#i have a whole au cooking in my little head i never draw it

[foolnamedjoey]

UM UM UM UM

[dcxdpdabbles]

Fingers crossed for an update of Passion for Fashion 💖❓ sorry for the bother but I've just become addicted to reading that Au lololol I've read it over and over again for like a hundred times now

"Give me a spin," Dan demands, keeping a critical eye on the suit pants as the man did as he was told. He clicks his tongue in sharp disapproval before falling into a crouch and fidgeting with the hem.

Danny thinks the suit came out looking fantastic for a stupid theme like question marks. The client was also a rather exciting guy, randomly spewing riddles at them as Dan worked on his outfit and Danny cooked them lunch.

Edward Nigma had shown up on their doorstep with a cheerful greeting at five a.m. Danny wanted to tell Edward that anything before nine a.m. should be illegal, but Dan was happy to welcome him in.

Dan had forgotten to sleep again and didn't realize the early morning start. Danny was getting rather tired of the ghost rushing about with an insane amount of energy, only to crash when his human body could no longer sustain his habits.

After letting Edward get comfortable on the half-buried couch of clothing, Danny wandered back upstairs to his bedroom. It was the only room—besides the bathroom—where there wasn't a bunch of fabric and sewing instruments thrown about. He crashed on his bed and didn't wake up until two more hours later.

By that point, when he had done his morning routine and wandered downstairs, he found Edward sitting crosslegged in a ring of paper. The paper had multiple sketched designs of various suits.

A little to his right was Dan, whose hand was nothing but a blur as it raced across his sketchbook. Danny could make out that he stopped, ever so often, to switch out the coloring pencils for shades of green and purple, but doing it at such a speed that he doubted regular humans would be able to tell.

It meant his drawings were done at an insanely fast pace. He wondered if his Obsession made it possible not to burn a hole through the paper. Was there a way to test that? Ghosts did have an effect on their environments just as the environments had an effect on their forming.

Edward was comparing two papers in his hands with a critical eye. He looked up as Danny stumbled down the stairs- he had never been a morning person. He held up the designs for Danny to see, asking, " What is the most dangerous thing to give a man in a crowd?"

Half asleep, Danny didn't miss a beat in muttering, "Power."

Edward seemed pleased by his response, putting the left one back into the ring of papers before shifting around to face a new side of the ring. There, he ran his fingers over the designs, muttering, "It needs to be powerful."

Right.

"I'm making breakfast if anyone-"

"No need. Edward ordered us some. Your burrito is over there somewhere," Dan cut him off, turning to the next page without lifting his head. "It's part of my commission."

"Free food?"

"For a week"

"Nice"

Edward glances at them. "I can keep feeding you if you answer more riddles."

Danny takes a big bite out of his bean burrito, savoring the explosion of flavor that dances over before nodding his head. "I promise I'll try to answer as many as I can but I'm not the best at them."

The man frowns, turning away back to this pile of papers. "If you're not going to play my game, you don't need to waste the air you breathe in."

Both Fentons freeze at that, snapping their heads in Edward's direction. Now, correct him if he is wrong, but that sounded a whole lot like a threat to Danny. He made eye contact with Dan, tracing the youthful human face that held the same bloodlust as his adult form.

Was Edward aware he had just issued a Ghost Challenge to the one Fenotn, the least human, thus the one with the least humanity of them all, madness cured or not? Is he aware that Dan was putting down his drawings, his teeth more sharp, and his hands curled into claws?

Danny sprung to his feet, mouth open in a shout just as Dan was about to leap-

Ding Dong.

The front doorbell cuts through the air like a knife through hot butter. Dan's ghost instincts all but vanish as his eyes light up in joy. He goes through with his leap, but it's only to go over Edward's form and roll to a stop on the other side, heading towards the door. "My second client!"

Danny breathes a sigh of relief, flopping back down in his seat. He ignores Edward, savoring his food with a deep hunger. Clockwork had sent them over with enough funds to survive, and there were no bills they needed to cover (if there were, no one had bothered to come collect from the Fentons or cut their services), but that was a limit to how loose they could be with their spending.

Danny thought eating out was a luxury he would miss out on until he returned home. Of course, he got a coffee or something occasionally, but that made this free food all the more tasty.

"I was thinking something more eco-friendly," The redhead woman from the runway told Dan as she scanned the room with a hint of distaste. "Are you aware of the damage to the Earth these fabric stores cause?"

Dan eyed her with equal distance. "Are you aware of how little I care about that?"

Edward snaps his head up with a gasp. "Did he really say that to Ivy?"

"I thought her name was Pamela," Danny asks, which causes the green woman to snap a glare at him. He shrugs helplessly at her rage, reminded of Sam in a heartbreaking moment. "Miss, look around you. Do you honestly think ants like us have any say with the fabric companies?"

"You could stop giving them business!" She hisses as Dan rolls his eyes.

"We bought almost everything from a second-hand store or a discount store. The poor don't get to make eco-friendly decisions. They make ones that help them stay off the streets." Danny explains gently, making sure his voice is not dismissive or condescending. He thinks back to nights when he had to talk Sam down from doing something crazy- like setting a building on fire for them and cutting down the oldest trees in Amity Park. "You have the means to make a change."

Pamela raises a brow. "I do make a change. Permanently."

"Oh, that's great. How many trees have you replanted?" Danny asks, smiling widely. It's odd how she reacts to his question, body still going in surprise.

"What?"

"I mean, I figured you would be focusing on healing the earth instead of causing it more scars by engaging in human wars, right?" Danny tilts his head, aware of Edward's flabbergasted look and Dan's apparent boredom with the conversation. "You're different from the big corporations who don't care who or what they hurt to reach their end goal, right? "

Pamela opens and closes her mouth before she snaps her back straight. "That wouldn't save the Earth! Humans are a plague!"

"Humans can also be a cure if the right ones get started." Danny counters quickly. "I mean, what have you done for the rivers around Gotham? The water that flows through there affects the plant life just as much. Also, plants and green help lower depression, and Gotham needs help. Plant some pretty flowers and gardens, and watch the neighborhoods flock to them. If you can convince the people to love the plants as much as you do, they will join you in keeping them safe."

Pamela's eyes narrow. "Don't you dare lecture me about how to save the Earth."

Danny shrugs, stepping away from her. A sudden strong perfume fills the air, causing his nose to wrinkle. It smells like his grandmother's house and is not welcoming. "Wasn't a lecture, but if you take it as such, there is no point in talking about it anymore."

"You're going to die for me," she suddenly says, popping out her hip and smirking at him.

"That's nothing special, Danny would die for a pizza." Dan cuts in

"I would die for an extra cheese pizza." Danny corrects, pointing his finger at his counterpart. "You would die for less."

"Oh, to be dead. In the arms of the most handsome EverBurning to ever live." Dan sighs dramatically, leaning into three pieces of cloth behind him, one hand on his forehead.

Danny threw his hands in the air. He's sick and tired of hearing about the ghost they knew for only ten minutes. "Killer Croc is never going to give you a chance, Dan. Move on!"

"We could have been forever if it weren't for my age!" Dan hisses right back, "You wouldn't understand! It's not like you or Samantha turned five!"

"Who's fault do you think that was? " Danny yells back, stepping around the wide-eyed Edward to snare into Dan's face. Pamela has taken three steps back, looking confused more than anything, mouthing Killer's name with clear disbelief.

"I wasn't the one that messed up the timeline!" Dan hisses, switching over to Spanish. Sometimes, the fake twins found themselves doing that whenever they got too emotional.

"You destroyed the world!"

"As it was foretold!"

"What does that even mean!?"

Ding Dong.

Once again, the doorbell cuts through the tension, making Danny huff. He pushes past Dan, who punches him in the arm but doesn't stop him from throwing the door open. Outside stands Tim Drake, with a bouquet of flowers and a nervous smile.

"I'm here for the suit," Tim says, holding out the flowers. "I know you said I didn't have to pay you, but I thought it was rude to not offer anything-"

"Buy me pizza." Danny cuts him off with dead-set eyes. "Double crust."

Tim startles. "Oh. Sure?"

Danny can feel his face stretch out into a grin. It lights up his whole face—Sam and Tucker had told him many times before—and he just knows it makes him appear lighter and friendlier. Tim's face goes very red as Danny takes his flowers. "It's a date. Come on in. Dan can get your measurements for the resize, and I can get ready in the meantime."

"Okay." Tim follows after him in a daze, stumbling over the fabric rolls Dan had stacked against the wall. He tries to avoid tipping but tangles himself in the string of cloth examples, still strung up everywhere. Danny quickly reaches out to steady him with a laugh.

"Yeah, this place is a bit of a mess," he tells the other. "It's slightly better today since Dan has some guests."

He leads Tim back into the living room, surprised to find that the awful smell has disappeared, Edward is currently being measured by Dan in his underwear, and Pamela is flipping through Dan's designs with a thought frown.

Huh, maybe Dan managed to calm her down. How? He's unsure, but that ghost always seemed to have the oddest people skills.

Tim gulps loudly when he finally spots everyone. "These are his guests?!"

"It's one of the Waynes." Edward cheers, arms held out to his sides as Dan places the measuring tap from his armpit to his waist. "Tim Drake, right? I had you in one of my riddles three months ago!"

"That's funny. I induced his father with pheromones around the same time." Pamela speaks up, giving Tim a friendly smile. It's the most welcoming expression she's worn since she got here.

Also ew, why would she tell someone she hooked up with their dad to their face like that?

Tim pales dramatically, reaching out to clutch Danny's arm. He pats it gently, hoping to comfort him from such a bizarre comment. "Dan, when you finish with Edward, can you message Tim for his adjustments. We're going on a date."

Dan glances over at him. "Whore"

"Just because I've gone on dates while Killer didn't even give you the time of day doesn't mean you can call me names, Dan."

"Whore but affectionately," Dan says after a long pause, and Danny nods.

"That's better." He pats Tim again on the shoulder- aware of his strange fidgeting with a ring on his finger that imitates a strange faint beeping. "I'll go upstairs to get ready. Who knows, maybe we'll find Batman."

Edward and Pamela laugh as if Danny said a funny joke and Tim's face aging a few more nervous lines. "Maybe"

He leaves Tim to take a seat next to Pamela. She leans over to show Dan's designs for her Leaf theme act and asks for his opinion. Tim fidgets even more with his ring as he answers her, voice shaky and cracking.

She seems highly amused.

His pale face stands out among the sea of handing red glimmering fabric around his head, and Danny is startled for a second by the idea that he is pretending to be scared, much like an actor before a red stage curtains.

It takes a particular skill to pull off an act that good. Almost an inhuman amount. One could even claim it was.... Bat-man-like.

I have a lead, Danny thinks with glee as he quickly climbs the stairs. He is careful not to step on bundles of yarn that Dan has stacked there. I finally have a lead!

He's going to charm the pants off of Tim to get him to tell him everything about Batman.

[penkura]

Plz do a Husband corazon + child Law for mother's day 💐💛

Y E S omg I love Corazon, he'd be such a great husband and father. 🥺 On par or even better than Sanji imo.

I hope you don't mind that Corazon and the Reader have a biological daughter as well, I just thought it would be cute!! I also made this a modern AU one, because damn it, Corazon deserved to be happy. :'(

(Note: This is out of order from all requests simply due to the theme. I have made progress on the others!)

Corazon would have a whole plan, partly put together by thirteen-year-old Law and your toddler, Evangeline. Your daughter would draw you a card, while Corazon and Law focused on making you breakfast and of course, it would go all kinds of wrong.

You wake up to hushed shouting between your husband and adoptive son, Law telling Corazon he's going to burn the bacon and to stop smoking while he cooks. Your husband retorts that it's fine, nothing bad is going to happen. He's not going to set anything on fire, unlike at Christmas. For a few minutes you lay there on your phone, listening to your family down the hall. Evangeline eventually comes into your bedroom, pulling on your blanket and calling for you to pay attention to her.

“Mommy, mommy!”

You roll over and lift her up into your bed, giving her a tight hug while she laughs and returns it. What a joy she is, that last nearly three years have been a blessing with her and Law around, you wouldn’t change it for the world. Yes, some people have given your small family odd looks—what are two twenty-six-year-olds doing with a toddler and a teenager?—but you’ve learned to tune them out and ignore them. It didn’t matter what others thought, they could assume you’d had a teen pregnancy all they wanted. It wasn’t the truth, but some wouldn’t even listen or believe you. After all, you’d tried to explain it to your coworkers when you and Corazon adopted Law just before Evangeline was born, but even those close to you didn’t understand it.

“What’ve you got there, Evie?”

“Your gift!” She beams at you and holds the card she’d made out, the biggest grin on her little face. Just as planned, it’s a card she scribbled together, you can recognize your husband’s handwriting to make the words legible, but it’s still adorable that she tried so hard to make you something. There’s a cute little drawing of your family in the card, making you smile and hug her again,

“Thank you, Evie! I—” you’re stopped by the smell of smoke before the smoke detector goes off and kick off your blanket, running down the hall with your daughter in your arms and hearing Law yell that everything is fine, though you’re at the kitchen doorway before he finishes speaking. “What is happening?!”

Law turns to you and points at Corazon, who is waving a towel over the completely burnt bacon to try and get the smoke and smell out the window. “He burned breakfast again!”

“Not like you were helping, little shi—” Corazon stops himself when you send him a glare and cover Evangeline’s ears, shaking your head at him. After the one time she said ‘bastard’, you’d been very watchful of what words were said in your house, “Look, it’s fine! We can salvage it!”

“No, we can’t! It’s burnt black!”

Corazon ignores Law’s complaints for the moment, coming over to kiss your forehead and smile at Evangeline. “Did you give mommy her card?”

“I did!”

“That’s my girl!” Evangeline giggles while Corazon turns back to kiss you as a proper good morning. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

“Thank you, beloved.”

You’re briefly interrupted by a fancy bouquet of flowers being shoved between the two of you, Law looking away shyly as he holds them there for you, his own gift for you for the day that makes you almost cry and heart ache. He’d been with you as your son for the last three years, but this was the first time he’d given you anything on this day. You’ll never truly take the place of his mother, like Corazon won’t really take his father’s place and Evangeline his sister’s, but you’re glad for the smallest bit of progress that has him viewing you all as his family, and you hope for him to continuing viewing you all in that light, even as he grows up and out of your home one day.

“…Happy Mother’s Day.”

Crouching down enough to be eye level with him, you give Law a kiss on the forehead and a smile.

