no mistake about my intentions. It’s a promise ring. I promise you that I am yours alone, mind, heart and body. When you are done with school, I’m coming to get you and upgrading you to an engagement ring.”

“That’s fair,” she says as she takes the velvet box out of the bag opening it. 

Her eyes go wide. She blinks back tears. He takes the ring from the box and places it on her ring finger.

God, I love this man.

“Do you promise to save yourself for me in every way?”

“Of course I do,” she says in a quiet voice.

“Do you like it?”

“Li, I love it. It’s gorgeous.”

She throws her arms around his neck kissing him deeply. He picks her up, her legs wrap tightly around his waist. He walks her over to the bed, he unclasped her bra before gently laying her down. He ran his strong hands down the sides on her body taking her panties with them. 

“God, you’re a vision.” he said as he kissed her sides lightly.

She squirmed beneath him rubbing his bald head. He moved over kissing her stomach with an open mouth agonizingly slow.

“Oh Liam,” she moaned. 

He propped her legs over his shoulders pulling her to the edge of the bed. He dipped his head kissing her inner thighs while his fingers found her middle. 

“Karis,” his eyes went wide.

“I have never had another man have that effect on me. It’s your fault. I’m not sorry.” 

He slipped 2 fingers inside of her warm drenched center. He slurped her juices as he skillfully teased her clit. She struggled to catch her breath as her body involuntarily spasmed. Her back arched off of the bed under his touch. 

“Open your eyes, I need you to see what this is supposed to look like.”

She opened her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows watching as Liam’s face emerges from down below. His face is covered in her juices and his chin is dripping. He smiles.

“I want you to watch while I make you cum.” 

And that was all it took. A dam broke within her and she came completely undone. All she wanted in that moment was him inside of her. She ached for him. She pulled him in for a passionate, needy kiss. She tasted herself on his lips.

“Liam, I need you.” 

“Anything you want love,” he growled.

She pushed Liam against the wall and grabbed his hardened length. She stroked him, licking him eagerly from base to tip. She swirled her tongue around his tip while pumping his shaft as he tangled his hands in her hair. She descended on his shaft taking as much of him inside her mouth as she could handle while massaging his balls. After a few more times she tried to take more. She gagged and tears flowed from both of her eyes. She  looked up at him, slapping him on the thigh when she could feel him twitching  and the veins on his length throb. 

“Open your eyes. I need you to see what you’ll have waiting for you when you are back in Cordonia.”

He watched as she took him back into her mouth just in time for her to receive his release. She held her head back slightly opening her mouth. He could see how full her mouth was. She licked her lips before swallowing. He pulled her to her feet. He is not sure he has ever been so turned on. He guides her back to the bed taking her nipple in his mouth rolling the other between his fingers. He rotates breast while stroking his length which is now stiff again. 

“Liam! She growls growing impatient. 

“Karis, are you sure you’re ready?”

She nods sheepishly. He lines himself up with her center. She closes her eyes and holds her breath. He rubs his head around her slits. 

“Open your eyes, love. Tell me if it’s too much or if I’m hurting you. We can stop.”

“I will.” she whispers.  

He enters her slowly. It’s just the tip initially. His eyes locked on hers. She gasped and he could see her swallow thickly. He waited for her cue. She nodded and he thrusted carefully deeper inside her warm, wet, tight center. He stayed there giving her walls time to adjust to his massive girth. She let out a breathy groan. 

“Are we ready?” he asked cautiously.

“It burns. Is it supposed to burn?” 

“It’s just your body stretching around me.” 

He rolls his hips a few more times slowly, still watching her, taking his cues from her. She visibly relaxes closing her eyes and rolling her hips under him when she feels more comfortable.

“Does it still burn?”

“No, you feel amazing.”

“I’m glad. You feel unreal and I am going to cum if we don’t change positions. He pulls out and flips her over on all fours. 

“Arch your back for me.” he says as he lines himself up to enter her again. 

He grabs her hips thrusting deeply inside of her and she moans in pleasure. She began to throw her ass back onto him and he knew that if he didn’t slow down it would end prematurely. He slumped over her body one hand finding her swollen clit and the other on her neck. He slowed their pace but it was too late. She came apart and the way her already impossibly tight walls gripped his length dragged him right along with her. 

They collapsed on the bed trying to catch their breath. Both of them spent, bodies covered with sweat. He pulls her close absentmindedly twirling one of her sex tousled locks around his long finger as her head lays on his chest. She listens to his heart pounding until it slows again. After they fell into a comfortable silence, he cleared his throat.

“Was it that bad? Your silence is not very reassuring.” he says in a low husky voice.

“It was– incredible Liam. I’m speechless.”

“Was it….different being with a virgin?” she shyly questioned.

“It was different. But not because you were a virgin. But it was because it was the first time I have ever made love.” 

She was confused by what he said initially. 

“I mean sure, i’ve had sex before. But I have never been in love with anyone before you. So, yes it was different. Life changingly different. I love you Karis.” 

She blushed. 

“Liam, I love you too.”

They laid there in silence for a little while longer. 

“Do you think we could do that again? I want to be on top.”

He smiled seductively, “Do you think you’re ready for that?”

“I guess we will find out.” 

He pulled her on top of him. She was straddling his hips as he caressed her soft skin. They kissed for a long time before she built up the confidence to lower herself onto him. 

When it was over, they both fell into an exhausted slumber as the sun came up outside of the window of the Persian paradise.  

Tagging:

@txemrn​

@pixie88​

@khoicesbyk​

@blackkingliamstan​

@mom2000aggie​

@shannonwrote​

@hopelessromanticmonie​

@fanjessfic​

@dcbbw​

@lucy-268​

@choiceslady​

@twinkleallnight​

@blackkingliamstan​

 @bebepac​

@mainstreetreader​

@romereadingshop​

@romewritingshop​

@lem-20​

@texaskitten30​

@maurine07​

@queenjilian​

​

@secretaryunpaid​

 **I only tag those who ask for it. Let me know if you want added or removed 💖

[mrsbhandari]

Shutter - pt 4

a/n: bonjour!! im here officially with pt 4 to this fic so i hope you like it!! <3

warnings: some language and its kinda suggestive in parts but nothing explicit teehee

words: 3.8k (damn)

tags: @lxdy-starfury, @huntress1024, @anotherbeingsworld, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @chaotic-ramsay-queen, @brycemaloliver

#

Tyril stood alone in his large apartment, eyeing each piece of clothing in his perfectly organized closet with varying levels of hatred. He didn’t want to go too formal and wear a suit, because this was most likely not a fancy date at a fancy restaurant. 

Wait.

Is this really a date?

She hadn’t responded to his final text, making him sweat more than he ever had in his life. He stepped over to the other side of his closet and landed a slender finger on a gray turtleneck sweater. 

“...Acceptable,” he murmured, breaking the silence of the air in his apartment. Quietly opening a drawer, he picked a pair of simple black slacks, crisp and pristine. 

In her own apartment, Naexi called the local pizza joint and placed her order before grabbing a baggy college sweatshirt that slipped off her shoulder and some jeans, keeping her shoes off but her cozy socks on. She definitely considered this a date, but she didn’t want him to know that. After putting on music, she danced a little in her kitchen while checking her phone, eager for any updates from Tyril.

Radio silence. 

A knock sounded, barely audible over the music, so she turned it down and walked to open the door. 

Tyril could barely handle it. She was standing there, collarbone slightly exposed under her sweatshirt, dark hair in a messy braid that draped over her shoulder, and slivers of her thighs were revealed from the rips in her skinny jeans. She was as alluring as she was in the first moment he saw her. 

“C’mon in. I have a coat rack on your left.” There was something interesting about the information, but he couldn’t place his finger on it until he securely hooked his jacket and scarf on the small hooks protruding from the wooden structure. For years, he had been waited on hand and foot in other people’s homes because of his wealth and status, but the simple act of being allowed to take his own shoes off and hang his own coat up was...refreshing. “Do you...like my rack?” 