“Thank you so much, Law. I love them.”

[222col]

more sugardaddy!au | patrick's obsessed with you, taking advantage of you every moment he can, art's dreaming of doing the same | 18+

the week patrick spends at your apartment is amazing, buying you new outfits for all his matches, dressing you up a little doll. you spend most of the rest of the time hidden away from the world, patrick using you as his personal fuck toy. destroying you in every place possible, over the kitchen counter, on the chair in your bedroom, up against your floor to ceiling windows. you cook him meals, make him coffees every morning and shower him in affection any chance you get. he's never felt so looked after in all his life. art's messages have died down, not stopped, but your phone isn't ringing every 20 minutes anymore.

i watched patrick's match. you looked beautiful. i can't believe you let him kiss you like that

he's hurt. broken. ashamed of himself of never claiming you the way patrick has. the tennis news world haven't stopped talking about this up and coming model that's captured the adoring eyes of tennis fans. art sees every post, every new article that comes out about you. tennis fans are eating you up, praising you for your fashion choices, that patrick of course secretly claims as his doing. social media is blowing up any new picture of you and patrick that comes out. patrick's been posting you, so shamelessly. pictures of you at dinner dates, when he takes you shopping, candids of you doing your make up. all art can do is watch, and complain to tashi, who's given up on listening.

"the finals in two days," patrick says to you, sat on your couch, your legs on his lap. "hmm, i know, i'm looking forward to it." you mumble peacefully into your morning coffee. "if art wins today, it'll be the two of us in the final." he's stroking your legs, softly drawing shapes on your shins. "i know." you gulp. patrick tilts his head to the side, his hands now massaging your feet. he's pushing, he wants more from you. "you haven't seen him since you left last week, have you?" he knows the answer, you've been with him the whole time, but he's easing you into the conversation. you simply shake your head. "no, i haven't, but he's been texting me obviously." patrick already knew that, he's seen most of the texts. "how do you feel about it? if its us two in the final?" he's being sweet, bringing up your feet to kiss your toes, making you giggle. "i don't know, it'll be a bit weird obviously, i don't know how he's going to act, but i'll be there for you, not him." you bring your coffee mug up to your lips, taking a sip. "you gonna be rooting for me, princess?" he kisses your toes again. "obviously." he leans over to you, taking your mug from your hands, putting it down on the coffee table. "hey, i was drinking that." you pout at him. patrick crawls over your body, placing himself between your legs. "you gonna be shouting my name, cheering me on to beat him?"

if there's one thing in this world patrick loves more than anything, it's power. he thrives off it, revels in gaining power and using it to his advantage. he and art have always had interesting power dynamics, patrick's always loved watching it unravel in front of him. so this new storyline in their dynamic excites him, and quite frankly, turns him on.

you're trapped underneath him, nodding softly at patrick's words. his lips attack your neck, straight to the sweet spot he's discovered that turns you into putty under his spell. "patrick," your eyes close, his name slipping off your tongue like honey. the way you say his name makes his cock twitch, like no one's ever pronounced it right before he heard his name escape your lips with a moan for the first time. "god, if you said my name like that on the court when cheering me on art might just kill me there and then," he's kissing his way down your body, sliding his tongue across your skin, pulling up the t-shirt of his you're wearing to expose your bare chest. his lips wrap around your nipple, more moans slipping out of your mouth, hands grasping hold of his curls. he keeps tonguing his way down your body, pulling your underwear down your legs. licking a line through your folds, hands groping your chest. guttural moans leaving your lips as he blows hot air on your sweet spot.

"bet art never had you moaning like this, princess," you should be uncomfortable, should feel fucking terrible about the way patrick talks about art. but you don't. you're dripping at his words. art was sweet, gentle, fucked you slowly, patrick waits until he's fucked you like an animal, coming inside you before he asks if you're okay. he lets his primal instinct take over, fucks you hard and takes no mercy. "tell me," he mumbles against your cunt, pushing his fingers inside of you. you mewl at the feeling, his digits curling up to massage the sweet spot inside of you. "fucking tell me." he's ordering you now, moving his fingers at the speed of light. "never," you moan, hands tightening around his hair. "never fucked me as hard as you, never made me cum as much as you."

you can feel him smirking into your sex, making out with your clit. he's working you into orgasm, not pulling away to breathe, not stopping the speed in which his fingers are fucking you. he lives for it, wants to drink you in, like no matter how close his face is to your pussy, it'll never be enough. lapping up your cunt, drunk of the taste of you. your legs clinch around his head, back arched as his name falls from your mouth, screaming out. he tongues you through your orgasm, placing one final kiss to you as your legs loosen around him. "good fucking girl."

pushing his body onto the floor below the couch, his body landing with a thud, his mouth agape. straddling him as you fall on top of him, lips attacking his, tasting yourself in his mouth. only breaking apart to pull your shirt over your head, patrick following suit. pushing yourself up on his chest, sitting on his lap as you grind your bare cunt against his clothed cock. "stop fucking around and ride me." patrick's instructions are his own form of begging, ordering you around when he comes impatient. his hips buck up as he pulls down his boxers, lifting you up by your hips and forcing you down onto him. he doesn't hold back his moans as he thrusts his hips up as you bounce on his cock. his hand around your throat as you fuck each other at pace. he's intoxicated from you, eyes dark, not prying his gaze off your body for even a second. his hands moving to your shoulders as he stops your movement, groaning your name as his hips bruise your thighs, pushing against you, filling you with his load. hands dropping to his sides as he comes down from his high, sliding out of you as your mouth darts around his cock, licking him clean. "jesus, where have you been all my life?" you giggle around his cock, kissing up his length before leaning over to kiss his forehead. "let's get you cleaned up." you smile and lead him to the shower, where he inevitably can't resist you and fucks you again against the glass.

"never fucked me as hard as you, never made me cum as much as you." the sound of you plays from art's laptop, sitting on his bed, watching the scene unfold in from of him. watching patrick climb all over your body. art's hand slips into his shorts, he knows it's wrong, perverted, even. but he missed you, needed to see more of you than the occasional picture on patrick's story. logging into the security app on his laptop, pressing the 'watch live' button, seeing you and patrick having a domestic morning in your living room. starting to close the app, but as patrick pounced on you, he couldn't bring himself to turn it off. art had the one camera installed in the living space in your apartment after your neighbour a few doors down had a break in.

he was hurt by your words, studying your expressions and the noises patrick was forcing you to create. stroking himself at the sight before him, he's disgusted at himself, but he can't stop. watching you fuck patrick as he dreams of himself being beneath you how patrick was. art works himself to orgasm, some of his come landing on the screen. he's so embarrassed, his cheeks so very red, but it doesn't stop him overstimulating himself at the sight of you getting fucked by his best friend.

[starreyblueberry]

Hiii star! I love ur Headcanons/ideas for Timmy! He’s so adorable and my whole childhood <3

I need more of em :>

WAIT HOLY SHIT UR THE ONE OMORI FAIRLY ODD PARENTS ARTIST?? BROO I LOVE UR AU SO MUCH!! I have a BUNCH of silly head canons and ideas in my heard for Timmy :D

- Timmy is actually a smart kid, he’s able to figure out stuff rather quickly and is very quick on his feet, he just deals with mildly severe ADHD ^_^ (he just like me FR)

- Timmy couldn’t decide on a major and kept switching between them during his first 2 years of college

- Timmy’s room becomes more and more decorated with memorials from his adventures that could pass as stuff he got from the store

- Timmy’s closest also had to be expanded with how much stuff Timmy had from his adventures

- Timmys Time skooter used to be one of the only ways to time travel outside of Father Time (basically it was a secret item Timmy had that he only used for emergency’s)

- Timmy LOVES skateboarding and Rollerskating when he’s a teenager, he feels like he’s flying with his fairies.

- Timmy didn’t get his license until he was 18, as he crashed the car a few times at first.

- His most common wish is usually summoning toys or gadgets for Peri/poof to play with

- Timmy always lists Peri as his little brother in assignments that tell you to make a family tree

- Timmy was the only godkid allowed to dimension-hop

- Jimmy neutron and Timmy turner stay in touch as the years go by, staying close as they valued each others friendship greatly. (until one day Timmy stops messaging Jimmy when he turns 18? What’s that all about.)

- Timmy’s considered a peace maker across the galaxy, and also has a bounty on his head for millions of dollars in whatever space currency there is

- He starts his own video game club, trixie uses her disguise to play sometimes and Timmy doesn’t mind her

- Timmy learns how to deal with fairy hair so that he can help Peri and Wanda with different hairstyles (and sometimes Cosmo but he usually just keeps it down)

- As Timmy gets older he and Jorgen actually meet outside of when he’s in trouble and offer each other advise sometimes or just hang out. And also to tell the other when the universe is ending but who gaf

- Timmy starts becoming really fond of sitcoms since most of them feature found family

- Timmy starts learning how to draw and has a dedicated sketchbook just for his adventures with his fairy fam, so that he had some way to see everything it after his memories were erased

- Timmy gave his Pink hat to peri on his 18th birthday, it’s collecting dust on Peris Bookshelf right now

- Timmy tried to play match maker with his friends as he got older which resulted in a stern talking to from Cupid

- Timmy is a horrible cook until he turns 18, and actually tries for once cause he dosent have much to do anymore

- Timmy is a bit obnoxious with his music taste sometimes (Name 5 My chemical romance songs rn 🙄) (he means well and gets over it)

- Timmy listens to a lot of Midwest emo, and hyperpop. No one likes listening to his playlists cause of the drastic whiplast the change in songs is sometimes

- Timmy wishes less and less as he gets older but he always needs Cosmo and Wanda, just for their bond. He always goes to them for advice

- Timmy sucks ass at sports, he still tries though but sometimes he will fake being sick so he can sit out of gym

- the day before Timmy turned 18 was the time he used the most wishes (aka trying to find loopholes)

- Timmy started to have an appreciation for sea creatures that never faded away as he grew up

- I MISS TIMMY TURNERRRRR 😭😭😭😭

[epinebleue]

love me now (m) | 01

(Gif credit)

in which you have sex via FaceTime.

pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)

genre: established relationship!au, mature.

warnings: dirty talking, praise kink, masturbation.

author’s note: tell me why i’m blushing while posting this lmao you can tell i haven’t written smut in years.

chapter index

“I really miss you.”

Johnny laughs quietly at your pouty face, causing the image to shake for a few seconds.

“I left this morning.”

“Still!” You defend yourself, head on the pillows and arm raised, holding the phone up so that Johnny can see your face. “The house’s so quiet. I hate it here.”

“You should’ve come with me, then.”

“I have to work, Johnny, it’s not like I didn’t want to go.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s accusations. He raises an eyebrow as if doubting your word. You know he’s only playing, but it bothers you a little. “Besides, you know how much I love your mother’s cooking, how could I say no to that?”

“Well, for your information, she won’t accept a no next time. She said she’ll cook all your favorite dishes.”

You laugh softly at that, flattered. You’ve been in a relationship with Johnny for two years, yet she loves and takes care of you as if you had dated for decades. Even if you can't go visit Johnny's parents that much, they still treat you like a queen every time you go there. You’re so fortunate to have them and their son in your life.

“She’s so cute. Tell them I love them.”

“I will.” Johnny places his free arm behind his neck and rests his head on it. “Tell me about your day. Did you have fun?”

“Oh, yes.” You hadn’t been able to go out with your whole group for months, ones too busy with work and studies, others trying to get their lives together. Managing to gather them in the same place had been such a challenge but so worthy. “Rosie’s starting a new job tomorrow, Jane will defend her PhD next month, and Jamie’s going to Hawaii on a spiritual retreat or some shit. Oh, and she made out with a waiter. And a bartender.”

Johnny scoffs in disbelief. “Classic Jamie.”

“It was a bet, actually.” And you lost 20 dollars, but you aren’t telling him that. “Wait a minute, my arm’s getting tired.” You rest the phone against the pillows and roll until you're lying on your stomach in front of it, hand supporting your chin.

“Is that my T-shirt?” Johnny asks out of nowhere. You’re speechless, having forgotten about it. Yes, you’re wearing Johnny’s favorite T-shirt, given by his father when he turned 16. It’s dark grey, with a drawing and the band’s name on the front: Coldplay. It fits Johnny perfectly but is huge enough to cover your body like a dress when you wear it.

“Yeah.” An embarrassed laugh leaves your lips because, up until now, Johnny didn’t know that you wear his clothes whenever he’s away. “It smells like you, makes me feel less lonely.”

“You’re so cute.” His eyes form a pair of crescent moons as he smiles, making your embarrassment grow.

“Stop!” Your face falls flat on the mattress in an attempt to hide away from his gaze.

“I mean it, you look so pretty.” You giggle against the soft covers. It doesn’t matter how much Johnny compliments you, you’ll never get used to it. “I’d so fuck you in that.”

You raise your head so fast that you hear your neck crack. You aren’t laughing anymore, but you still smile. Johnny, on the other hand, is dead serious. 

“Control yourself, sir, you’re in your parent’s house.”

“How can you tell me to control myself when you look that hot?” That wipes your smile away, his words causing the effect he wants, triggering a heatwave that takes over your body.

There’s a subtle wetness growing between your legs, even if he has barely said anything. That’s the power Johnny has over you. One look, one word, is enough. You look directly into his dark eyes, filled with lust, and you chuckle.

“Fine, you’ve got all my attention. Tell me what you would do to me.”

Johnny licks his lips before speaking. His words come out slowly, dragging them more than necessary. He keeps his voice low, not wanting to disturb his parents. If they catch him dirty talking via FaceTime, it’s over for you both.

“I'd start by rubbing that cunt of yours.”

You slide down the bed and get on your knees, making sure that Johnny can see your face and body. You place a hand on your thigh, gently moving it upwards to your wet core, giving yourself goosebumps. You touch yourself over the thin fabric of your blue underwear, letting out an obnoxious moan. Johnny's reaction is immediate, a quiet curse slipping out of his lips.

You sight. “Like this?”

“Yes, like that.” He says, eyes fixed on your movements. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice, of neediness. “Take off your underwear, babe, let me see you.”

It’s not a plea, but an order. You love when Johnny bosses you around in bed; when he loses his patience and manhandles you until he has you where he wants. And it looks like the dynamic will never change, not even when he’s in Chicago, in his childhood room. You throw your panties aside and go back to the same position, knees on the mattress, fingers rubbing your clit now.

“Fuck, I’m so wet.”