“I beg your pardon?” He whirled on her with wide eyes, well aware of the double entendre.

“You’re like...smiling at it. It was my brother’s, but he broke it and gave it to me.” 

“Why would he not throw it out?” Tyril’s elegant features twisted into confusion, and he frowned when she seemed to laugh at the memory, believing the sound to be directed at him. 

“He’s awful at fixing things, so he knew that if he gave it to me, I would find a way to fix it.” Still smiling, she ran her eyes down his outfit before stopping on his feet. “Of course you have those fancy socks.” 

His eyes found her mismatched socks, her left foot covered with stripes and the right with polka dots. Face returning to its neutral, he raised a single eyebrow and allowed the left corner of his mouth to turn up into a half smile. “I think yours are much better than mine.” 

She stuck her tongue out and waved her hand, beckoning him to fully enter her cozy apartment. It was vibrant, with dozens of pictures hung on the wall with no real pattern. The walls were an odd crimson, but a combination of the decor and the numerous candles spread throughout the living room and kitchen made the space feel like home. Small piles of books and knick knacks were scattered on every surface he could find, a distinct contrast to his own museum-like home where everything had a place and stayed in it. Smiling to himself, he noticed the three vases of flowers he sent to her positioned on varying tables and bookshelves spread throughout her home. Upon closer inspection of the pictures, he spotted a few of her and Nia; during a party, in front of a castle in what looked like Germany, in graduation caps and gowns as they held up their degrees for the camera. 

She silently watched him from her spot on one of the barstools around the kitchen island, slightly amused at how out of place he looked in the light of her apartment. Everything around her was warm and inviting, but he stood tall and aloof, clothes dreary against the bright backdrop of her prized possessions. He was poised like a man who had never been denied a thing in his life; for some reason, she found herself both wanting to give in to that and to challenge him as much as possible. 

“Are all these pictures ones you’ve taken?” 

“Yup! There’s a few that aren’t mine, but most I’ve chosen from my own portfolio.” 

“They’re beautiful.” Once she didn’t respond for a few moments, he looked up to find her gazing at him, a slight blush on her cheeks and her head cocked. She wore a look similar to the one she had on when they first met, studying and searching for something he had yet to offer. Or maybe he had been offering it the entire time he was here without knowing she had found it. It was both unsettling and pleasant, to be the main focus of her intense and calculating stare. She finally seemed to realize that she hadn’t answered, so she broke her eyes from him and nodded. 

“Thanks.” 

“I like your apartment, as well.”

“I’m sure it’s not what you’re used to.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

There. Something flashed in her eyes as they met his, ten feet away with something connecting them. He had given her a challenge, but unlike in the bookshop, this wasn’t one born from anger; it was something entirely new. Time seemed to slow around them, making the candles flicker almost supernaturally and their heartbeats decelerate. His mouth was dry and although he held her eye contact, he couldn’t help but notice the rest of her body in front of him, enticingly revealed with taunting slits and stretches of the fabric. 

He didn’t know it, but her observant photographer’s eye was watching him as well, taking in the impossibly long stretch of his neck under his turtleneck and how, even in socks, he still carried with him an aura of being the most important person in the room. Here, standing in her apartment, admiring her photos, and staring at her like he wanted to pin her against a wall, Naexi finally realized just how pretty he was. The more she took in the dark hair framing a pale unblemished complexion, complemented by the high arch of his eyebrows and his perfectly positioned nose, the more it hit her that from the moment they met, she had been suppressing the urge to kiss him until she forgot her own name.  Full lips parted as if to speak, but he was cut off by a swift knocking on the door. As if broken from a trance, they both seemed to tense and look towards the sound at the same time, but Tyril beat her to answering. 

“Wait--!” she called, but the door was already open and Tyril was once again proving just how much space he took up as he bent to avoid hitting his head on the frame. 

“Who are you?!” The delivery guy, a short and stout man with a tendency to eat everything in sight as well as be painfully loud about any and everything having to do with everybody else’s business but his own, was staring up at the billionaire with a mix of curiosity and hostility. Tyril seemed taken aback by the shouted question and took a step back, allowing Naexi to push his large form out of the way and offer the man the cash as well as an explanation.

“He’s my date, Threep.” Tyril looked down at her with a smug smile. So this is a date. “Meet Tyril.”

Threep offered the pizza to her before giving him a small wave and a tip of his hat. “Sorry about that. She rarely has dates over, so I wanted to make--”

“Keep the change, bye!” She slammed the door and deadbolted it. “That’s enough of that.” 

“So this is a date, then?” An already high eyebrow raised as he crossed his arms, tight sweater showing off the sculpt of his arms as they flexed. If Naexi tried hard enough, she could pretend that she was only drooling over the pizza that was beginning to burn the skin of her palms. She also pretended that the reason she was gripping the pizza box hard enough to whiten her knuckles and bend the cardboard was because she didn’t want to drop it. It had nothing to do with the fact that she had accidentally shoved him to the area next to the door closest to the wall with very little space in an effort to pay, which was the reason she was standing with her shoulder pressed to his chest as his back rested against the wall, slightly jostling one of her pictures. She also had to pretend that the smell of his cologne wasn't so overpowering in the best way that she felt like passing out was the best way to succumb to it. 

She was doing a whole lot of pretending, but one glance towards the icy blue eyes boring into her soul told her that she wasn’t very convincing. Straightening up and ignoring the wave of heat that washed over her, she scoffed.

“Don’t give me that look, pretty boy. You knew.” It was his turn to blush as he took in the nickname, but his recovery was much quicker. 

“You think I’m pretty?” 

“Do you prefer Boy Billionaire?”

“That wasn’t my question.” He offered an infuriating smile, showing perfectly white teeth. His left incisor was sharper than his right, giving him the boyish look of a mischievous fairy tale creature, ready to swindle a boy with some fake beans for a cow. Judging by the sliver of vulnerability seeping through the flecks of dark blue in his eyes, he rarely showed this side of himself in public. She coughed, breaking the spell he had over her and finally noticing the rapidly cooling pizza box in her hands. 

“I hope you don’t mind pizza. I considered cooking but my landlord likes his buildings not burned to the ground.” She gave a small self-conscious laugh.

“I don’t mind.” His voice was soft and he seemed to be leaning down, face getting closer and closer to hers, lips barely parted and fresh breath brushing against her cheek. His eyes stayed on hers, drawing her in like a shimmering pool with secrets beneath the surface. A million thoughts ran through her head at once, fighting to be heard.

Oh my god, are we gonna kiss right now? Is that what I’m feeling? He’s leaning down, should I try and meet him in the middle? Which way should my head turn? What if it’s not good?! He’s probably kissed hundreds of girls, why the fuck should I be special? He’s so warm. Or is that me? Am I warm? He’s so close, and he’s so beautiful, I can just--

He stopped, his eyes half-lidded and meandering lazily between her lips and her own gaze, wide and worried. The thought of the famous Tyril Starfury doing anything lazily was foreign and suspicious, but she could smell the strawberry of his chapstick on his lips mixing with the smell of his cologne mixing with the smell of his deodorant and it was so mesmerizing that all she could think was kiss me. Then, she realized that he was straightening back up, stealing his head away from her personal space and taking the pizza box in his hands. It was a ruse. A taunt. A tease. 

“Excuse me!” Naexi said, hand on her hip as she followed him into the kitchen, fuming at the innocent look he sent over his shoulder before he opened the pizza box. 

“Yes?” Grabbing a plate from the counter, he paid her no attention while he helped himself to the drawers and cabinets. Despite his faux obliviousness, it was clear that there was a heavy, palpable tension in the air that could be cut with the knife Tyril seemed to be looking for. 

“What are you--” 

“Hm, found it.” He held up a blade and pulled out a fork, marveling at her mismatched cutlery. 

“Have you never had pizza before?” She grabbed her own two slices with her hands before placing two more on another plate for him. He scoffed, a haughty sound that surprisingly sent a shiver down her spine. 

“Of course I have. I just prefer not to make a mess.” He punctuated his statement by tapping the utensils together once before setting to work, cutting up his pizza and placing the cheesy pieces in his mouth. She watched him while she ate her own pizza, grease dripping onto her hands and onto the plate. After finishing her first piece, she looked down at his plate to see that he was only half done with his own. 

“I figured that you would have two people on either side of you while you ate, each with napkins to wipe your face if you ever got dirty.” She assumed a butler’s stance and held up her own napkin, delightfully out of season with “Fun in the Sun!” printed on it. She dropped her voice an octave and swiped her napkin over the empty space next to her as she spoke. “Yes, sir, Mr. Starfury. We can’t have you getting applesauce on your Versace!” Despite himself, Tyril let out a loud laugh, one that was nothing like how he sounded in the interview. This one felt whole and full of genuine emotion. It was an infectious sound, and Naexi found herself smiling like a buffoon at drawing it out of him with her stupid joke. 

“Why applesauce?” he asked, hand covering his mouth as he continued to chuckle. She reached across the island and pulled his wrist down, laying his hand palm up on the cold granite. Her nails slightly bit into his skin, making him flush.

“It's the first baby food I thought of.”

“Well that’s just rude,” he jabbed, a small smile still dancing on his lips to show no real malice toward her. They continued eating, Naexi replaying his laugh in her head as many times as she could. They polished off most of the pizza, leaving just a few slices that she began to wrap in aluminum foil. He rolled up his sleeves and started the water in the sink. A small black hair tie was pulled off his wrist as he positioned his hair into a messy bun with a few pieces falling out to frame his sharp bone structure. Naexi’s brain nearly short-circuited.

“You don’t--”

“I want to.” He nudged her with his elbow, now revealed along with a long forearm. She nearly had to wipe her mouth at the sight. “Contrary to your obvious belief, I do know how to do work.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” With a firm nod, he focused on the steaming water flowing and scrubbed the plates with a strength showcased in the flexing of his arms. He moved with a natural grace that seemed to seep into every move he made, whether he was simply walking down the street or working hard to clean her plates. She went back to her seat at the island and watched his back while he cleaned. The sound of the music was barely audible over the roar of the water, and the combination of sounds lulled her as her eyes roved from the top of his shoulders down to the perfect curve of his ass, delectably sculpted in his slacks. The gravity of just who he was seemed to finally be hitting her. 

She had one of the richest men in America in her kitchen cleaning her dishes. And damn, if he didn’t look good doing it. 

Tyril was acutely aware of her eyes on him, and he was extremely happy that the water was hiding the shaking of his hands from his nerves. He tensed up when he felt her walk behind him, her arm brushing over her backside in a barely innocent gesture as she walked to the fridge, grabbing a soda from the door. 

“You want anything?” Not trusting his voice, he shut the water off and shook his head, giving her a small smile. She took out a bottle of water for him anyway. Eager to continue any sort of conversation with her and extend the date, Tyril racked his brain for something to say. 

“Your brother,” he began, freezing up when her eyes fell on him. “What does he do?” 

“He’s a musician. Last I heard...I think he was on tour in France.” 

“Wow.” She smiled and grabbed a frame off a nearby table, the picture inside featuring a man with brown hair that fell over his forehead as his fingers strummed a black guitar on a stage backed with green lights. 

“His name’s Kade.” Their fingers brushed as she passed him the frame. 

“Is your entire family full of artists? Photographer, musician…”

“Oh, I was adopted.” Looking closer at the picture, Tyril admitted to himself that there were no similarities in how the siblings appeared. “Kade’s always been the wilder one, though.” His eyebrows raised.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You’d be surprised at some of the antics Kade has gotten up to throughout the years. You got any siblings?” She took a sip of her soda and Tyril was briefly distracted by the way her lips wrapped around the lip of the can. 

“Yes, just one. Adrina.”

“Fancy name.”

“Speak for yourself, Naexi.”

“Touche.” She took another sip and Tyril decided to look away lest the night end far differently than he originally thought it would. Her own heart fluttered at the way his tongue molded her name. “You can sit, if you’d like. Or do you feel the need to tower over everyone else in the room?” Gesturing to the open stool next to her, she laughed at his frown. 

“I don’t tower,” he said, but he sat next to her anyway. His long legs bumped against hers, sending shocks to his spine at every contact. Is this how it’s supposed to feel? He studied the way her eyelashes fluttered, the way her lips naturally curved into a smirk, the way her eyes easily communicated an entire array of emotions that she seemed to pick and choose to display from like a catalogue. A strand of black hair fell against her cheekbone and he moved it behind her ear without thinking. They were close, getting closer, both gazes dropping to the lips nearly physically connected, already linked by the soft breaths shared. Time was moving slow, too slow, and Tyril ached for the clock to keep ticking, to keep bringing him closer and closer to feeling Naexi’s lips on his, to feeling the perpetual heat surrounding her to engulf him with it. After what seemed like an eternity, their lips were just a centimeter away from each other. His breath tickled her cheek as he whispered.

“May I kiss you?”

[sticks-and-stone]

Potts Preserve

September 21, 2019 - September 22, 2019

This was my first time camping since February when I went with my roommate and the dog we had at the time. Before that it was just camping with my father as a kid or drunk with my friends in high school (trips I almost don’t remember at all). So this trip was a pretty big deal with very few expectations or preparedness. I wanted to find a hobby that would not cost much, but would require significant planning and time out of my life before, during, and after. So camping seemed like a good fit. I decided to start planning monthly trips. So this was the first one!

When I first decided to go on this trip, I had next to no supplies. I wanted to go with whatever I had or could improvise as a way to get started on a list of things I wanted to add to my kit. What better way to figure out what I needed than to realize it in the moment! 

This trip was only going to be a quick overnight so that in the event that we realized we had too little, we wouldn’t be stuck out there for days. I found a site that was owned by the Southwest Florida Water Management District and was free to use with a reservation. So I booked the site and called up an old friend, Jenna. Jenna and I did a lot of drunk camping together in high school and she had a foundation of camping with her own father as a child, so I knew she would be right for the job. She and I had also gone a long period of time without hanging out, so it was a good opportunity for us to catch up! 

When we began planning this trip, I had a tent, and some other small stuff, but not a whole lot of anything else. We borrowed a cooler from my roommate, a chair from my parents, and just bought beer on our way out to the campsite.

I wanted to get a good night’s sleep before getting up midmorning on Saturday to meet Jenna and go, but I ended up staying up late. Like a child before her first trip to Disney World, I was restless, excited, and hyperactive. When I woke up (too early) the next day, all that excitement was squashed when I realized I had started my period. I was worried this would happen, but I was hoping my Day One would be on Sunday, but alas, I was going to have to go camping on my period. And not just any camping trip, a camping trip that I wasn’t totally sure I was prepared for. As it turned out, the portable toilets were close and clean enough for me. YAY!

Jenna showed up exactly on time - I really have to give her props for that. She helped me load up the car and then we took off! We stopped at my parents' house (they were out of town) for a little firewood and one of their camping chairs (Jenna did not have one) and also at a gas station for beer and snacks. Then we were on the road for real; it was about midday.

The drive down was quicker and easier than we expected. After not seeing each other  for a few years, we had PLENTY to talk about and catch up on. She told me about all of her drama, I told her about all of mine. It was lovely. We arrived at the campground without getting lost or even a little turned around at all. There were about 4 other groups there already set up and as it was late afternoon on a Saturday, everyone seemed to be pretty settled in. 

We found our spot. Unlike the other spots that people had set up around us, we did not have a fire pit, a picnic table, or a grill. Everyone else seemed to have all three. We didn’t mind and we found a nice flat place to lay our tent out. We found out later that what we chose was not a spot at all and that we were not even supposed to be back there. 

We got the tent set up and I began to work on the air pump that I had borrowed from my roommate. I needed to strip the wire so that I could split it and plug it into the car battery that dad gave me to run the fan. We had no other form of electricity and no other way to pump the air mattresses up. I broke it. I ended up strippping the wires too much and the whole contraption became non-functional. We were only there for one night, though, and what’s sleeping on the ground other than the authenticity of a camping trip? 