You press your fingertips against your folds, waiting for instructions. Johnny moves his arm from behind his head and it disappears from the frame. A soft growl erupts from his throat, letting you know that he’s pleasuring himself, too.

“Touch yourself for me, baby girl.” The pet name has you drooling, rushing to insert a finger inside of you, slowly, to make sure Johnny can enjoy the moment. Then, he demands. “I want to see your body. Lift the T-shirt.”

You rush to grab the hem of the garment but take your sweet time to pull it up, teasing him. He clenches his jaw and the image shakes a bit. You close your eyes and picture Johnny’s hand around his dick, the leaking tip red and angry. You imagine him using his pre cum as a lube, his hand moving up and down, but never being satisfied, because only you can get him off. You bring the hem of the T-shirt to your mouth and bite it, keeping it up so that he can see your naked body.

“Shit... add another finger.”

You listen and slide in a second finger, the feeling of being stretched making you moan louder. It's a good thing Johnny has AirPods on.

You move your fingers in and out, desperate and lost in the view in front of you: Johnny has closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, leaving his neck deliciously exposed. You wish you could kiss it, bite it, mark him. You know he loves that kinky shit. Unconsciously, your fingers move faster, the sound of your juices flooding the room. You wonder if Johnny can hear that.

“Does it feel good, babe?” He asks, eyes falling on you again. You nod frenetically, unable to form any other words right now. “Fuck, you look so pretty. Are you a good girl?”

You fall apart every time he compliments you. You clench around your fingers and, again, all you do is nod. You moan in between sighs, biting on the T-shirt as you throw your head back. The fabric is all damp and your tongue is dry.

With your free hand, you rub your clit as your fingers reach further inside you. You wish Johnny was the one fucking you right now, your fingers being nothing compared to him. Hell, you want him so bad. Why does he have to be so far away?

Johnny growls again. “You're doing so good.”

Your mind is all over the place. Johnny's words encourage you to add another finger, even if he doesn't order you to do so. Johnny pants quietly enough so his parents don't hear him, but you do. Your hand cups your sex every time you thrust with your fingers, your climax getting closer and closer.

You open your mouth and the T-shirt slides down a bit. You grab it in a fist over your chest, making sure Johnny still has access to your body.

“John, I'm so close.” You whine with your eyes closed shut, the knot in your stomach growing with every caress of your clit.

“Wait for me, baby.” Once again, he demands. “You can do that, right?”

You're not sure if you can, but still, you nod, wanting to make Johnny proud. You want to be a good girl, so you keep pumping your fingers.

“But I want to see you touching yourself, please.”

“Sure, babe.”

Johnny smirks, and then his face disappears from your screen. Instead, you welcome the amazing view of his hand pumping his dick, erect and red. It looks so delicious you wish you could put it in your mouth. Damn, the things you would do if he was here with you. The image’s enough to send you over the edge, but you still try by all means to delay your orgasm. And it works, at least until you hear Johnny calling your name.

“Johnny, I can't-”

He must have noticed your desperation because his next words come out softly. “Cum, baby, cum for me.”

By the time you’re able to finish, your hand aches like hell. Your hand gets caught in between your legs as you cum. Your orgasm feels like an electric shock that shakes you to the bone as you call Johnny, desperately. You witness him finishing seconds later, white ropes landing on his stomach, abs clenching as your name slips from his mouth like a prayer. You thrust your fingers a few more times, riding your orgasm until the feeling fades away.

You pull them out, both hands landing on the bed before you fall on it, rolling to your side. You’re tired and sweaty, and the T-shirt sticks to your skin. Only your pants can be heard for a moment. Shortly after, Johnny switches the camera again.

“Fuck, that was hot.” He pushes his hair back, panting. “You’re so hot. I love you.”

The compliment fills you with pride, but his confession makes you smile widely, stupidly.

“I love you, too.”

You close your eyes for a few seconds, only opening them at the sound of Johnny’s voice. “Go sleep, princess, you’re tired.”

“No.” You whine. “I want to stay a little longer.”

“You’re literally falling asleep as we speak.”

There’s something in his eyes that makes you melt: adoration. You love it when Johnny looks at you like this.

“Nonsense.”

“I’ll call you in the morning, alright?”

You pout, closing your eyes again. His voice is so soothing that you could fall asleep as he speaks. “Promise me.”

“I pinky-promise you.”

“Okay...” You giggle. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, princess.” He zooms in on his lips, and teasingly whispers. “Dream of me.”

Hell, you miss him so much.

No reposting or translations allowed.

© epinebleue 2023

[silentmoths]

At your beck and call

Its moth, crawling out of the covid cave to drop this and then going back to bed.

wont lie this idea has been on my mind for the better part of a week, but between work and then being smashed by the ol' rona I havent had the energy, plain and simple. but I'm starting to get that back.

sorry if it seems a little rushed, brain wanted it OUT.

Butler! Zhongli x CEO (Afab) Reader.

Nsfw, does this count as office AU? i think it does?, humiliation kink if you squint?, aftercare because even when he's mean zhongli is an aftercare king.

You had never entertained the thought of hiring a live-in personal butler until one of your friends had mentioned it. She’d gone on and on about how her much time having one had saved, and how it gave her the peace of mind to relax every once in a while, a luxury you can't remember the last time you afforded as the ceo of a major company, sure you had secretaries, but they only worked within the firm, and your life?

God you needed a secretary for life.

Even then. It took you a few more months to finally cave and look into it. The agency you find has raving reviews; there’s an interview process, which takes another few weeks for you to finally sit down and do. They ask you many questions about your lifestyle, and what you need out of their service, and then it’s left in their hands.

And so, a week later, you receive a knock at your door.

Tall, sharp features, immaculately dressed.

But his eyes.

Holy shit his eyes.

Molten gold, almost shimmering in the morning light as your new butler bows to you.  One gloved hand over his heart.

“Good morning Miss. My name is Zhongli.The agency has analysed your lifestyle and have thus extended your contract to me.” He explains.

Well damn, in the looks department alone you’d be leaving them a five-star review.

—

Your first proper morning with Zhongli working for you was…hectic.

Your morning alarm didn’t go off, thankfully your body-clock was pretty on point, but still, you’d slept in ten whole minutes, throwing off your schedule.

You barely even noticed that your clothes had already been laid out in the bathroom as you whirlwind through your bedroom to get ready, simply picking up the neatly folded pile as you went.

You resign yourself to a breakfast smoothie as you flurry into the kitchen, you simply didnt have any time to cook, and you’d have to clean the blender when you got home-

“Ah, good morning Miss. I trust you slept well?” Zhongli asks as he places down a plate of bacon and eggs at your usual spot in the breakfast nook. You stop, blinking at him with wide eyes.

“W-whats that?” you ask him, brain still not quite with it yet.

“Breakfast?” He counters with a tilt of his head. “Simply one of my duties.”

Right…

Right you had a secretary for your life now…

And fuck, he could cook.

You don't remember the last time you’d sat down, in your own house, eating a hot, home cooked meal for breakfast…usually it was toast, or if you didn’t have time to sit, the aforementioned smoothie that you really hated, but it was better than nothing, because when else would you have time to eat during the day?

But no, breakfast had been made for you, served with coffee and even the morning newspaper. Zhongli looks…immaculate as always, smile on his face as he cleans up and announces he will be awaiting you in the car.

That first day…no, the first week was such a learning curve… between him driving you everywhere, keeping you blessedly on time for your meetings, he also seemed to know exactly what you needed, sometimes before even you knew.

He sometimes appears with a small plate of cookies, and a mug of hot coffee, made just the way you like it,  just as your mood was beginning to wane, and immediately you feel better. 

As the weeks stretch on and deadlines draw closer, you find that he’s also an amazing sounding board, and your nights become a little less weary with someone else there to fill the silence, even as he silently goes about tidying your home, he’s never too far away.

—

Something around the latter half of the year just really made all your client’s extra demanding. 

Your staff were overworked.

You were overworked.

You find yourself staying up later and later into the night, going over plans and documents, trying to sort all of this…this mess into something cohesive for both yourself and your poor staff.

You rub at your temples with a ragged sigh. What time was it now? You don't think you want to know… 

A soft clink beside you draws your attention to a fresh cup of tea and you startle.

“Oh, Zhongli…I-I thought you’d be asleep by now..” you murmur softly, leaning back in your chair. Your butler simply smiles at you, even now at god-knows-what time passed midnight, he was still dressed in his usual work suit. “You should be too, Miss.” he tells you softly, but not condescendingly, like a worried friend.

“I cant yet.” you sigh, motioning to the armageddon of papers strewn across your desk “I need to get this sorted before the next review meeting but…augh I dunno…I just…I cant concentrate.”

“That would be because you are stressed, and tired.” Zhongli points out, chuckling softly at your side eye before he shifts, walking around your desk to come to a stop behind your chair. “Here… perhaps this will help…” he murmurs more to himself than to you, and suddenly his hands are on your shoulders, lithe, careful fingers pressing into your trapezius muscles. You grunt and wince a little, having been totally unaware of how tense your shoulders had been until now.

“Shh, just take a deep breath and relax.” Zhongli’s deep voice rumbles behind you as he slowly massages at the tension, his hands are gentle, but expert, and it takes you longer than it should to realise that he's not wearing his gloves for this. “Now…tell me what the matter is…”

With another set of eyes, and a clear explanation of what you need, by the time he’s worked all the tension from your shoulders, you’ve finally got a clear plan, and immediately set to work sorting and organising the moment his warm, surprisingly soft hands finally leave your shoulders.

Once all is said and done, you turn to your butler.

“Thank you, Zhongli…I…don't think I could have done that without you here.”

You’re met with a dashingly handsome, genuine smile, and a graceful bow of his head.

“It was my pleasure, Miss. I am here to aid your every whim.” 

—

Meeting after meeting after meeting.

If you had to speak to one more person demanding things of you and your company today, you were going to scream. The sight of your black sedan, waiting dutifully for you outside the sliding glass doors at the end of the day was almost enough to make you cry as you all but collapse into the back seats with a groan.

“How were the investors today, Maam?” Zhongli asks, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he watches you in the rear-view.

“They could invest in some chill.” you mutter, taking a few moments before forcing yourself to sit up, knowing full well Zhongli wouldn’t move this car an inch until you had your seatbelt on.

“I hazard to say you could also do with, as you say, some chill.” He adds as he easily merges into the busy afternoon traffic. “You’re working yourself to the bone.”

“It’s just another month.” you sigh “investors always get antsy this time of year…”

“You said that last month too, you know.”

“Did I?” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose “Hey…when we get home…could I have another one of those massages?”

You loathe to admit how…reliant you had become on Zhongli’s ability to get the tension out of your shoulders, ever since that first night when he’d helped sort out your work with you, you’d been asking every other day or so for one, it was just so nice to relax into his care while you vented the day’s frustrations away, or soundboarded with him.

“Oh I think I can manage that.”

“Where would I be without you…?” you mumble softly as you let your eyes shut for a moment, just a moment to rest your aching eyes.

As it stands, that moment ends when Zhongli’s gentle hand on your arm rouses you. “Wh-wassgoinon?” you mumble, looking around.

“We’re home, Miss….you looked like you needed the rest so I didn’t rouse you.” Zhongli murmurs softly, reaching past you to fetch your bag.

He smells of tea, and spices…warm…comforting. 

—

You groan softly as his fingers press insistently into your shoulders.

“You’re extra tense today…” Zhongli murmurs softly, leaning over to look you in the face “are you alright?”

“I-I…yeah…just…stressed I think.” you sigh, leaning your head to the side so he can get better access to your neck. You’d never admit it, but you were pretty sure at this point you were just craving his touch, you just…didn't have the time for skinship these days, how you’d managed to survive before hiring him? You had no idea.

Behind you, Zhongli hums.

“May I try…something different?” He asks quietly, rather unlike him, usually when he did something, he did it with confidence that you would be alright with it, and so far he’d never been wrong…why ask now? “I think your stress runs deeper than a simple shoulder massage can handle.” he adds when you look over your shoulder at him. 

“I mean…I trust your judgement Zhongli…whatever you think I need…” you mumble.

You expect a change in his technique, maybe working a little further down your spine perhaps?.

Not to suddenly be thrown forward, chest pressed against the dark mahogany of your desk by a single,strong hand against your spine to keep you there as you gasp in shock. 

“Z-Zhongli!?” you gasp, looking over your shoulder at your calm, gentle butler. 

Only to find a sharp, seductive smirk plastered to his lips. His golden eyes are dark, predatory, you should be afraid.

Keyword: Should.

You watch, dumbstruck as he licks his lips, ripping your jeans straight off your legs like they were nothing, his ungloved hand grazing up the back of your thigh, and that touch alone has your eyes rolling back and a half-bitten moan falling from your lips. Gods how long had it been?

“Hmm, needy little thing, aren’t we? Thrown against your desk by your own butler and you don't even have the decency to be afraid?” Zhongli chuckles darkly as he shoves two fingers into you; the mix of pleasure and pain is enough to have your spine arching “Looks like I was right…you do need more than a little massage hm?”

“G-god…please…” you whine, the humiliation of the situation only making you hotter as he roughly thrusts his fingers, occasionally scissoring them to stretch you open, his other hand shifting from your spine to wrap around the base of your neck, holding you still as he works you open. 

This new, rougher side to him…you didn’t know you wanted it...but god damn he was driving a hard bargain, plus it’s not like this wasn't something you may have thought about on a rare occasion or three… you’d just expected it to be…slower, gentler, but this? You could work with this. 

“Please…? Please what?” he purrs, leaning over to nip at your ear “what do you want from me? I am at your every beck and call.” His words are low, dangerous, but genuine, and you shudder.

“You-!” you choke “please g-god, Z-Zhongli I want you to fuck me-”

One moment there’s fingers, the next moment nothing, and you want to cry, the petulant whine only being held back by the sound of a belt buckle.

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing I’m at your service.” 

And then he roughly bucks his hips and good gods. 

Considering he wore such fitted trousers, where the hell had he been keeping that??

That mix of pleasure-pain is back, but more intense this time; you definitely had not been wet enough, and yet? You wouldn't have wanted it any other way, the pain added it’s own flavour to your desire as Zhongli pins you against your desk, breathing ragged into your ear as he wastes no time, setting a brutal pace from the start that has papers and stationary clattering off your desk. 

“So tight” he hisses “how long has it been since you’ve had a good fucking?” 