From the time of arrival until just before dusk (about 3 hours) we thought it would be nice to open up the tent to allow the breeze and light to enter it. Well, neither did and what did enter our tent was about 10,000 love bugs. So I went in there with our one bottle of bug spray and closed myself in. I held my breath and sprayed the shit out of the aerosol canister until I was sure everyone was dead and I could not hold my breath any longer. 

To give the homemade bug bomb a chance to work, we decided to explore the area and go on a hike. We made it about a mile away from camp and it started raining. The trail seemed to come to a dead end so we just turned around and went back. I have a terrible sense of direction and would have honestly gotten completely lost if it hadn’t been for Jenna to guide us. 

We got back to camp after our hike and I checked on our tent - no more living love bugs, but piles of dead ones on the ground. It was gross. I got Jenna and the broom and we got rid of as many of the dead bodies as we could. We would shake the rest out the next day when we packed up to leave. 

We sat around the fire and played the guitar for a bit when suddenly I realized that we were going to get bored. We had been drinking beer since we arrived and we'd been going through it pretty fast. I never really thought about how to pass the time.  

I went walking around looking for firewood. I had nothing to chop it with or nothing to cut the large limbs, but I could use leverage and my body weight for most of the work I needed to do. 

The entire time we were there, I made sure to keep a list of all the things I thought about having that we didn’t have. The first being string, the next, an air pump that plugged into the car. Then a sponge. I started to realize that we had enough to survive in the woods, but we did not have enough to THRIVE. This trip was rough supplies-wise, but we made do. Thankfully we brought enough beer to ward off TOO much boredom.

As the sun went down and the alcohol made its way further into our bloodstreams, we decided we were hungry and wanted to eat the food I had brought for us. What I had brought was really simple. It was two pre-made PB&J sandwiches, pre-made mac and cheese, and PB&J crackers. 

Dinner was a disaster. The sandwiches I made got soggy from the ice melting and the container failing to do its job in the cooler. The mac and cheese was attempted cold, but then it was decided that we would put it in the pot in the fire and see if we could heat it up. That actually worked out pretty well - but was all we had. Luckily, Jenna came armed with hummus and crackers and had bought some beef jerky at the gas station. 

We went to sleep soon after dinner and made sure we got nice and drunk first because we had forgotten that we were sleeping on the ground that night. After all the alcohol, I was ready to crash. My body temp was high though so I put on the fan and slept on top of my blankets. 

About halfway through the night I was woken up by the feeling of my bones turning to ice and cracking. I was violently shivering in my bed and wasn’t sure my toes were still attached to my body. I had to pee too. So I stood up clumsily in our little tent and put on my shoes. I looked over and Jenna was fast asleep but now wearing more clothes than she went to bed in - I guess she woke up the same way I did.  

I walked to the bathroom and peed. I took comfort in the smelly plastic bin as it seemed to have held on to the day’s heat and trapped it inside. I was suddenly disgusted with myself for enjoying a port a potty, so I walked back to the tent. 

When I got inside I turned off the fan. I looked through my suitcase - nothing but more short sleeved shirts and shorts. I took my shoes off but left my socks on and covered them with a second pair. I took the folded king-sized sheet off of my deflated twin size mattress and used that as extra cover in addition to the small throw blanket I had.  I was able to make it a few more hours like that until the urge to pee woke me up again. 

This time, it seemed warmer outside the tent so I took my double pair of socks off and slipped on flip flops. Jenna was still asleep so I stumbled out of the tent toward the bathroom. I handled my business and came back to the tent - this time, no lingering in the port-a-potty for warmth. 

As I approached the site, I saw Jenna moving around outside the tent with her flashlight. I assumed she was doing the same thing I was - taking a midnight pee - but as I got closer I could see that she was in fact setting up the fire. As I got close enough I asked if she was trying to warm up so she could sleep, and she looked at me confused and said “No, this is today’s fire, it’s 6:30”. I was shocked and confused, but proud that we had made it to morning.

We had no breakfast. So we drank more beer. We were out of water, so I decided it was time to leave. We packed up quickly and cleaned the tent and tarps and then we were on our way out. 

As we tried to exit the gate, our code wouldn’t work and we had to wait for a forest cop to show up and let us out. We probably waited an hour or so, but when he finally did arrive, he was super nice and as it turns out, from Jacksonville! We chatted with him for a while until a car pulled up behind us. We were finally on our way home! 

The ride home was a bit different than the ride there. We double and triple checked my list and talked about all of the things we HAD to get for next time, which things I already had at home, and which things needed to be purchased. Overall the trip was fine, we decided, but we could do WAY better. 

Observations: 

SO MANY LOVE BUGS - they literally covered everything 

We needed to pack the car more strategically - we had to pull everything out to get to the tent and table that we needed to set up first 

We needed rope/string

More stakes for the tarp and the tent would not be a bad idea 

A table or some platform to unpack on would be handy 

Our air pump broke - we needed one that plugged into the car. 

It's super important to keep the tent closed completely. 

We needed a shovel to dig out the fire pit 

We needed more lights around the site - the fire was not enough 

Citronella candles would not be a bad idea either 

Should have brought extra bug spray

We didn’t have much to do beyond sitting and drinking beer. We vowed to bring at least some books and crafts for next time. I want to learn to whittle. 

I needed to stay more organized with the supplies as we unpacked. Things got messy.

Get Outside, 

Stone.

[bbbrats]

baby, i don’t feel so good

pairing: idol!jungkook x reader

genre: domestic au, whole lotta fluff, tiny bit of angst, established relationship

rating: 16+

warnings: nothing too bad really, jk is mad at you, cuddling, throwing up, so much fucking domesticated fluff, jk is a really good boyfriend, but no jk is like really fucking mad tho, SO MUCH FLUFF

summary: you didn’t mean to miss the award show, but by god you were sick as hell. and you didn’t mean to miss all of his phone calls and texts, but how were you to reply when you were passed out in the bed with a headache and fever?

A/N: this is just a slight drabble since I got this idea last night. i guess this is a boyfriend!au drabble series cause i’ll be doing the other members as well so hehe ! (this also ended up being longer than I expected so im so sorry)

You were passed out in the sheets, the feeling of sweat sticking to your skin along with your soaked clothes and wet spots on the pillows from your face. Your very flushed and clammy face.

You were so fucking sick.

Eyelids feeling heavy, you threw yourself out of the bed and rushed to the bathroom on wobbly legs, tears falling out of your eyes as you threw up just barely making it to the toilet, the gross and chunky substance coating the pristine white and covering your tongue in bile, only making your stomach clench harder and you sobbed as you felt another wave come up and gush right out of you. This was not fun.

At the moment you didn’t even have the energy to stand, until you heard the front door opening and then slamming shut with a loud BANG, your heart lurching in your chest and stomach tightening at the loud noise. “Y/N!”, you heard your voice being yelled from the living room and connected kitchen. It was your boyfriend, Jungkook. He sounded pissed, and you stood immediately causing a wave of dizziness to slap you across the face hard, yet you pushed through, navigating your way through the poorly lit bedroom and out into the hallway, the edges of your vision blurring as you stepped slowly down the stairs, clutching the railing for dear life.

As you stepped into view, Jungkook’s hands balled and unballed, and you flinched as you felt his fury seeping off him in waves. You had never seen him this mad before, and you were wondering what could’ve possibly happened that could make your sweet bunny boy so furious- oh.

You fucked up.

You knew you fucked up as soon as the thought clicked. 

“The fucking award show”, your mind screamed.

Instantly you started spewing apologies, trying to explain to him why you missed such an important night but he cut you off with a firm snap of your name, and you shut up instantly, legs weakening when he inhales and stares straight into your eyes, his mouth twisted in a angry frown, “Not only did you miss one of the most important nights for me, you didn’t even answer your fucking phone, Y/n!”, he snapped, a scoff leaving his lips when he watched you sway slightly at the brutal tone, “I needed you there for me! That’s your fucking job, in case you didn’t know; to be by my side when I need you”, and your mouth opened and closed repeatedly in fear and guilt. 

In all the four years you’ve been with Jungkook, you’d never missed a thing, and never seen him this pissed off. It hurt you to know that you did this, remembering your voice promising him no matter what that you’d make it. And even when you made that promise a week ago, you were sick. Tears welled in your eyes as he stared at you, unmoving and unwavering in his complete anger. It scared you when Jungkook was mad in general, but at you, it was almost unbearable.

“Can you even answer me”, he screeched, his voice suddenly loud and primal, and it shook you, your mind screaming in pain and the edges of your vision blurring once again. You felt your knees shake, and you whimpered, bringing a hand up to your ear that particularly felt damaged, and you heard the faint laugh come from Jungkook. It was a humorless laugh that struck fear into your heart as you tried not to utterly drop to the floor in a heap of utter pain. 

Everything hurt. Your knees felt weak, your legs felt wobbly, your head was pounding, your stomach churned and twisted until you were doubled over, tears streaming down your face and your lower lip trembling. Not only did you feel like shit on the outside, now you felt like shit on the inside for abandoning Jungkook. 

Across the room, this all looked like you were just crying in disappointment, and it hurt Jungkook but he was just so angry, and he couldn’t help what he said next, “Get away from me, Y/n. Just go, I don’t wanna see your face right now. I need to calm down”, he whispered, his head turning away from your figure. 

The words mixed with the blood rushing in your skull caused you to sob out loud, your body protesting as it whipped around so you could run up the stairs and throw up, but you barely made it to the fourth step before your legs crumpled and you went tumbling back down the stairs. 

Jungkook’s head whipped around in shock as he watched you try to make one final attempt to pull yourself back together and stand up, the edges of your vision blurring one last time before everything went dark and you heard a voice yelling your name, and then nothing.

In horror, Jungkook watched your body limp and hit the table next to you before crumpling to the ground, a slight choking noise coming from you and he rushed over, turning you roughly onto your side to keep you from choking to death. Just as he though, puke started to dribble out of your mouth, and once he was sure ou were finished, he cleaned you up with paper towels and carried you upstairs to the bedroom, his heart tangled in heaps when he realized what was really wrong with you. 

You were so sick. 

His eyes traveled from the sweat damp sheets to the strewn about covers with used tissue and cough drop wrappers, to the faint smell of vomit coming from the bathroom. His gaze then dropped to your limp figure in his arms and his eyes watered, his heart breaking at remembering everything he said to you in his stupid fucking tantrum. 

No wonder you didn’t come. You never missed something, and you were obviously sick as hell. He placed a kiss on your forehead and laid you gently on the couch in the living room before running back upstairs and changing the bed sheets, cleaning up the wrappers and tissue, cleaning the bathroom, and running you a bath in the newly disinfected bath tub, remembering to toss a vanilla scented bath bomb in and going to your shared closet to pick out clothes. 

He choose his favorite basketball shorts and a pair of boxers, choosing to leave his torso uncovered because he knew how much you loved to be held against his warm body, and opting to pick out one of his white tees, some fuzzy socks, and a pair of panties for you. 

After he prepared the bathroom and placed fresh towels near the bathtub, he crept downstairs to see you still passed out, so he walked over and picked you up into his arms again, carrying you back up the stairs and into the bathroom, before stripping you and himself and getting into the tub with you between his legs, your back flush against his chest as he placed butterfly kisses against your skin to wake you up.

Eventually it worked, your form turning in his arms and his heart shattered at the teary eyes staring up at him, “J-Jungoo”, you murmured, your head obviously still swimming and he hushed you, kissing your lips in four quick pecks to silence you further before beginning to wash the front of your body, and then gently sitting you up to wash your back.

After he washed himself and rinsed you both, he pat himself dry and got dressed, and then did the same to you, only deciding to apply vanilla body oil to your skin to keep you soothed, knowing that you loved the smell of it. Once you were rubbed down and dressed, he lifted you into his arms again and walked you over to the bed, sitting you gently in the middle of it before going back to straighten the bathroom back up a bit and hitting the light switch on his way out. 

He sent a boyish smile to your confused features, the flash of his bunny teeth instantly put relief on your face, and your eyes softened and lips pulled into a weaker one. 

Just as he blew a kiss at you, and you caught it of course, the doorbell rang and Jungkook winked before going to answer it. Meanwhile you dug yourself further into the fresh sheets, the cotton rubbing against your bare legs as you let your eye lids slip shut, awaiting for your boyfriend to return. 

Once he did, he came back with three pizza boxes, two bottles of 2 liter Coca Cola, and a bag full of sour gummy candies, chocolate, and other delicacies that you loved. Your eyes immediately looked up at his suggestive face and you laughed softly, lifting your hands and making grabby gestures to get him to come to you, and he did, setting things up and turning the television on Netflix. 

After three Marvel movies, a horror movie, and two comedies, the clock was ticking on 2:45AM, and you were knocked out sleep on the pillows next to him, curled into his side as he stacked up the trash and put it on the floor to toss away in a few hours. Turning the TV off, he pulls the covers up over you both and pulls you against his bare chest, hearing a satisfied sigh leave your lips and he smiled, his heart doing flips as he tried to get to sleep next to the love of his life.

He loved you so much.

[borkingbarnes]

50 questions!

Thank you for the tag @buckyland! You are literally the softest angel and I have mega amounts of love for you. 💗💗

Putting a Keep Reading bar bc its a lil long aha 

1. What is the colour of your hairbrush?  Black and red. Though I can't really brush my hair bc brushed out wavy/curly hair = hella frizz :/ 

2. Name a food you never ever eat.  Olives, bell peppers, Brussel sprouts. 

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? Too cold. Always too cold, considering I live in a barren wasteland. 

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?  jamming out in the shower lol 

5. What is your favourite candy bar?  Hershey’s cookies and cream 😍

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports game?  I think a professional hockey game when I was in elementary?? 

7. What is the last thing you said out loud? “what the fuck is this shit?” (directed at my final exam review) 

8. What is your favourite ice cream?  Vanilla or oreo! 

9. What was the last thing you had to drink?  Cofy. 💜

10. Do you like your wallet?  Yes!! It was a gift from Christmas! 

11. What was the last thing you ate?  a singular sunflower seed that was on my desk lol

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?  No, I’m not a huge fan of buying clothes if I can't try it on first. However... this hoodie from UO is speaking to me but its so. frickin. expensive.  

13. The last sporting event you watched?  I think a men’s semi-finals volleyball match against UBC that hosted at my uni years ago? I had a huge crush on our setter at the time LOL 

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?  butter or caramel.

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to?  A text to my bf ranting about how the government will only allow me to get 1 month of BC at a time (before you could get 3-6 months worth at a time), which is fucked bc it just means more trips out?? 

16. Ever go camping?  Yes!! Hoping to go this summer if everything clears up by then.

17. Do you take vitamins?  Occasionally, if I open the cupboard and see it. But only the fruity chewable ones bc they're yummy lol 

18. Do you go to church every Sunday?  No. But my one of my friends does and he was supposed to send in a video of him playing some song for his church’s Easter service bc he’s got a degree in music and just overall v good at his instrument. His brother streaked through in the background of said video. He still sent it in. The church played it for the service. akljsldkj 

19. Do you have a tan?  No, she long faded :(

20. Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza?  yes. 100% yes. gimme some of that good good sweet and sour pork ANY day. 

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw?  I don't drink soda lol 

22. What color socks do you usually wear?  Those multicoloured Puma ones which everyone has that you can get in a bundle from Costco are all I wear 😂

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit?  I usually go like 5 km/h above?

24. What terrifies you?  Failure, not getting anywhere in life, being trapped, losing my mom and grandparents, got reaching my goals. 