Something about Zhongli swearing like that feels so wrong, but oh, so right in the moment.

For a moment, paperwork and meetings are the furthest thing from your mind as Zhongli shoves you even further onto your desk, free hand hiking your hips up so he can slam into you all the harder, the only sounds emanating within your study are the wet slapping of skin, and your cries of ecstasy. 

He’s not gentle, and deep, deep down, you’re glad for it.

You needed this, spending every damn day for the last five years telling everyone else what to do? You needed this…loss of control.

Much like everything else in the last six months, Zhongli knew exactly what you needed, when you needed it, and before you even realised you needed it. 

“Whats the matter? Nothing to say?” He grunts into your ear as he grinds himself so deep into you, you’re seeing stars. “You’re always so talkative…”

You can only moan pathetically in response, eyelids fluttering as he fucks you down into the table, his words are harsh, and humiliating, but all they do is draw your orgasm closer, barely even registering what he’s saying.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, one moment you’re seeing stars as your butler bullies his massive cock into you, the next minute your world turns white.

—

“Shh, try not to move…I wasn’t gentle with you.” Zhongli’s tone is back to being kind and gentle after…how many orgasms did he just force you through? You’d lost count…all you know was that it had still been light out when he’d first shoved you down…now as he passes by a window with you cradled gently in his arms, it was pitch black outside.

Gentle lips press to your temple as he perches on the edge of the bathtub, holding you on his lap with one arm while he reaches over to get the water started. Wetting a washcloth to clean away a good portion of the mess beforehand.

Your body aches, but in the best possible way. You feel…breathless and comfortable, fuzzy. 

You wince as he lowers you into the hot water, your muscles tensing at the sudden heat before relaxing again. Zhongli watches you with a soft look. Even coming off the back end of some amazing sex, he still somehow managed to look stupidly put together, if not even more alluring with his lack of suit jacket; it had been abandoned sometime during round… three you think? One moment it was on, the next moment, you’re being pressed onto your back, the jacket is gone, and he’s rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows and you’re at his mercy.

The lip of a water bottle presses to your lips, his other hand gently supporting the back of your head as you drink.

“How do you feel?” he asks once you’ve drunk your fill for now, like that switch that had turned him from the kind and courteous butler you had known to….whatever that zhongli was, had never flipped at all.

Despite this, you smile at him.

“I feel like…I need to ask you to do that again more often, Zhongli.” 

To his credit, your ever-so-handsome butler laughs. It’s a warm, hearty sound, one that fills you with no small amount of joy.

“I am here to serve your every beck and call, I’m sure I can work this into the schedule.”

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

[danicamaximoff]

Pretend To Be Nice | Chapter Four

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Chapter Four: 70's Funk?

Summary: A few months after forming their band "The Pussycats", Hazel and her friends PJ and Josie get noticed by a record label, and are quickly skyrocketed into fame. It's a dream come true for them, and all three of their lives are flipped upside down. Their quick arrival on the scene quickly draws the attention of many other artists and bands, including a popular girl band called "Nymphology". Unfortunately for Hazel, a mix-up and unintentional awful encounter ends up creating tension between the two groups right before they all leave for Nymphology's upcoming tour. Now forced to frequently interact with someone who she was convinced couldn't stand her, Hazel is desperately trying to fix things with the band's lead guitarist. However it doesn't help that Y/N is actively avoiding Hazel as much as possible, and the fact that Hazel found her insanely hot definitely didn't make things any easier.

Warnings: angst, rockstar au, eventual smut, slowburn, swearing, occasional alcohol mentions/use

Word Count: 4377

“Should we get mac and cheese?” Josie asks as she pushes the shopping cart as her and Hazel wander through the grocery store aisles to get a few snacks and food for their hotel room.

“Like the microwave one or the stove one?” Hazel asks as she furrows her brows.

“Either one.” Josie says as she shrugs.

“Josie, we don't have a stove in the hotel.” Hazel says as she shakes her head. “Or literally any cooking items.”

“You can make boxed mac in the microwave, I do it all the time at Sarah Lawrence.” Josie says with a shrug as she looks at Hazel.

“That sounds disgusting.” Hazel says as she scrunches up her face a bit.

“I mean it tastes the same for the most part, mac is mac. You just have to get the shell ones or sometimes the noodles clump together and then I guess it’s a little weird.” Josie says as she grabs a few boxes of mac and cheese as well as the microwavable cups.

“Do you know when we hear from Wyatt if we get a record deal or not? Oh shit.” Hazel asks as she absentmindedly runs her hand along the shelf tags, eyes going wide as she accidentally knocks a few of them to the ground, mentally panicking as she immediately grabs them and starts trying to put them back in their spots. “Oh hey, we should get gummy worms too.”

“I mean the meeting is today, so we should find out soon.” Josie says as she shrugs. “What happens if they sign us?”

“I dunno? We make a record?” Hazel says as she looks over at Josie.

“No, like, are we staying in the hotel the whole time? I don’t want to live in a hotel.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“I mean we’d probably get an apartment, wouldn’t we?” Hazel says as she gets a confused look.

“I can’t afford Los Angeles!” Josie says as her eyes go wide in horror. “I can barely afford mac and cheese! How am I supposed to pay for an apartment?”

“Well they would pay us right? Plus it’s cool, if we get signed I can probably ask my mom to chip in or something. I’m pretty sure she has a beach house out here that she vacations at with boyfriends. My dad bought it for her when they were still together as an “I’m Sorry I Cheated” house. I heard them fighting about it in middle school.” Hazel says as she shrugs. “I can see if we can use it or something.”

“You never told me your dad cheated?” Josie asks with a confused and shocked look on her face.

“Well, yeah. You never asked, I didn’t think it was important.” Hazel says as she shrugs.

“I mean, you don’t have to, but I would tell you if something like that happened. You’re one of my best friends.” Josie says with a shrug.

“Wait, really?” Hazel says as she gets a surprised look on her face.

“Hazel, we’re literally in a band together and we hang out all the time.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a funny look.

“Yeah but I thought it’s mostly you and PJ doing stuff and me just tagging along.” Hazel says with a slightly confused look.

“What? No!” Josie says as she gives Hazel a confused look. “Hazel, you’re like the main reason the band exists, and I wouldn’t have come if you didn’t convince me.” Josie says as she shakes her head.

“PJ said you agreed to join the band because she said you’d get a girlfriend.” Hazel says as she frowns and gives Josie a confused look as well.

“Hazel, PJ says a lot of stuff.” Josie says as she rolls her eyes. “I love her, but she just talks to talk half the time. I never even wanted to be in a band, it scares the crap out of me, dude. I know I complained about the bowling alley a lot, but playing at the party was like the worst stage fright I’ve ever experienced.” Josie says as she shakes her head while grabbing a few grocery items off the shelves and into the cart she was pushing.

“But then why’d you-” Hazel starts to say before Josie cuts her off.

“Because I remembered you had always wanted to be in a band. Didn’t you have an obsession with Kiss or something when you were younger?” Josie says as she glances at Hazel.

  “I did, I went as Paul Simmons for Halloween one year.” Hazel says as she nods.

“See? That’s why I joined. You love music, and you do all the hard stuff like getting outfits and gigs and everything, I just have to show up and play, which is good because I think if I had any other responsibilities I would crumble under the pressure because I get anxious enough about performing.” Josie says as she shakes her head.

“I thought you guys didn’t like the cat ears?” Hazel says as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“I thought they were kind of fun.” Josie says as she shrugs. “I mean, I wouldn’t have cared if we didn’t wear them, but it was a cool idea. And people liked it and it fits with the band name.” Josie says as she shrugs. “I think it should be part of our outfits.”

“Wait, really?” Hazel asks as her face lights up with excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me I was the reason you joined?” 

“Because PJ takes over, so when she says we’re doing this to get girlfriends, you kind of just have to go along with it.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“I was never doing it to get a girlfriend. I just like the drums.” Hazel says as she furrows her brows.

“Yeah, but you can also say no to PJ, cause you don’t care. She’s my best friend so I just kind of go along with things after a bit.” Josie says as she shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Hazel says as she shrugs, before realizing something irrelevant to the conversation. “Oh I forgot to tell you, that girl you like is at the same studio as us. You know, the one from Nymphology with the like-” Hazel starts to say as she gestures at her chest where hair would be if she had long hair, but Josie cuts her off as she starts nervously laughing.

“Oh my god, please don’t remind me!” Josie says as she stops walking and leans her head against her arms as they rest on the shopping cart. “I already met her, and I almost threw up.” 

“What? You threw up?!” Hazel asks in shock as she gives Josie an alarmed look.

“No! God I would die if I did! I wasn’t being serious! I was just a total idiot when I talked to her!” Josie says as her eyes go wide and she shakes her head.

“What’d you say? I mean it probably wasn’t that bad, you’re a very likeable person.” Hazel says as her face scrunches up in confusion.

“Well I saw her, and I choked on the water I was drinking, and then she came over and asked if I was okay, and I said yeah, and then she was like “I’m Isabel” and I was like “I’m Josie” and then I stared at her for like a second and then looked away, and then I asked if she liked water because I couldn’t think of anything to say.” Josie says awkwardly as she looks up at the ceiling.

“Well did she?” Hazel asks.

“Did she what?” Josie asks Hazel with a confused look.

“Did she like water?” Hazel says as she looks at Josie expectantly.

“Yes. She did. Everyone does, Hazel, you need it to live.” Josie says as she looks at Hazel a bit in disbelief. 

“Well now you have something in common!” Hazel says as she smiles a bit, clearly thinking she was being helpful, as Josie sighs and shakes her head.

“We gotta work on how you comfort people, dude.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“What’s wrong with how I comfort people?” Hazel says as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“It’s not that there’s something wrong, you just-” Josie says before sighing. “I just mean that if you weren’t one of my best friends and I didn’t know you, I would think you’re being a dick and making fun of me.”

“Oh, really? I thought that would be helpful, cause now you have something in common with her.” Hazel says as she shrugs. 

“I-” Josie starts to say before stopping and sighing a bit. “Thank you Hazel, that actually is helpful.” Josie says as she nods, though she definitely was just saying that to not make Hazel sad.

“Oh really? Sick!” Hazel says with a grin. “Oh you know what you should do? Mention moss! Because it can help you find water! And then you have two things to talk about!” Hazel says excitedly as they continue shopping.

“Hi mom!” Hazel says into the phone excitedly from her hotel room, feeling like she was about to pass out. She had just got back from the meeting with the record label, and The Pussycats had officially been signed for a three year contract, and if their first album did well, then that would most likely be extended. They started recording the rest of the album tomorrow, and the label agreed to pay for the hotel for the time being until the three of them found a place to live in. 

“Hi sweetheart! How are you!” Hazel’s mom says into the phone, sounding like she was yelling for some reason.

“Are you yelling? Why are you talking weird?” Hazel says with a confused tone.

“I’m on my elliptical right now, but I have a face mask and I’m doing that cucumber thing on my eyes! Annie said it will help with my bags and the dark circles! Annie, say hi to Hazel!” Her mom says over the phone, talking to her best friend Annie.

“Hi Hazel! How’s college?” Annie says in the background.

“No, Annie, she’s not at Sarah Lawerence right now, for that… that band thing.” Hazel’s mom says over the phone.

“Oh that’s right! How’s LA? Have you met Robert Downey Jr. yet?” Annie asks in the background, yelling as well.

“I’m here for music stuff, not movies.” Hazel says into the phone as she shakes her head.

“It could happen! If you meet him, tell him I’m single!” Annie yells, which makes Hazel roll her eyes.

“Yeah, sure, okay anyways, mom can I tell you my news now?” Hazel says impatiently.

“Yes, of course sweetheart! What is it? Annie shut up.” Her mom says over the phone.

“We got a record deal! The contract is for three years!” Hazel says excitedly, and her mother gasps over the phone.

“Oh my goodness! That’s amazing!” Her mom yells over the phone, though still clearly exercising as she talks. “Annie, did you hear that? Hazel’s going to be a musician!” 

“Yeah, I know! We start recording the album tomorrow!” Hazel says excitedly as she grins.

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart!” Her mom yells. “Siri! Siri! Si-Ri!” Her mom beggins yelling clearly trying to get her phone’s voice assistant to activate. “Annie why is Siri not working?” 

“Mom, why do you need Siri?” Hazel asks as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“I need to set a reminder to book a flight to LA!” She says to Hazel.

“What? Why?” Hazel asks, clearly confused by her mother’s sudden plans.

“Hazel, you’re going to be famous! I want to be there to see my little Witch Hazel spread her wings!” Her mom says into the phone, using a nickname from when Hazel was little, which makes Hazel groan.

“Mom, please stop calling me that! I’m not five anymore!” Hazel says with embarrassment.

“Siri! Siri! Oh for Christ's sake, Annie, I’m taking the cucumbers off.” Hazel’s mom says, before shuffling noise is heard as she seemingly grabs the phone. “Let me find a good flight, and I’ll fly out as soon as I can sweetheart!” She says excitedly, her voice significantly closer to the phone and not yelling as much since she was now holding the phone.

“No, mom you really don’t-” Hazel starts to say before her mom cuts her off.

“Do you girls need somewhere to stay? I assume you can’t be in a hotel the whole time.” Hazel’s mom says over the phone, which makes Hazel perk up.

“Yeah, actually! That’s part of why I called, I was wondering if we can rent out the beach house or something instead of getting an apartment, because PJ and Josie can’t afford rent out here.” Hazel says quickly. “We’d take really good care of it! We wouldn’t ruin it!”

“Oh, yeah, of course! We can sign you up for surfing lessons too, so you can be a California girl and get the full experience!” Hazel’s mom says with an excited tone.

“Oh I don’t really-” Hazel starts to say before she gets cut off again.

“No, no, no, trust me! You’ll want surfing lessons sweetheart! It’s very rockstar! Plus the instructors are usually hot. I had one a few years ago, what was his name?” Hazel’s mom says as she thinks for a second. “Well, I can’t remember, but I do remember he was very hot! We hooked up a lot that summer, he-” Hazel’s mom starts to say, before Hazel cuts her off.

“Ew, mom! I don’t want to hear about that!” Hazel says with a disgusted look on her face.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Her mom says defensively. “I’m just saying! They’re usually very hot!”

“Mom, I don’t even like men, you know this!” Hazel says, still disgusted at the topic.

“There’s girl instructors too!” Hazel’s mom says over the phone.

“Mom- I- No! I don’t- Can we go back to talking about the beach house?” Hazel says as she stumbles over her words.

“Alright, alright! I’m letting it go! Of course you can use the beach house sweetheart, we can work out all the details when I fly out. Anyways I have to go, I have a decorative bead making class in an hour and I have to change out of my workout clothes. I’ll text you the flight plans once I book it! I love you!” Hazel’s mom says before hanging up the phone, leaving Hazel confused.

“Decorative bead making class?” Hazel says to herself with confusion as Josie and PJ enter the hotel room.

“Hazel, there were the hottest girls at the pool just now, one of them was totally into me! I told you guys this was a good idea!” PJ says excitedly as she throws her towel down on one of the chairs in the hotel room.

“They looked at us like once, PJ.” Josie says as she gives PJ a look.

“Yeah and it was a “I’m totally into you” kind of look!” PJ says as she throws her arms up and looks at Josie. “Oh, Hazel, have you called your mom yet?” She asks as she flops down on the couch.

“Yeah! She said we can move into the beach house!” Hazel says with a smile.

“Fuck yeah!” PJ says excitedly as she punches the air.

“Hey guys? Have we like, put thought into what songs are going on the album?” Josie asks as she grabs a soda from the mini fridge.

“Shit!” PJ says as she sits up a bit.

“I mean I have, but it’s not-” Hazel starts to say as PJ cuts her off.

“Write it down! We need to have a plan for tomorrow! Fuck, Josie! Why’d you make me go to the pool!” PJ says as she panics a bit, as Josie throws her arm up in annoyance, as going to the pool had been PJ’s idea.

“Fuck, that’s not right.” Hazel says as she frowns and scribbles out the notes she wrote on the music sheet. She bites on her pencil for a moment as she thinks, before setting it down and readjusting the electric guitar she was holding and playing different note sequences over again as she tries to figure out the guitar part for a song.

She was currently the only one in the studio, PJ and Josie had left about thirty minutes ago to go grab dinner, but Hazel had stayed behind, determined to figure out this new song they were working on that had her stumped. She had already figured out the general beat and the chorus, but the more fine details and actual instrumentals to the song was frustrating her, as she couldn’t seem to figure out a vibe that she liked and matched with the vision she had for the song. Josie and PJ had tried to convince her to take a break, but she refused to leave until she figured this out, so here she was, alone with one of the electric guitars as she ran over the same section over and over again, trying to come up with something she liked. 

It had been about a week and a half since being signed, and they had been working constantly on the album, picking which songs, discussing with Wyatt, and had even decided to come up with a few new ones per Wyatt’s suggestion, giving them advice and his thoughts on what the album was missing. 

Staring off into space, she hums the general vibe of the song she had so far to herself, her fingers absentmindedly tap against the base of the guitar as she bites her lip a bit and thinks. Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice the sound of the door to the studio opening as she begins playing another random string of notes on the guitar, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“Is that for the album?” Y/N asks from the door, as she leans against the doorframe, making Hazel jump in her seat a bit.

“Oh my god, hi!” She says as she quickly turns and sees Y/N, heart immediately racing.

“Hi.” Y/N says as she grins softly. “They leave you in here by yourself?” She asks as she looks around at the empty recording studio.

“Oh, yeah. Josie and PJ went to go grab food but I wanted to stay and work on this new song we’re writing.” Hazel says as she smiles, trying not to show how nervous she is.

“Can I hear it? I promise I won’t steal it.” Y/N says with a small laugh, a teasing grin on her face that makes Hazel’s stomach do cartwheels.

“Oh it’s not- I mean- it’s- I’m still working on it. It’s in shambles right now.” Hazel says, nervously stumbling over her words.

“That’s okay, I won’t judge.” Y/N says with a laugh as she shakes her head. 

“Oh, I mean- uh, yeah sure, if you really want to then.” Hazel says as she nods a bit.

“Yeah, show me what you got so far.” She says with a smile as she walks inside, the studio door closing behind her as she goes and sits down on one of the chairs near Hazel.

“Okay, yeah. Um, so this song is supposed to be like towards the end of the album kind of. A lot of our songs are like in the alternative category, but Wyatt said we should add more variety to what we have so far, so we added a few slower ones, and for this one, PJ said she wanted it to be more “funky” but not 70’s, and I don’t really know what that means. We don’t even have all the lyrics either, it’s very unfinished right now.” Hazel says as she nervously runs a hand through her hair, avoiding eye contact with Y/N.

“What are you working on right now?” Y/N asks as she scoots a bit closer to see what Hazel had written down so far. “I can try and help if you want.”

“Really?” Hazel asks as she looks at her in shock.

“Yeah.” Y/N says as she smiles and nods her head. “Nymphology finished recording for the day, I was heading out but I saw someone was in here so I wanted to say hi in case it was you.” 

“Why me?” Hazel asks, both in shock and confusion.

“Well we didn’t really get to talk a few weeks ago, and I’m curious about the moss thing now, because I think it was Josie? But anyways, one of the girls in my band is named Isabel, and apparently Josie brought up moss the other day.” Y/N says as she laughs a bit. “I’m just curious now if that’s like a friend group thing or not.”

“No! It’s not! It’s my thing! I told Josie about it because she likes Isabel so I said she should bring up moss because they both like water, so it connects, and that’s what I do.” Hazel says quickly as she shakes her head, before her eyes go wide as she realizes what she said. “Shoot, don’t tell her I said that.” She says as Y/N laughs.

“So you bring up moss as a flirting tactic?” Y/N asks with a grin, which makes Hazel panic.

“What? What- No! No, I don’t- Sometimes, but like-” Hazel says as she immediately stumbles over her words and blushes a bit. “Anyways the song!” She says quickly as she turns back to the paper she had been writing on. What is wrong with me?! She thinks to herself as Y/N giggles. She was rarely like this around girls. Fuck. She seriously needed to ignore the fact that Y/N was super pretty and get her game back. Except when she actually thought about it, that was definitely very impossible. Double fuck. “Anyways, this is the part I’m trying to figure out right now.” Hazel says as she nervously runs her hand through her hair again before readjusting the guitar again, internally just a jumbled mess on nerves and anxiety as she begins playing what she had so far on the guitar.

“And your friend said she wanted it to be what? Funky but not 70’s?” Y/N asks after thinking for a minute, a quizzical expression on her face.

“Yeah.” Hazel says softly as she avoids eye contact, glancing all over, eyes falling on Y/N’s shoes though, as the red converse had a lot of doodles all over them.

“Can I see what else you have?” Y/N asks, a bit more serious now as Hazel hands her the papers and notes without saying anything. She reads over, her fingers tapping against the paper as she figures out the beat and the drum parts Hazel had so far. “I think the only “funky” kind of part should be the guitar. But even then less funky and more fun. Do you listen to Paramore?” She asks as she looks over at Hazel.

“Wh- Yeah, I do.” Hazel says as her head snaps up and she nods.

“I don’t know if this will make sense, but maybe coming up with something that sounds like how their album cover for After Laughter looks?” Y/N says as she shrugs and furrows her brows a bit.

“I- That does actually, yeah.” Hazel says as she nods.

“Like, hold on, let me think.” Y/N says as she furrows her brows for a moment. “Can I see that quick?” She asks as she gestures to the guitar. 

“Oh, yeah, here.” Hazel says as she hands her the guitar, heart unintentionally racing a bit as their hands accidentally brush against each other.

They spend a while going over random chord progressions and different melodies, until after a while, they had created a pretty solid backbone for the guitar part of the song, that Hazel and the others could flesh out more later. As time goes on Hazel gradually relaxes more, being able to focus on the song and music helping her distract herself from her nerves, and allowing her to start cracking jokes more and actually engage in conversation outside of the song and music stuff.

By the time Josie and PJ arrive, Y/N was telling Hazel about crazy fan experiences, and wild things that had happened to her and her friends over the years, laughing as she mentions the time she had created a fake twitter account and started beef with herself and how pissed the fans got at her burner account. 

“Hey, Hazel- Oh. Hi?” PJ says as she walks in, doing a double take when she sees Y/N.

“Hi.” Y/N says with a smile as she looks over at PJ and Josie. “I’m Y/N. I’m friends with Hazel.” She says as she smiles and gestures to Hazel, the statement making Hazel smile.

“We know. You’re in Nymphology.” Josie says as she nods a bit nervously.

“Mhmm.” Y/N says with a nod. “You’re Josie, right?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Josie says as she nods.

“Isabel’s told me about you.” Y/N says with a small giggle, making Josie blush and get a nervous smile on her face as she looks away, clearly worried about the fact Isabel had mentioned her to her bandmates.

“I’m PJ!” PJ quickly says as she stares at Y/N.

“Anyways, um, you should probably go, thanks for the help.” Hazel says quickly as she gathers the papers scattered around them.

“Oh, yeah of course, anytime.” Y/N says with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks. It was fun, I’ll see you soon probably.” Hazel says as she quickly gets up, immediately nervous and embarrassed again now that PJ and Josie were there.

“If you need any more help, let me know. It was nice meeting you guys.” Y/N says to Hazel before turning and smiling to PJ and Josie as she walks out, shutting the door behind her after waving bye.

“What the fuck?” PJ says in shock as her and Josie immediately look at Hazel, who was now heavily blushing as she fiddles with the shirt she was wearing.

I genuinely love writing this story its sm fun. I love Hazel she's so cute. Also I fr have no clue how record label stuff works so I'm kinda just pulling this out of my ass lmao. I'm like "yeah I watched Daisy Jones and The Six and can google basic steps for this, good enough" and then just hoped it would be accurate dfdhsfkjhej. dividers from @saradika and @animatedglittergraphics-n-more graphic made by me lol

[ordinaryschmuck]

Full Family AU Part 14

Luz laid on the floor of her bedroom, coloring more of her drawing while kicking her feet up in the air.

"I have a sister who looks exactly like me~!" she sang. "I have a sister who's name is--"

"Luz?"

Luz looked away from her drawing and saw Camila poking her head into the room. "Hola, Mami!" Luz chirped. "Can I come down now?"

"Well, maybe, if you want," Camila said. "I just wanted to let you know that neither me or your father are in the mood to cook tonight, so Papi went out to pick something up for all of us."

"That's okay!"

"As for me, I'm going to try and focus on doing a bit more research on...things. So I need you to do something."

Camila then opened the door more, revealing Vee clinging to her leg. She's still human and wearing the yellow dress from Luz's drawing, but now Vee looked a lot less skittish than she she was before. She was still clinging to Camila like a lifeline, but seemed a lot lighter now, emotionally speaking. She still had Manny's jacket over her shoulders, though.

"Could you play with Vee for a bit?" Camila asked. "Keep her company while I work."

"Sure!" Luz excitedly said. Camila urged Vee to go inside and the disguised creature did her best, stumbling and wobbling her way over to Luz that made her chuckle a bit. "You're not good at walking."

Vee blushed. "Sorry..."

"It's okay, I can teach you!" Luz proudly stood up. "I've been doing this my entire life."

"I wish," Camila said with a grin. "It was a nightmare teaching you to walk. Anyways, have fun, girls. I'll just be in the other room if you need me."

She walks away, the door still wide open.

"Alright," Luz said to Vee. "Walking is simple. You just stick your foot out and put it back on the ground. Just a little further away from you. Like this!"

She tried demonstrating her walking by taking long strides, making a circle around Vee while practically stomping her feet.

"See? It's easy! You try!"

Vee stared at Luz for a bit longer and looked down at her own feet. Carefully, all while keeping her balance, Vee tried copying Luz's movements. And while she still stumbled a bit, she eventually started mimicking Luz's stride.

"Wow, you're a natural!" Luz exclaimed. "Soon, you'll be a walking champion!"

"Champion?"

"Cham! Pi! On!" Luz cheered.

Vee started to giggle a little bit, but was surprised by the noise as if she never made it before. Unfortunately, due to the shock, Vee tripped over her new feet, falling face first into Luz's drawings.

"Oh, my gosh, Vee!" Luz crouched down next to her, helping Vee up into a sitting position. "Are you okay?"

Vee sniffed. "Sorry..."

"Oh, that's okay. You did great for a beginner. And I've been tripping my whole life too. Papi says it's because my brain moves faster than my body."

"What does that mean?"

Luz shrugged. "He also says it's good to recali...Recalla...Re...call...eee...brate? I don't know what he actually says. It's a big, big word. But whenever my dad says it, he has me do this."

Luz stood up and started shaking her body around. Her arms flailed, her head wobbled, and her legs kicked around for a bit. It freaked Vee out for a bit, but once Luz started making a funny noise as she let loose her tongue, it made her giggle some more.

"Come on," Luz told her. "You try."

"Um...Okay." Vee stood up and tried to do the exact same thing as Luz, even making the noise. They both kept this up for a few seconds longer before they started to wobble a bit. "Dizzy..." Vee groaned.

"That's how you know it's working...!"

They both plopped onto the floor with little "Oofs." After a while of staring up at the ceiling, Luz started to laugh, with Vee joining in with some more light giggles.

"That was fun!" Luz sat back up. "Now, with our brains recallalalala-tated, wanna color with me?"

"I don't know." Vee sat up too. "She didn't seem to like what I drew."

"Who?"

"The, uh, the big lady? With the glass on her face? Cami...Camill..."

"You mean Mami?" Luz asked, to which Vee nodded in response. "Yeah, Mami's happy face and fake happy face are two different things. She thinks they're not, but they are. Ooh, but if you need help learning how to color too, I can definitely do that too!"

She takes a crayon and a new piece of paper, already starting her next "masterpiece."

"Papi taught me how to draw, I can teach you what I know."

Vee hummed in thought and crawled over to sit next to Vee, looking over her shoulder as she drew. And once more, she felt that warmness in her heart as she did.

[inawickedlittletown]

Don't Make A Shadow Of Yourself (BuckTommy fic) - 9/12

Summary: "A man who's pure of heart...may still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright" - Howl (F+TM)

BuckTommy Werewolf AU. Throughout most of his adult life, Tommy had dealt with what he was. The duality of being a man and also an animal…a beast. Werewolves weren’t born, they were made. 

Words: 3,850

Read on Ao3

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight

-

Chapter Nine

Arms wrapped around Buck’s middle over the apron he’d thrown on before he started cooking. Tommy’s chin dropped to his shoulder and Buck leaned back into the strong chest behind him. 

“I don’t know what smells better,” Tommy said, voice low.

“Hmm?” 