25. Look to your left, what do you see?  The disarray that is my unmade bed 

26. What chore do you hate most?  Dishes. 

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?  lol its terrible but they could literally be saying anything but my brain will immediately go “DEOWN UNDAHH” 

28. What’s your favorite soda?  I don't like soda, but will on a rare occasion take a sip of coke or sprite if my bf is drinking it. 

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive?  Drive-thru 100%. I will avoid humans as much as possible lol that and im too lazy to get out of the car most of the time 😅

30. What is your favourite number?  8, 38! 

31. Who’s the last person you talked to?  Like face to face? I guess me mum? 

32. Favourite cut of beef?  T-bone 😍

33. Last song you listened to?  Atlas - Luke Christopher (very fitting for the current times if you ask me, and just overall one of my all time favs.) 

34. Last book you read?  The mind-numbing bullshit that is my textbook. 

35. Favourite day of the week?  Saturdaze

36. Can you say the alphabet backwards?  No. I have 1 braincell, and she is not able to complete such an extensive task. 

37. How do you like your coffee?  A good old double double if hot, but I quite enjoy a vanilla iced cofy.

38. Favourite pair of shoes?  My black Nike running shoes in general, my black Timberlands in winter, and my black suede Chelsea boots for a more dressy look! (I enjoy wearing the colour black if you couldn't tell😂)

39. The time you normally get up?  If I don't have any obligations: 10:30-11:30 😅

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? Give me ALL the sunsets. 

41. How many blankets on your bed?  3. I am a cold, cold child. 

42. Describe your kitchen plates.  White, square ones? 

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment?  Littered with papers and writing utensils because my brother does his homework at the dinner table

44. Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink?  Caesars with Walter’s caesar mix 😍😍 Daiquiris are also yum! AND PINA COLADAS. 

45. Do you play cards? I play uno almost everyday on my phone LOL (hit me up if you wanna play together!!)

46. What colour is your car?  Gray 

47. Can you change a tire?  I don’t think so? Though I know the basics? 

48. Your favourite state? Tranquil. At peace. Basically how I feel when I’m floating on my back in water with the sun on my face.  If its US states then I haven't been too too many, but I absolutely adored Florida because of DisneyWorld. I also have some really good memories in Illinois 

49. Favourite job you’ve had?  I still have this job but a vet assistant! 

50. How did you get your biggest scar?  lol. ha im embarrassed. buckle up and prepare for story time. it’s kinda gory(?) so don't read if you don't like that stuff!! 

Box jumps in high school (we had a proper actual gym with weights and machines and stuff). I took my glasses off (idk why I decided to workout in glasses instead of contacts?) bc they kept sliding down every time I jumped. Mind you my prescription is like -5.50 and I have astigmatism so my depth perception is like non-existent without some sort of corrective lenses. But my half blind, non depth perceiving ass was like eh how bad can it be? Well it was VERY bad!! I completely misjudged how high I needed to jump (the box was on the highest side) and basically slammed my shin against the edge of the box (its wooden and very solid!!) and the weight of the rest of my body plus gravity caused my shin to dig and scrape against the edge of the box v deep on the way down. Idk if it was bone or what but there was definitely something flat and whitish in the deepest part?? Nothing broken luckily, but it hurt like a bitch. Found a first aid kit and bandaged myself up and limped around the whole day. Years later, there's still a longish scar and it’s indented along it. 

I also have a fading but quite large scar from road burn when my friend decided it would be funny to push me super fast just out of the blue while I was sitting on a skateboard and not stop me when I started teetering. I was wearing shorts and basically scraped my thigh and part of my butt against concrete. It was painful as fuck and didnt heal for a long time bc it was such a large surface area. I was P I S S E D. 

lol thanks for reading if you’ve gotten this far! Tagging some beautiful peeps if y'all want: @evanstar @fightmewiatch @jalapenobarnes @buckthegrump @tropicalcap @sgtjbuccky 

[shy-violet-soul]

The Mini Messenger Service

Characters: Alpha! Bucky Barnes x Omega!F-Reader, Assorted Avengers Summary: The Pint-Sized Protection Squad calls Bucky on a mission with a very important message. Warnings: fluffity fluffy fluff.  A bad language word. A/N: This is a part-2 to a bit of fluff I wrote, “The Pint-Sized Protection Squad” - I got that idea from a reblog by @ursulaismymiddlename. I wrote this when reasonably brain-dead after a very, very tiring day at work. This is also my first attempt at typing withOUT a double-space after a period. Yes, I’m old. Yes, it almost killed me.

Word count: 1,800-ish

This is a work of fiction based upon characters created and owned by Marvel.  My work is not to be published elsewhere without my written consent.

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. When you approached him and said you were ready to talk about having pups, he said ‘no’. The idea of his former Winter-Soldier-assassin self being responsible for something so helpless and innocent gave him dry heaves.

“But, Bucky...you are the love of my life. You make me feel so safe, so loved and protected.  All I want in the world is to know that a part of our love grew into a precious gift, feel your baby move inside me, see a face that is both you and me.” Then, you did it again - innocently blinking y/e/c eyes with one hand on his chest, right over his heart. “Just picture it, Bucky. A little boy you teach how to ride a bike. A little girl you can teach to dance.” Next, you went for the kill. “I can just picture you rocking them to sleep, humming to them. I know it’ll be love at first sight, just like it was for us.”

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. After several medical screenings by Bruce; and with Dr. Cho; and with Shuri...counseling with Sam...and encouragement that eventually turned into threats of a beating from Steve after the three-hundredth-time he tried to express his doubts, Bucky told you he was ready, too. No one should have been surprised when you were pregnant two months later. While you picked out baby clothes, toys, and nursery furniture with Wanda and Nat, Steve and Sam argued over godfathership. Tony gloried in the opportunity to geek out to his heart’s content as he outfitted the nursery in state-of-the-art security and bio-monitoring tech. Baby Barnes wouldn’t even be yawning without every Avenger knowing. Meanwhile, Bucky quietly hyperventilated in the bathroom, trying hard to hide his throat-closing anxiety.

Watching her made it easier. Under Bruce’s vigilant care, they knew by week 8 that you were carrying twins. By week 12, your belly started to show a little bump, and your squeals of excitement made him smile as you rubbed the teeny curve. Basking in your joy and reassurance, Bucky began to relax a bit as he became comfortable holding you again and caressing your bump.

That didn’t stop him from having Tony plant microscopic bio-sensors into your socks so he could monitor yours and the babies heart rates.

What surprised both of you was the daycare pups. Bucky had been busy fixing a loose floorboard to prevent little pup and Omega feet from tripping while you did story time. Lightning Bolt the Alpha had raised his hand.

“Are you sick, Miss Barnes?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Are you sure?” Little ‘Steve’ wanted to know.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m not sick. Why do you ask?”

“You smell different.” Truth. Your normal scent of geranium and lemon had clear notes of lavender and vanilla threading through it now. The aroma was so intoxicating that Bucky had to stop himself from scenting you on the regular.

“I know what it is!” Freckles proclaimed. “She’s gotta pup.  My momma smells like pep’mint, and when she was growing my brothers, she smelled like Italian food. She said it was ‘cause her scent was all tangled with my baby brothers while they was growing!” Seven pairs of eyes stared at you expectantly; Bucky bit back a chuckle as your mouth opened and closed a couple of times.

“Well...yes. Mr. Barnes and I are going to have two pups.” Now, the pairs of eyes swiveled to Bucky. Warrior Princess sighed as she looked to her fellow Alphas.

“We gotta start workin’ on his mean face if he’s gonna have pups.”

Six months passed in a blur, and the serum he’d passed to the pups had them ready to deliver sooner than a regular pregnancy. Bucky loved watching you waddle your way around the house. The nursery was ready - two of everything, one for a boy and one for a girl, all ready to go. Your favorite pastime of late saw you both curled up in your nest as Bucky sang and sweet talked to the pups. In response, they stretched and rolled and kicked, some of their movements making you groan.

“These babies have taken up all the room! They need to come out so you can carry them for a while!” you grumbled good-naturedly. In those warm, safe moments, even Bucky thought he was ready.

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. When he got called out for a planet-saving-critical mission, his declaration that you could both just move to Asgard with Thor before the planet blew up seemed perfectly logical.

After Steve, Tony, Natasha, and Fury all reassured him this mission was critical but in and out quick, Bucky reluctantly agreed to go. The fact that he may have pulled the little Alphas aside and carefully trained them how to contact him on a stolen Stark phone in an emergency was pure conjecture.

The mission was, indeed, in and out quick. The dying adrenaline buzzed pleasantly in his veins; it had been good to get out for a little while, Bucky couldn’t deny.  Tony prattled on about the theme for this mission’s after party while Steve tapped away on a laptop - punk didn’t dare slack on reports, Bucky smiled to himself. Suddenly, static crackled to life in the quinjet’s speakers, a scatter of voices and noise pouring in.

“Hello?”

Frozen for a moment, everyone’s gazes swiveled towards Tony.

“Stark, what’s up with FRIDAY?”

“That’s not FRIDAY.  Dear, you with me?”

“Right here, boss.”

“Uh - Mister Alpha, sir?  I mean, Alpha Barnes - uh - I don’t think it’s working.” Lightning Bolt’s voice suddenly rang in clear as day, and Bucky shot to his feet.

“Give it to me, you turkey!  I know how to do it!” A scuffle was heard before Warrior Princess’s voice chimed in.  “This is Warrior Princess, reporting for duty, Mister Alpha Barnes, sir.”

“What the hell is this?” Tony barked out.

“Ohhhh! Someone said a bad word!” she hushed to someone near her. A choir of childish voices clamored in the background, but one single sound pierced through straight to Bucky’s heart - your cry of pain.

“Mister Alpha, sir, I think the pups are hurting Missus Barnes.”

All eyes turned to Bucky.

“Who is this?” Tony demanded. But someone clamoring for the speaker thwarted her attention. “FRIDAY?”

“On it, boss.” In the next instant, a screen projected into the quinjet, showing Warrior Princess’ chin and part of ‘Steve’s’ face as the children’s voices crackled through the speakers. “It appears to be a female Alpha, five years of age. Name, Elaine Freedman, referred to as Warrior Princess by Sergeant Barnes.”

“Elaine!” Bucky barked, alarm chugging through him like a fire hose. Suddenly, every phone in the jet chirped, and a separate screen blinked to life with your picture and a growing row of squiggly lines Bucky couldn’t decipher.

“She’s in labor,” Bruce intoned. Immediately, the quinjet engines hummed into high gear as Natasha banked to the right.  

“No, she’s not,” Bucky stammered.

“Not sure you get a say, Tin Man.”

“Tony, not the time,” Steve warned as he strode to put a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine, Bucky.  We were already near the area, we’ll be there lickety-split.” A pudgy hand smeared across the screen before a set of tiny Iron Man sneakers came into view.  

“Mister Barnes! I think your pups are done in the oven. Should I call my grandma?”

“You don’t call a grandma, Micah!”

“We called her when my sister was borned, and she came right over and took care of me and the dog and everything.”

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. The fact that he was currently sitting with his head between his knees, hyperventilating like it was his job, was hardly noteworthy.

“Three minutes, Barnes,” Natasha called over her shoulder.  

“Grandmas are where it’s at. My grandma would have this handled. You’d roll up to find your Omega all fine, those pups sleeping, and a casserole on the table,” Sam offered up with a grin. The plastic water bottle in his hand crickled sadly as Bucky unknowingly crushed it, fear strangling him as the jet banked again. The daycare pups were a veritable chorus as they each shouted over who they should call.

“What about the Ghostbusters?  I think you can call them, too.”

“What’s a Ghostbuster?”

“I dunno, my dad likes that movie. Just the first one, though.”

“No, no, no. Mister Barnes said to call him, and that we just needed to be strong for Missus Barnes.”

“Yeah!  Like ‘Army Strong’ on the commercial.  Maybe we should call the Army!”

A sharp, agonizing cry from you blared across the line just as Natasha started to open the ramp. Bucky didn’t even hesitate, but dove through the narrow opening like it was an Olympic event.

“Bucky!  You son-of-a-bitch, you don’t just jump out of an airplane!” Steve roared.

“Language,” droned Tony blandly, his faceplate snapping into place as he followed Steve out the quinjet to the unsuspecting passel of pups below. As Sam rolled his eyes, preparing to follow, another little voice piped up an idea.

“I know! I know! Call the Avengers!”

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. The minor issue of the front door now being more of a Bucky-shaped hole was irrelevant. The Iron Man-esque crater in the wall was hardly worth mentioning.  

Looking back, your pint-sized protection squad had done a fabulous job.  Little Red, or - funnily enough - Natalie, and Heidi (aka Dimples) had been busily stroking your hair and happily churning candy-scented calming pheromones while Sera ‘Freckles’ the Beta covered you with every doll blanket she could find. Lightning ‘Chad’ Bolt, Steve’s doppelganger, Jeremy, Micah, and Elaine were deeply involved in trying to decide who else to call. Surprisingly, the room was reasonably calm, the utlra-sweet pup scents more excited than anything.

Captain America and Iron Man had quickly been mobbed by the excited children, allowing Bucky and Bruce to scuttle you aboard the quinjet and to the safety and medical expertise of the Compound. Sam had gleefully stayed behind to referee Steve, Tony, and the pups. He may have taken a photo or video or two.  Maybe.

Bruce later hypothesized that, along with speeding up the pregnancy, Bucky’s serum also hastened the labor. Barely two hours after landing, Grant Howard Barnes shouted his way into the world. Rebecca Margaret joined him three minutes later. Tony burst in the room in the middle of it all, and passed out stone cold. Sam absolutely did sneak a photo of the billionaire unconscious on the floor.

Hours later, curled up in the nest that had mysteriously been transported from your bed to the medical wing of the Compound, you smiled tiredly at the sight before you.  Your Alpha sat rocking your pups, humming quietly to them as their tiny faces snuggled into his neck.  As Bucky felt them, safe and warm and here against him, saw you so thoroughly happy in the soft light of the room, his heart kicked hard.

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man.  He knew he’d fallen in love at first sight with these two precious pups. Just like he had with you.

[d20owlbear-deactivated]

The Mathematical Improbability of Reaching the Stars Ch 2

By cassieoh and D20Owlbear

Ch Summary And finally, the twain shall meet. We learn more of Crowley and Aziraphale and something more of Eve and Doctor Haistwell.

The walk across campus was a pleasant one when he wasn’t rushing to avoid being late or hauling far too many books or dodging undergraduates. He paused to adjust his satchel, hiking the aging leather strap higher on his shoulder; it liked to slip down as he walked, especially when he was distracted by something (as he often was). He patted the side of the bag, checking that everything he expected to feel was there and then started up the short flight of stairs that lead towards the courtyard in front of the Athenaeum, pulling out his phone as he went.

He clicked the little button on the side to check the time, suddenly nervous that he’d forgotten something and was actually terribly late to an appointment. It was an old fear, one he struggled with often, but not one he needed to worry about just now as he had nearly a full half-hour before his next lecture. 

Just as he moved to slip the phone in his pocket there was a little flash of bright green. He paused, turning the phone so he could see the screen. The little, flashing LED light lit up again, indicating he had a notification. Paranoid about disturbing a class or drawing attention to himself, he usually kept his phone on silent at all times (and triple checked it hadn’t somehow changed status spontaneously), so the light was all he used to mark that he ought to pay attention. The thing was Aziraphale rarely got notifications; his most-used programs were offline games like sudoku or word puzzles and reading apps (though he still greatly preferred the feel of something old and real in his hands). Really, the only ones that deviated from that were the food delivery apps (for when he was too busy to go out to eat, of course). He also rarely got messages at all, so it took him a few moments to place why the light might be green instead of blue as usual.