Tommy responded by giving Buck a sniff. Buck couldn’t help but laugh. Tommy’s hold on him tightened for a moment before he kissed Buck’s neck and let go. Buck couldn’t deny that it felt hard to get back to cooking when he knew that Tommy was within reach. But, he’d promised to cook for Tommy for their third date — Buck was counting the two of them hanging out and making out on his couch after the hang out at Hen and Karen’s as the second date — and he was not going to burn down their food. Especially not when it had taken them almost a full two weeks to find the time for this date to take place. 

“How can I help?” Tommy asked. 

“Open the wine?” 

Buck meanwhile got busy with plating up the chicken stirfry. It had seemed like one of the easiest and tastiest dishes to make, especially since Buck had finally perfected making rice. It didn’t take long for them to be seated. 

“This looks amazing,” Tommy said. “Thank you for doing all this.” 

“I enjoyed doing this for us,” Buck said. 

Tommy ducked his head. No one would ever think that a man like Tommy could be bashful or lack confidence because he didn’t come off that way. As far as Buck was concerned, it was because Tommy hid it well. He just tended to drop those walls around Buck and Buck appreciated that more than anything, he knew how hard it was to open up to be vulnerable. 

“How did it go with Maddie today?” Tommy asked. 

The wedding was drawing ever near and Buck had jumped in to help Maddie with anything she still needed help with. In a little over a week their parents were arriving and considering the full moon, Buck was going to do his best to put his distance between them. A part of him kind of hated that Maddie was still trying to have any kind of relationship with them, to expose Jee to them. He always had to remind himself that he had a very different relationship with his parents than the one that Maddie had with them. 

“She finally settled on the flowers,” Buck said. “I never knew she could be so picky about flowers.” 

“It’s a wedding, Evan. Brides get picky about everything.” 

Buck nodded slowly. “I know. I mean her last wedding wasn’t anything like this…none of us were even there. I don’t think I ever want to have a huge wedding like this.”

Tommy paused, fork halfway to his mouth. He coughed. 

Buck knew he was blushing and it wasn’t fair how easily Tommy could cause him to blush. 

“Is that a hint for the future?” Tommy asked, carefully. “I mean, we’re nowhere near marriage but—”

Buck reached over to hit his shoulder lightly. “No. Just in general…why throw such a lavish party when the thing that matters is really the start of the marriage. I think Maddie got swept up in the whole thing and I don’t blame her exactly.” 

“Big party doesn’t mean they’re not both equally if not more excited about what comes next.” 

Buck took a bite of his food. The strange part of it was that he could see him and Tommy lasting. It was far too early to think it, much less voice it, and yet it was there. Their connection. They were literally in the middle of their second date, but it felt like they had been together longer than that. It felt like they were meant to be together maybe even forever. 

“Hey,” Buck said. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you want to be my date to the wedding?” 

Tommy stared at him, a little surprised, but Buck could tell that he was pleased by the question. 

“I know Chim invited you, but I want to sit with you and I want to dance with you and I don’t want to hide this. So, what do you say to our next date being my sister’s wedding?” 

Tommy chuckled, and he reached his hand out to Buck. “I want to say yes, but a week ago you warned me off your parents.”

And Buck still hadn’t told him about them. He hadn’t had the time or known just quite how to explain. He had fully planned to when they got to his place that other night, but they’d both been a little distracted. Buck couldn’t even remember what movie they had tried to watch, though he did remember the taste of Tommy’s lips and his neck. 

“I’m not worried about them finding out I’m dating a guy,” Buck said. “I don’t know how they’ll react about it and I don’t care.”

Tommy looked at him, took in Evan’s determination. So he nodded. “Sure. I’ll be your date.”

Evan smiled really wide. Even his eyes looked like they were shinning. 

“You really don’t care what your parents will say?” Tommy asked. 

“I don’t.”

“But it matters if they find out you’re a Werewolf,” Tommy said. 

Buck nodded. He tightened his grip on Tommy’s hand. Gulped. Then: “My parents are hunters,” Buck said. 

“Hunters as in…” Tommy trailed off. 

“As in Werewolf hunters,” Buck said. 

“That’s a real thing,” Tommy said as if Buck were talking about Santa Claus or Bigfoot. 

He watched Tommy as he processed the information. It wasn’t the easiest thing to understand. Even Buck still grappled with it. After leaving them behind, he’d never quite left behind the worry for what they might be up to. There was never concrete proof as far as he could tell and when the Werewolf Division did nothing about it, Buck had sort of figured there had to be a reason. 

Buck still remembered when he told Eddie. It was right before his parents came out to see Maddie when she was pregnant. Buck had wanted Eddie to be careful just in case and he himself had had to keep himself in check the whole time. They had made it extremely difficult, and Buck had only showed up because Maddie was begging him to. He’d almost lost it with them a few times and he was lucky they hadn’t figured him out from that alone, but he would have been justified for the things they’d kept from him. He would have been justified if he just wolfed out and proved to them the monstrous side of a Werewolf. Somehow, he’d been able to hold it in. It had gone better the second time they came — of course he’d been in a coma for a part of that and they’d been busy getting to know Jee Yun. 

“Evan, where did you go just now? You said they don’t know you are a Werewolf.”

“They don’t,” Buck said. “I just…I know what they’ve done to Werewolves. I found out when I was a kid. Eleven or so. I didn’t know until a few years ago why.”

Tommy’s hand gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Buck shook his head. He hated thinking about it, about the way that it had messed him up and how he had wanted absolutely nothing to do with his parents afterwards. Still didn’t. Their apologies and explanations hadn’t meant much to Buck then and they hadn’t meant much when he saw them again the second time they came to visit. Maddie could keep her relationship with them — Buck wouldn’t tell her not to — but he couldn’t. He knew she was conflicted too, but for Maddie it was a bit different. After the wedding, unless Maddie asked him to, Buck didn’t think he would actually see his parents again. 

“I want to,” Buck said. 

Tommy nodded. “Alright.” 

“I had a brother,” Buck said. “His name was Daniel.” 

Tommy looked at him with a confused expression. Buck almost laughed. 

“It’s relevant,” Buck said and he reached for his wine glass to take a few sips. He focused on tasting the wine, but also on Tommy’s thumb on the back of his hand. 

“Okay. So, you had a brother.”

“I didn’t know about Daniel until a few years ago. I don’t think my parents would have ever told me about him. Maddie kept it from me as well…but it came out and the reason I never knew about him was that he died.”

“Oh, Evan,” Tommy said. 

It was strange, was the thing. Like mourning a stranger because he’d never known Daniel and he’d never known anything other than the way that he grew up with Maddie and distracted, traumatized parents who never moved past their grief and excused their actions with it. He felt something like sadness for a boy that never got to grow up, but he never knew him.

“He was diagnosed with Leukemia,” Buck continued. “My parents were desperate and so when it turned out neither them or Maddie were bone marrow matches they, uh, they—”

“They had you,” Tommy filled in. “You were a savior sibling.”

Buck nodded. He still didn’t quite know how to feel about it. He imagined that if it had worked out things would have been different. Maybe he would have been there as spare parts whenever his brother needed them — or perhaps even vice versa considering who Buck was. Instead, his parents had seen the whole thing as an effort to save Daniel that failed and maybe they had never fully seen Buck as more than that even when he wasn’t to blame. Not a replacement son, not the kid they wanted, but the failed experiment. 

“It didn’t work,” Buck said. “Well, Maddie got to look at the paperwork from the hospital so he rejected the bone marrow. It, uh, it didn’t matter in the end.” 

“Evan, I am so sorry,” Tommy said. 

Buck gulped. He looked at the remaining food on the table, but neither of them seemed to be interested in eating anything else. 

“So, Daniel died?” 

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, he did. But not because he was sick. Daniel died from a Werewolf attack,” Buck said. 

Tommy looked exactly like someone that had just gotten punched completely out of the blue. It was the twist that Buck hadn’t seen coming when Maddie finally explained everything. Buck had been so angry with her. Because it was one thing when he knew that the older brother that he didn’t know existed had died while sick, it was another to find out that he’d been killed. Attacked. By a Werewolf no less. 

“What?” Tommy asked. 

“I don’t know how it happened. They didn’t explain and Maddie doesn’t know, but he got attacked. Mauled. According to Maddie there was so little left of him that they couldn’t even have a proper funeral for him.”

“And they became Werewolf Hunters,” Tommy said. 

“Yes,” Buck said. “I, uh, I reported them to the Werewolf Division of Pennsylvania when I left but clearly nothing happened. It’s not like the Division ever warned about hunters.”

“No they don’t,” Tommy said thoughtfully. “I didn’t know actual hunters existed.” 

—

In all his time as a Werewolf, Tommy had never known that Werewolf hunters were a thing. No Werewolf that he had ever met before had mentioned them and neither had the division. Evan’s story, the full explanation for why he was acting the way he was about his parents, it hurt. It hurt because it hurt Evan. He could tell that there was a deep scar left behind on Evan due to all of it. Because while Evan hadn’t said it, it had been there in the way he talked about them. They had never cherished him or loved him the way that he deserved. Instead, their grief had led them to hunt the very thing that Evan would become. 

If it were up to Tommy they would be kept far far away from Evan. Tommy could hardly understand how Evan had any type of contact with them and worse why Maddie would be okay with bringing them anywhere near Evan knowing what he was and what they were. 

“What?” Evan asked. 

“Your sister is okay with all this?”

“Uh, what do you mean?”

Tommy stared at him incredulously. “First I just thought you had a bad relationship with them, but now that I know it’s this I just…how is she still okay with them being a literal threat to your life?” 

Tommy didn’t know Maddie that well, but he’d always gotten the sense that she and Evan were close. Howie was clearly marrying her for a reason. She wasn’t bad people. The opposite, in fact. So this didn’t make sense to Tommy.  

Evan took a breath. “Maddie was there when Daniel died. She was there when he got sick and she was there when he died. I think she understands it differently. It’s not that she agrees with them, and she wouldn’t let them do anything to hurt me…they’re still our parents.”

There was something absolutely misguided about it. Then again, Tommy’s own family life was better left in the past. He couldn’t help his own very protective feelings about Evan, though. They had been horrible parents and as far as he was concerned horrible people too. 

“I don’t think I can understand that, not when they’re what you’re saying they are. Evan, they hurt people…they’ve done more than that.” 

Evan hung his head. “I know. I know.”

“Why are they allowed to get away with that?” 

“I don’t know,” Evan said. “The Division did nothing about them when I gave them a warning. I’m afraid to ask why they did nothing.”

Tommy frowned. “Evan, how many people have they hurt?”

“I don’t know,” Evan said. “I don’t want to know.” 

Tommy didn’t want to step on any toes, he didn’t want to force Evan to do anything he might not want to do, but that didn’t mean that any of this was okay and looking at Evan, he was sure that he would agree. 

“Have you ever told Athena?”

“Not in full,” Buck said. “Eddie knows. They all know I don’t get along with them but I’ve never…”

“Maybe you should.”

“I kept up with news from Hershey for a while,” Evan said, he looked a little far away. “Wanted to see if any suspicious deaths were ever reported. That type of thing. I think it made me feel better when I didn’t see any. Some of the missing person reports haunted me, though. Sometimes I tried to figure out if they were Werewolves or not.”

“Evan,” Tommy said. 

Evan’s eyes shot to him. 

“Evan, you aren’t to blame for what they’ve done.” 

“I could have done more to stop them.” 

Tommy shook his head. “No. They could have handled things better. They could have put all the energy they put into hunting to being yours and Maddie’s parents. And I really…I hate to question Maddie’s reasons but why is she bringing them back into your lives like this.” 

From how Tommy had understood it, both Maddie and Evan had left their parents behind. Maddie to marry the first husband that didn’t turn out to be a good guy, and Evan to wander the country until he found a place on the other side of the country to settle down in. 

“When Maddie got pregnant she felt like she needed to tell them,” Evan said. “I hated her for saying anything to them. It was covid, too, so I guess maybe that made her look at things differently. Plus, she knew them differently. Knew them before Daniel died. She’s not a Werewolf either so…”

“None of that makes it okay,” Tommy said. 

Evan finished the wine in his glass. “I guess I decided to just let her have them as long as I wasn’t involved. It’s how I even found out about Daniel in the first place. Maddie was pregnant and I didn’t want to add to her stress, but I didn’t speak to her for a week.”

Tommy could see how conflicted Evan was. It was the thing that allowed him to not push and to keep to himself how offended he felt on Evan’s behalf. 

“So that’s my parents,” Evan said. “The whole story. They tried to teach me their ways, it’s how I got so interested in Werewolves. They just never wanted to hear anything I said about them, not when it contradicted their whole belief system.” 

Evan stood up, then. Tommy reluctantly let go of his hand. 

“We should clean up,” Evan said and it felt like a way to put an end to the subject. 

Tommy didn’t mind. He liked that Evan had felt like he could share with him, that Tommy could handle the baggage of Evan’s family life. One day, Tommy would tell him all about his parents. How his dad had expected certain things from him and how his mother hadn’t really cared about anything including Tommy. But that would be a different day. 

Together they cleaned up the table and then did dishes and put away leftovers. Tommy loved every second of it. The way that they brushed past each other and how they would linger in each other’s space. The way that Evan kissed his cheek in passing or swatted his ass with a kitchen towel. 

It lifted the gloom of their earlier conversation, dropping them back into the ease of how they were with each other. The warmth and the comfort and the acceptance.  

Afterwards, they went out to the terrace, each of them holding a glass of wine. It was nice and windy out, the night dark but the light pollution from the city would never let them see more than the moon and maybe the shinier planets. Back when he was still with the 118, Tommy had often gone out to a spot outside of LA to stare at the sky. He didn’t really study astronomy enough to know the constellations really well, but he could admire the beauty nonetheless. He could also admire the moon. 

“No one knows why she affects us like she does,” Evan said as he sat down. “There was a book I read once that called it a curse, something that tied Werewolves to the moon that also made us possible. That book said a lot of things.”

“Yeah, like what?” 

Evan was blushing, he could see it even in the dim light as he moved the chair closer to Evan’s before he sat down. 

“It, uh, it talked about the usual things. Silver. The moon. Packs. Alphas. It also talked about mates.”

“Mates?” Tommy repeated. 

“It’s all story,” Evan said. “I’m sure you’ve come across it. Just that some Werewolves find strong compatibility with other Werewolves. They could form a kind of magical bond or something, a thing that linked them. The book called them mates. It also said that packs had to have an Alpha and that’s definitely not a thing. It’s not even a thing among regular wolves.” 