“Oh,” Aziraphale murmured to himself, surprised at the very notion of being messaged on his phone, “Oh!” He exclaimed half a second later and pulled the phone up close to his face, scrambling to turn on the screen again without dropping it as the phone had nearly jumped from his hands when he remembered he’d sent a reply to the silly astronomy pun from 2am! His tutor!

[Anthony Thursday 2:13 am] Your eyes are like black holes, I can’t seem to escape them. But that’s alright, because I like astronomy.

[Azira Thursday 7:56 am] Oh very good! I’m looking for help with astronomy!

[Anthony Thursday 9:28 am] I’m always happy to lend a *helping hand*, if you know what I mean. ;)

Aziraphale grinned at the last message, now certain that he hadn’t been overconfident when he told Doctor Haistwell that he’d found a tutor. This Anthony fellow certainly seemed like he was chuffed about it. Sure, he’d used asterisks incorrectly and Aziraphale wasn’t sure what he’d been trying to accomplish with them in the first place, but that was alright, Aziraphale wasn’t in need of grammar or sentence structure help. In fact, he’d always rather excelled at that portion of his studies. 

[Azira Thursday 10:01 am] Then should we set up a meeting? Maybe coffee? Just to see if we mesh well.

He pocketed his phone with that and hummed a slow tune with Latin lyrics he’d always liked from the days he participated in choirs as an extracurricular, making his way across the small lawn. By the time he reached the doors he was certain he would be receiving another message soon,  would meet his tutor tonight,  understand astronomy by tomorrow, and there would be nothing at all for Doctor Avgerinós to complain about. 

All he had to do was be normal for the time it took to drink one coffee and all his problems would be solved. 

He grinned. 

*

The little shed at the back of the garden center wasn’t especially comfortable, though Crowley had plans to change all that. He had big dreams of using his first paycheck (a real, honest to fuck, paycheck that was all his, that he could use to buy food and fill the aching cavern of his belly without standing in the long lines at the local soup kitchen) to buy a blanket that was soft and warm and a little area rug because his toes got so cold in the mornings. He wanted to find lights that he could hang around to make it bright and cozy and maybe a walkman to play the tapes he’d shoved in the bottom of his ratty backpack before– well, before. 

But, those were all plans for another day. Right now, he could just see the early dawn light peeking over the buildings through the thick windows on the eastern wall of the shed. He needed to be dressed and in the main building by sunrise. The idea had been easier to contemplate yesterday, when the old lady first proposed it. But then again, yesterday he’d been hungry and more than a little afraid and before Crowley knew it he’d been bundled up and presented with a large sandwich and a glass of milk and, most alarmingly, a job and a home. 

The shafts of light shifted, arcing further across the corrugated metal wall, dipping and curving in ways he thought he might grow to love. He needed to get up. He stuck a hand out of the meagre warmth the sheet provided and shivered as chilled air rushed in.

It was just... The little futon was so much more comfortable than the hard-packed earth. 

He allowed himself another thirty-count of comfort before throwing off the thin sheet and surging to his feet, throwing himself into the discomfort as quickly as he could. 

An extended groan tore its way from his throat as he stretched his arms above his head and arched his back, listening as his spine cracked and popped. Then he twisted around, angling his hips to try and shake the ache from them. 

After another few minutes spent greeting the day (which included brushing his teeth and oh how he’d forgotten what a pleasure that was), he emerged from the shed and made his way quickly across the garden center towards the small building at the front. Being that it was located in the middle of London proper, Eve’s Eden was compact, with only two true greenhouses and a small outdoor stand of fruit trees. At the center of the outdoor space was a large pear tree, currently laden down with fruit. He realized just after passing it that he didn’t have to refrain any longer and doubled back to pick three pears, immediately biting into the first and holding it between his teeth as he shoved the other two in the overwrought pockets of the trousers he’d been obliged to borrow from the shelter last week after his last pair had finally fallen to little more than threads. 

That was another thing he was going to buy, he thought, trousers. Trousers that fit him and didn’t feel like he was wearing a tent. He never felt quite like himself when his legs weren’t free to move and bulky, cargo monstrosities made his skin itch and his hands dance and his chest feel tighter than he thought clothing probably should do and so he was going to buy a good pair and if that meant the blanket and the area rug had to wait then that was alright. 

Crowley frowned to himself as he mentally calculated what would cost what and adding it up in his head, no matter how he spun it, food would be the most important - he could buy a water bottle to keep filling up and a couple of gallons of water on the side for cooking would be cheap as well. Hell, he could probably use water from the hose if it came to that. A blanket would be good and likely doable if he went second-hand shopping instead of buying new, and if he couldn’t get a proper rug that way then he would at least be able to splurge on some of those mass-produced packs of socks from Tesco when he went for cheap groceries. A thought interrupted his happy musings of warm toes, stopping him in his tracks. 

Eve– Eve might not mind if customers couldn’t necessarily tell–if he got a sufficiently baggy sweater from somewhere and grew out his hair a little more–he could wear a skirt. They wouldn’t be as cumbersome as the damned cargos he wore currently or grate on his skin. Long skirts would probably be just as comfortable as the tight jeans he preferred. Cooler too, he thought, the greenhouses were comfortable now, but he knew they would be unbearable in the summer. A breeze on his legs would be a welcome change. 

He realized that he’d been dithering outside the main building for quite some time and took a deep breath to calm himself. 

Eve wasn’t going to throw him out, he thought. She’d seemed tough, but not cruel, not someone who would give him hope that he might have any sort of future at all only to snatch it away. 

She wasn’t like that, wasn’t like-

She was different. He just knew it. 

So, he straightened the hem of his threadbare t-shirt, quickly giving up on seeming any more presentable than he had yesterday in it, and strode in as if he were the picture of confidence. Eve raised an eyebrow at him from behind her cuppa, slow and still a little sleepy from the morning haze that settles down habitually over cool London mornings. 

“Mornin’.” Crowley sketched a sheepish wave, unsure exactly where he was supposed to fit here (other than beneath the Ailanthus tree where Eve had found him sleeping last night). Nothing else seemed like it would know what to do with a Crowley-shaped person next to it, none of the other rows of plants and flowers looked like they could handle his bumbling hands sitting next to their pristine plots. He didn’t know what to–

Crowley was shocked out of his inward spiral by Eve’s hand on his bicep, squeezing just tightly enough to be reassuring instead of scolding. She smiled at him like someone might smile at a dog on the side of the road, bleeding from where it was hit and left for dead. Crowley grimaced in his head, the metaphor was more apt than he’d wanted to admit.

“You know what weeds look like?” Eve asked him, all her pretenses of grumpiness up front at full force, though to Crowley it felt like a welcome, somehow.

“Y-yeah, of course I know what weeds look like!” Crowley stuttered, what little pride she’d let him scrounge up the night before when he’d gathered up his bag and stood to leave when she’d found him curled up behind the roots of the tree furthest from the door was coated his tongue like lead. Heavy and tripping. It dripped down the back of his throat and the molten, toxic metal burnt on its way down, churning his stomach until he was nauseous and coated his heart so that it felt like bands wrapped around it and every beat and every breath pressed uncomfortably tight.

*

Ping! 

Crowley’s phone chimed and he sucked in a surprised breath, tearing himself from his uncomfortable recollections on how he came to be here, nearly a decade ago. It would be nine-and-a-half years soon. And almost ten years exactly from when he’d been kicked out in the first place as a teen. 

Crowley blinked at his messages unseeing, lost in his thoughts of Eve and her garden center. And then he blinked some more after he set the phone down, dazed with a stupid grin threatening to overtake his face. How bold! And not in a disgusting way like some people were on dating apps. “To see if we mesh well, ” Crowley’s grin ticked up a bit further at the thought. Posh and poncy, but not in a holier-and-richer-than-thou way, and he could already tell he’d like this Azira guy. Quickly he typed out another reply.

[Anthony Thursday 12:05 pm] I’m certainly interested in meshing with you.

[[Full Chapter]]