Tommy frowned at Evan. “It isn’t?” 

Evan shook his head. “Only when wolves are studied in captivity. Out in the wild, most packs are just a family. They’re all related wolves and if there is leadership it’s the parents of all the baby wolves — the male and female wolf of breeding age. You know, it’s kind of the reason they mate for life. In captivity, they’re not studying a pack as much as individual wolves thrown together. Why wouldn’t there be a fight to be on top. Wolves aren’t solitary and Werewolves certainly aren’t.”

“No we’re not,” Tommy agreed. “That’s interesting, though.” 

“What?” 

“Everything. Wouldn’t be the worst thing to have a mate.” 

Evan laughed, but he gave a short nod. His cheeks were still pink. If Werewolves actually did have mates, there was no doubt in Tommy’s mind that his would have been Evan. 

“There’s this book series about Werewolves,” Evan said. “Wolfsong is the first book. Each of the Werewolves meets their mate and it’s like this crazy strong connection. There’s so much that the author gets wrong and yet there’s things he gets really right too.” 

“Oh?” Tommy asked. 

“You’d probably like it, come to think of it. I only picked it up because I was consuming everything Werewolf at one point, even this Werewolf romance,” Evan said and then he laughed. 

“What?” 

“It’s just…I never thought about it but I think all the wolves in the book are queer. How did I not remember that…”

Tommy was suddenly a lot more interested. He was definitely more of a movie or tv-show kinda guy, but he picked up a book here or there when someone recommended it. Usually it was a thriller that Melton or one of the others at the 217 were obsessing over. As much as he loved a romcom, it just felt different to read romance especially when it was het and even more so when it got more graphic than was necessary. The last few years had brought more quality lgbtq books and Tommy had a small pile of books for when he had nothing left to watch or re-watch. He’d be adding this Werewolf book to his list. In fact, he pulled his phone out to look it up. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Looking for that series.” 

He found it after a quick google search and turned immediately to Evan. “This was written by TJ Klune.” 

“I guess so,” Evan said. “I didn’t remember the author.” 

“He wrote one of my favorite books,” Tommy said. “I have no idea how I didn’t know about this series.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to lose you for a little while to reading,” Evan said and when Tommy looked at him, he was pouting.  

“Not if you get busy reading The House In The Cerulean Sea,” Tommy pointed out. “But neither of us has a book in front of us now.” 

Evan hummed. “We don’t,” he said and then drained the last of his wine. 

Tommy did the same and he didn’t mind when Evan moved his chair so they were pressed together, or how he linked their hands. With his free hand, Evan caught Tommy’s face, thumb sweeping over Tommy’s lips and down his chin to his cleft before Evan leaned in, slanting his lips over Tommy’s. The angle wasn’t comfortable with the way they were sitting, but tasting Evan’s lips would be worth any aches and pains. 

Evan pulled back a moment later, but his gaze was glued to Tommy and his hand went down from Tommy’s cheek to his jaw to his neck and then to rest over Tommy’s chest where his heart was beating a bit faster than normal. They both leaned in, their lips meeting again. The kiss was sweet, it was deep, and Tommy could taste the last dredges of wine in Evan’s mouth.

[swiftsaltsweet]

Two Knives-Chapter 1: Kyoshi: A Poem and a Promise

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (RoK characters tbh)

Pairing: Rangshi

Summary:

Things have been stressful for Kyoshi. First, she sang a poem and now the whole kitchen staff thinks it’s about Rangi, and is sure that there will be gossip. Then, Yun asks her to join him for the Fifth Nation treaty signing. Now Rangi’s acting strange. It’s becoming a bit much for Kyoshi’s small corner of the world.

(Canon Divergent AU- Kelsang wasn’t the one who heard the poem?….aka What if it took longer for them to realize Kyoshi was the Avatar?)

Other Sites: AO3 

A/N: <_< >_>*looks everyone in the eye* *drops another AU* *shuffles away*

*runs back and takes the mic* I don’t really wanna recap alllllll the scenes in the novel, so we’re just going to jump to the ones that def changed because of this little butterfly effect. So yeah, I'm assuming you've at least read RoK, and the scenes not shown here are fairly similar that happen in the novel. Ok? Ok. *shuffles away again*

(Tw: SLIGHT earth kingdom homophobia, mostly just alluded too, it's not my main focus, but I'll give another warning if it happens)

_____

“Can’t someone give us a decent verse?” Auntie Mui complained. She’d roped the kitchen into a forced weekly-or was it daily?- poetry time. Lee had just delivered the worst haiku in history, and it left a bitter taste in the older woman’s mouth.

Kyoshi, who was only supposed to drop off a delivery, had gotten roped into kitchen work by Auntie Mui, who asked her to help with the bread before she left. Kyoshi accepted, but was trying to rush it so she could get back to her duties upstairs.

“Well saaaaaw-rry !” Lee complained. “I’m not the best at poetry!”

“Yeah he’s better with dirty songs!” one kitchen worker jeered.

“Aren’t we all?” another hooted.

“There will be no dirty songs!” Auntie Mui cried out.

“Hey, let’s do the Unrequited Shanty!” one of the scullery maids clapped. “That one’s always fun to play!” 

Kyoshi recognized the game they wanted to play. It was a well-known shanty popular with sailors and field hands, where you improvised raunchy words from the perspective of your object of unrequited affection. It was a game for others to guess who you were singing about, and the simple rhythm made manual labor more pleasant.

“Of course, ‘cause ya love ta gossip!” a cook jeered.

“There will be no-” Autie Mui started, trying to get the kitchen under control, but was cut off by Lee.

“I’ve got a nose like a dove-tailed deer / I run like a leaf on the wind,” Lee sang, evidently better at this than his failed haiku. The staff started banging tables and pots to his rhythm. “My arms are slight and my waist is tight / and I don’t have a thought for my kin.”

“Mirai!” a dishwasher yelled out. “He’s got it bad for the greengrocer’s daughter!” The staff whooped over Lee’s protests, thinking it a good match. Sometimes it didn’t matter to the audience if they guessed right or not.

“Kyoshi next!” someone said. “She’s never here, so let’s make the most of it!”

Kyoshi was caught off guard. Normally she wasn’t included in household antics. But here she was, with the whole kitchen staff banging their tables and pots in a rhythm louder, encouraging. 

Before Kyoshi could consider feeling embarrassed or decline, the rhythm of the atmosphere dug its claws into her, pulling her in, and the words spilled from her mouth without a care.

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul / they draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal.”

The kitchen howled. Auntie Mui clucked in disapproval. “Keep going, you naughty girl!” Lee shouted, glad that the attention was off of him. 

Kyoshi did just that, tossing out the lyrics that popped into her head. She started drumming her own dough to the beat.

“I’ve got hair like the starless night / it sticks to my lips when I smile / I’ll wind it with yours and we’ll drift off course / in a ship touching hearts all the while.”

Somehow the improvisation was easy, though she’d never considered herself a poet. Or a bawdy mind, for that matter. It was as if another person, someone much more at ease with their own desires, was feeding her the right lines to express herself. And to her surprise, she liked how the inelegant lines made her feel. Truthful and silly and raw.

“For the way I walk is a lantern lit / that leads you into the night / I’ll hold you close and love you the most / until our end is in sight.”

Kyoshi was about to ponder what the darker turn towards the end of the verse was, when she realized the makeshift music had stopped. Looking up, she saw everyone was silently looking at her with a gaped expression. Some even dropped the appliances they were using.

“W-what?” she flinched. She thought the lyrics were pretty good, sure she wasn’t a lyricist, but there was no need for such a cold reception!

“It’s Rangi!” one of the maids shouted, clapping her hands once. 

Kyoshi whipped her head around to the stairs, looking for the firebending girl. Her heart started to quicken, though she didn’t know what for. 

“It is Rangi!” a cook cooed, making a kissy face for some strange reason. 

“W-where?” Kyoshi kept looking around.

“Not in here , idiot!” Lee slapped her back. “In your song ! Just admit it, you just sang about Rangi.”

Kyoshi felt her eyes bulge out of her head. She hadn’t really been thinking of the lyrics, but when she played them back in her head the picture became very clear. It very much did sound like Rangi.

She looked around the kitchen, some were goading her playfully, not caring that Kyoshi may have just sung a love poem about her female friend. 

Some gave her disdainful looks. A wave of guilt and disgust in herself rose up in Kyoshi’s stomach, realizing that they may also veer those same looks at Rangi later. All because of Kyoshi’s loose lips.

“I-I, uh, I,” Kyoshi said eloquently. She had no comeback, she couldn’t deny the resemblance. She didn’t think she was thinking about Rangi at that moment, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She had thought of Rangi, often, at other times. The fiery girl would easily sneak into her mind when she wasn’t fully aware of it. Could this have been one of those times? 

But she’d tell herself it was just admiration. She admired her friend. The way she embodied strength, skill, and determination wrapped up in an unshakable heart. Just, honorable, and kind….. And so painfully beautiful .

Kyoshi shook her head. No, she mustn’t think those thoughts about her friend. No matter how often they snuck into her mind. How often she thought about what it’d feel like to hold her close. To touch the soft flesh of her neck. What it would feel like to press her lips against Rangi’s…..

No! Kyoshi balled a fist outside of view, the nails digging into her skin to break her out of her dangerous train of thought. She’d already let her imagination run off and cause a lapse in judgment already, she couldn’t afford to do it again.

Stop… you can’t have those thoughts. It’s not fair to her. She chastised herself, trying to bury the emotions like she’d done with her crush on Yun. Having these feelings towards them, her friends, it wasn’t right. It was betraying their trust. 

But unlike with Yun, these feelings kept resurfacing, stronger than ever at times. And that was dangerous. Because each time Kyoshi buried them, it became harder to do so. Which meant there was a breaking point. Which meant……there would come a time Kyoshi may make the biggest mistake of her life, and ruin her friendship beyond repair. 

Kyoshi took a wobbly step back. “I, uh, I have to go get ready for my gifting duties,” she said hurriedly. Barreling her way to the staircase, trying to ignore the looks and shouts in her direction. It was easy to drown out the noise, her heart was thumping in rhythm with the footsteps around her. She briefly wondered if someone was following her, but when she turned no one was, when she got to the staircase it was empty as well. 

As quickly and quietly as she could, she ascended the stairs and made her way through the mansion to her room. As she ran, Kyoshi had her hand covering her mouth, trying to choke down the air of hyperventilation. She realized she’d described Rangi’s eyes as sinful, when really Kyoshi was the one with the sinful thoughts. A new wave of guilt and disgust in herself radiated through her. 

She was thankful she didn’t run into Rangi on the way to her room.

______

“Thank you,” Yun said as he nuzzled his cheek into Kyoshi’s hand. 

Kyoshi had made it to her gifting duties, not only in a timely manner, but also very early. At some point, the Avatar had joined her to “help” with organizing the gifts. Really he just wanted to bug her.

But at some point the conversation had turned to him asking her to join him for the Fifth Nation treaty signing. She saw the sincerity in his plea and said yes. And now here they were in a slightly uncompromising position. It’d be a little dicey if someone barged through the door while they were like this.

Other than that slight distress hanging over her head, she let the contact wash over her. Letting it act as a balm to the fire bomb that went off on her hours before. 

Right, just push the feelings down. She told herself. 

Yun reluctantly put her hand down. "Three..." he said, cocking his ear at the ceramic-tiled floor with a smile. "Two... One..."

Rangi slid the door open with a sharp click, and Kyoshi felt herself jump slightly. She was happy Yun had let go of her hand.

"Avatar." She bowed deeply and solemnly to Yun. Then she turned to Kyoshi, her face appeared to be more stern than Kyoshi was used to. “And you! You’ve barely made any prog-”

She cut herself off and tore her eyes away from Kyoshi, looking around the room. Her eyes widened a bit. “Oh….it’s…. actually almost done.” 

Yes, most of the items had been sorted. Kyoshi just needed to finish them up, and then move the respected piles to where they needed to go.

“I got here early….” Kyoshi muttered. She kept her eyes on a pai sho table in the corner. She knew if she looked at Rangi’s face right now, then she’d light up brighter than a firefly. 

This wasn’t good, if she couldn’t face Rangi then….. How was she going to be able to hide her feelings properly? Rangi was going to think she was upset with the firebender. She needed to get herself together.

“Yeah Rangi,” Yun laughed. “This is Kyoshi we’re talking about, how dare you question her skill of working fast and efficiently?”

Rangi turned on her heel to face Yun, giving him an indignant look. “D-don’t put words in my mouth! I simply thought due to the volume that came in, and the fact you are skipping training to be a distraction, she may not have gotten as far as she did.”

“Well, I left the kitchen as soon as possible and got to work, just like you wanted ,” Kyoshi mumbled. 

There was a moment of silence that caused Kyoshi to chance looking in Rangi’s direction. The two stared at her with worried expressions. Uh oh, Kyoshi hadn’t made the right expression, or maybe her tone was off? She needed to rectify the situation.

Kyoshi scratched at her nose, bashfully. “Did I say something wrong?”

Rangi stared at her for a moment, and it took all of Kyoshi’s effort to keep her blush down. Rangi finally broke eye contact by looking at the ground. “No… it’s just….”

“I think Kyoshi’s just a little nervous,” Yun announced.

Kyoshi felt her heart lurch in her chest. Oh she was nervous alright, but how could he possibly know?

“I just asked her to join the Fifth Nation signing and she agreed to go,” he continued calmly.

Oh he meant that . Kyoshi sighed, grateful for the coverup.

Rangi’s eyes boggled out of her head. “Wh-what?! What do you mean she’s going ?!”

Apparently he hadn’t told Rangi, until now.

“I was going to tell you,” Yun smiled, putting his hands up in surrender. 

Rangi spluttered and looked between Yun and Kyoshi. “Have you lost your mind ? The both of you? She’s not going!”

“Are you going against your Avatar’s wishes?” Yun grinned at her, but it made Rangi visibly flinch. Like he'd struck her, despite his joking tone. “Calm down, it’ll be good to have her there.”

“Good for who ?” Rangi groused. She pressed a fist to her forehead and sighed. Then she glared at Yun and grabbed his sleeve. “We’re talking about this later. Right now, I’m taking you back to your training!”

She started to pull her charge towards the door.

“Gah! Rangi! Wait!” Yun bemoaned. 

Rangi practically threw the Avatar through the doorway in front of her, and then stopped with her hand on the doorframe. She looked back at Kyoshi with an expression Kyoshi couldn’t place.

“And you-!” Rangi looked at Kyoshi and then the rest of the room, trying to find something to yell at her about. “Clean-no. Just. Gah. Do whatever you were doing!”

Rangi slammed the door. 

_____

Kyoshi quickly climbed the hill to the Avatar’s estate, a package in her arms. It had been a few days since Kyoshi had sung the poem about Rangi in the kitchen, as well as a few days since Yun had requested to join her on his adventure to sign the treaty. 

Since then, things have been pretty hectic. She and other staff were running around trying to make sure supplies were in order for the big event in a few weeks. 

Kyoshi was making frequent trips to the village to pick up various specially delivered packages. Though, she had a feeling that this one was more of a luxury item than one of necessity. She didn’t complain though, at least it was light. 

Kyoshi finally made it up the hill, and was just entering the gates when a familiar black and red cladded presence came out from behind the door as she passed through. Kyoshi screamed in surprise, just barely holding onto the package.

She looked down to see her ever timely friend, Rangi, waiting for her. 

As punctual as always. 

She gave Kyoshi an unreadable but stern look, the same one from when she first entered the gifting room. Come to think of it, that same look had been resting on her face for the past handful of days……

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, apologizing for yelling in her friend’s face. “You surprised me!”

Rangi’s expression didn’t change, instead she turned and started walking away. Just slow enough to indicate to Kyoshi that she would escort her to her next destination.

Kyoshi frowned a bit, she hadn’t liked Rangi’s new change in demeanor. On top of that, she barely talked when they were together. She felt like there was a wall, one that was much denser than when they first met. She was used to Rangi being a raging mother hen, not stoic and brooding.

She gathered herself and caught up to Rangi, and proceeded to walk side by side to Kyoshi’s next destination. Kyoshi took in the mansion’s beauty as they walked in silence. Since they would be leaving the mansion soon, most of the usual guests had left, so the staff was free to walk around parts of the mansion that were usually off limits. Like the garden. Which was the fastest shortcut to their next destination.

Kyoshi admired the layout, how the flowers were practically bursting over each other. The sand art that lined parts of the path. The way the rocks of the path felt like they came together in chaotic beauty. It was all very wabi-sabi. 

Her favorite part of the garden was definitely the small pond. The way the koi would come up to greet them for food. The little bridge they built over it. The clearness of the water. The pretty hue of green of the algae and other plants grew on top of it. The way the reflection of the water shimmered and framed Rangi’s jaw and eyes as they passed-

Kyoshi’s head snapped away, her heart beating a million miles a second. She’d let her mind wander and didn’t realize she was staring at her friend like-.... Oh…. she needed to shove these feelings down, and fast . 

Oh she could only thank the spirits and Yangchen that she at least hadn’t been caught staring.

“Kyoshi,” Rangi said, breaking the silence and startling Kyoshi even more.

“Y-yes?” 

“You aren’t going,” Rangi said. On top of her other new quirks, she’d also acquired a new phrase she liked.

Kyoshi sighed. “I don’t think I have a choice , Rangi. It’s a special request from the Avatar .”

Rangi stopped walking and glared at Kyoshi. “Of course you have a choice! You just have to tell him you don’t want to! Just tell him ‘no,’ Kyoshi!”

Kyoshi raised an eyebrow and gave her a joking smile. “And disobey the Avatar?”

Rangi stiffened. “It’s not ‘disobeying’ if he gave you an option in the first place, right?”

“I don’t mind though.” Ok, Kyoshi minded, just a bit . She was nervous. But it was a special request from Yun. She couldn’t say no to her best friend. 

Kyoshi dropped her voice into a low whisper, not wanting others to hear her, “Plus he practically begged me. How could I say no?”

Kyoshi thought that was the end of it, and started walking again, but stopped and almost fell back when a strong grip on her arm pulled her back.

“Then what about me , huh?” Rangi glared up at Kyoshi, practically in her face, and hand sturdy on Kyoshi’s arm. “What if I begged ? What if I begged you not to come along? What would you do then?”

Kyoshi’s heart pounded so hard, it radiated in her ears. What would she do? She technically should hold Rangi’s request in the same regard as Yun’s, she’d do anything for her best friends. But these requests were contradictory, she was going to make someone unhappy.

Rangi shook Kyoshi’s arm once, and Kyoshi looked at Rangi’s face again. It wasn’t the stoic mask she’d grown accustomed to over the past few days, it was vulnerable. Pleading. Her eyes shone, not with the promise of sin, but with a promise of….of…. something . Kyoshi wasn’t sure, but she felt herself being pulled closer the longer she looked into them.

Rangi shook her arm again. “ Please . Kyoshi, please don’t come with us,” she begged, her hot breath fanning over Kyoshi’s face. Rangi was begging. Strong, prideful Rangi was begging meak Kyoshi for something. It wasn’t right. Kyoshi wanted to drop what she was holding, and take Rangi into her arms. Reassure her that she would do whatever Rangi said. 

Kyoshi bit her lip and gripped the package tightly, it was the only thing keeping her grounded. She fought the ever waging war in her heart, and self-control won out again. But just barely. 

She was about to comply, when a horrifying thought ran through her head. What if Rangi didn’t come back? Kyoshi couldn’t bear it, if she wasn’t going to see Rangi again then it’d be up until the final moment. Even if it meant her own doom.

Kyoshi shook her head. She tried to say “I’m sorry” but found her throat and mouth were too dry.

Rangi grimaced and released her. “Forget it,” she said, as she walked away. With her, she took a heat Kyoshi didn’t realize had formed around them.

_____

A/N: At this point, I’m just dropping fic chapters down because I can’t focus my brain on one scenario. TT0TT Also, Gee, I wonder who heard the poem? Big mystery. Much suspense. 8U

[korizzybee]

HCs on being Noé’s Tween!sister (12-14)

Being the smarter sibling, not saying Noé is dumb…he’s just not the brightest

Ion care what anyone says Noé definitely knows how to cook (it’s them black genes in him) and he always makes sure you’re fed!!!

Noé trying to preserve your innocence

“No boyfriends until you’re my age!!!”

Also being a vampire and he’s so sweet he lets you drink blood from his arm to regain strength 🥹🥹

Y’all are definitely those clingy siblings who cuddle together you only really have each other in this world

Vanitas loves you very much he also views you as his little sister

I feel like Noé got you guy’s dad’s looks but mom’s personality, so you’d have the latter (unless you wanna have both dad’s looks and personality)

Patching him up after he battles people and scolding him about it

You do Noé’s hair, but you’d be damned if you let him do yours (I feel like he doesn’t know how to really do his own hair so unless you want knots DON’T LET HIM TOUCH!!!)

You, him, and Vanitas going around causing chaos 😭😭

You helping around the cafe, sweeping, taking orders, cleaning the tables etc

Being Domi’s little doll!! She dresses you up in frilly dresses and everything!!

Domi laying her head on your lap as she rants to you abt her crush on your big bro as you just play in her hair and say “oh wow….!! I would’ve never guessed you liked him….”

You and Vanitas being like BFFLs!!! Your dynamic is like the HEAVEN 2 HELL song (Hazbin Hotel)

You and Noé are both sassy asl so you have sass sessions together

Roland absolutely squealing when he meets you bc you’re so adorable? Can he adopt you? Let him put pigtails and bows in your hair pretty pls?

MODERN AU!!!

You, Noé, and Vanitas playing Crazy 8 together (cue Vanitas screaming bc he doesn’t have a red card and you keep hitting him with draw 4’s)

Vanitas being a dumb high school student (senior since he’s 18), Noé being and even dumber college student (freshmen cuz he 19), and you being a gifted middle school student so you tutor them both 😭😭😭

Noé driving you and Vanitas to school, him giving you a kiss on your forehead so you have a good day (platonic y’all we are NOT the tanizaki siblings….)

Late night McDonald’s runs? Late night McDonald’s runs.

You, Jeann, and Domi having girls nights and Noé and Vanitas always tryna crash it

Noé let’s you put make up on his face and he wears it proudly!!!

You, Noé, and Vanitas definitely do those “reading your confessions” videos on YouTube (one of you always end up traumatized 💀)

Imagine “acting like my brother for a whole day challenge” but with Noé

Sneaking onto Noé’s college campus to give him the answers to his next test and to see Domi

You eating Noé’s doordash and him not even being mad because he’s happy you’re getting food on your stomach!!! 😔😔😔

Always beating Noé in connect 4 bc he doesn’t know how to strategize LMFAO

[zenlesszonezero]

Join Zenless Zone Zero with Tsukishiro Yanagi, the deputy leader of Hollow Special Operations Section 6! Beneath her ordinary office lady exterior lies a meticulous, emotionally intelligent big sister to the team.

[trashboatprince]

Monster omens prompt; crowley sees magical sea slug aziraphale eat for the first time and experiences horny body horror?

Finally! An excuse to write the reverse sea monster wives!

I never said it in my original drawing of sea slug Aziraphale, but this story is actually in the modern day, rather than in the Victorian era like the normal au.

Warning: mild body horror, sea slugs eat with the top of their heads and a lot of tentacles, Crowley has Thoughts

On with the fic!

--

"You know, I've never actually eaten one of these before." Crowley stated from where she sat at the shoreline, Aziraphale sitting in the water, keeping her tail wet.

"Well, you shall now!" Aziraphale smiled, though her attention was strictly on the steamed oysters and mussels that Crowley brought. "Though I've never had these... prepared, as you put it. I didn't even know humans liked them cooked."

Crowley shrugged, opening the pot. It had been an interesting experiment to steam them out there on the beach over an open fire, but Aziraphale had been absolutely gobsmacked over the whole process, excited to try freshly cooked food. "These'll be very hot, so be careful, don't burn your tongue."

Aziraphale frowned. "Burn my tongue? Perish the thought! I shall not be putting these tasty treats on my tongue."

Crowley paused in plating Aziraphale's food, giving her a confused look. "Wait, what? Then how are you going to eat 'em? I mean, you gotta put these in your mouth. They aren't, like, going in your...." Her eyes drifted down, then went right back up. "Right?"

"I don't know what you're thinking, but I will be eating these with my mouth, dear." Aziraphale sniffed and reached for the plate, grabbing an oyster, hissing lightly at the heat of the shell.

"B-but you just said-!" Crowley was about to argue, until she watched in horror, and curiosity, as things pushed their way through Aziraphale's hair. They were of the same yellow-ish color as her skin, even slightly transparent at the tips, and they were wiggling about as a strange line formed on Aziraphale's head.

And then it split open and Crowley's jaw dropped.

Aziraphale looked perfectly content as her head opened at the top and six tentacles squirmed about, circling around a strange, moving hole, blue in color. Crowley watched as Aziraphale lifted an oyster up to the tentacles, which grabbed it, broke the shell in two, and placed the one with the meat on it to the hole.

Crowley's mouth went dry at the, rather lewd sounding, moan that came from her mermaid-ish friend.. Aziraphale shuddered and looked so delighted, then grabbed another oyster to give to the tentacles, that tossed the empty shells away. "Oh, these are delicious!" She said, out of the mouth that was still very clearly on her face.

Swallowing hard, Crowley grabbed for the wine glass she had poured for herself earlier and tried to take a drink, but all she could do was stare. How had she not bothered to look up sea angels? Should she have looked up to see how they eat? Would she be feeling this... odd watching her friend eat like this?

And should she be worried about how much she wanted to know what else those tentacles could do?

Crowley took a very long drink as she watched the tentacles move around, and she shifted a bit where she sat. She already knew she liked Aziraphale, but she was now wondering if there was a name for what she was feeling right now.

Probably, there was probably a whole community online for this very specific thing she was looking at.

Right now, she was a little too focused on Aziraphale and the noises she was making than to bother looking at her phone.

This was gonna be a long dinner.

--

It took everything in me to not make a lewd joke about oysters, but Crowley is gonna have trouble looking at them the next time she sees them for sale at the store, I can tell you that much.

[scarabies-real]

Ooh ooooooh op I am Thinking so hard about this. Just. So hard.

I’m thinking Grian and Scar were once childhood best friends. And the one day something happened and they fought, and suddenly they hated each other. They never spoke again, didn’t even miss each other but would always, always complain about the other. It was always “I once knew a boy named Scar and he was such a conniving little shit” and “This kid named Grian was so stuck up it was unbelievable” and it continues well into their adulthood. At this point neither of them remembers what made them hate the other, but it doesn’t matter because they hate each other with a passion. They haven’t talked to each other since they were kids but in a small town they always bump into each other and exchange snide remarks and glares.

And then one day they both move out of their hometown. Grian first—because he always had that wanderlust and could never stay in the same place, and being in that town was like a cage to him—and then Scar. Somehow, somehow, they move to the same place. And they spot each other in the grocery store and both groan and whine to their respective friends that’s they cannot escape the other. Grian accuses Scar of following him, Scar accuses him of the same, they are both thrown out of Walmart and banned. It’s like the universe is playing a cosmic joke on them. And then Grian goes to work the next day and Scar is his new coworker and that’s it, he quits, he’s done. With his job, with life, just fuck it all because someone up there must really have it out for him and really need to shove their head up there.

I’m imagining this as a college AU, but not a young party love drama AU but a we’re both 30 years old with crushing student loan debt and you’re trying to get your masters in architecture and I switched my major after dropping out to care for my family and I’m taking this drawing class and it turns out you’re the subject for this project and I’m about to fail this class because I keep drawing unflattering caricatures of you and neither of us are acting like adults about this whole thing. But one day you didn’t show up and then the next and the next and I got worried and I realized maybe you weren’t such a burden on me after all and I found out you couldn’t both pay your medical bills and your tuition and you had to drop out, but my family is wealthy so I paid it off for you anonymously and now you’re back and I still say I hate you but I’m starting to question if it’s true. And I’m finding a love for architecture and maybe it’s a love for you too but we both hate each other and yet the universe keeps shoving us together and if you split us apart something goes wrong and it explodes and I say I hate you with each stroke of my pencil and you say I hate you when you bring me coffee at night because we were neighbors, too, and I hate you but I can’t bear to be apart and you hate me but you remember my favorite color and you ask about my sister and I hate you but I bought toys for your cat and leave you soup when you can’t cook and we hate each other in all the ways we love each other.

yeah grian loving scar and thus sustaining a dramatic, cross-dimensional situationship is cool but what about grian absolutely HATING scar and despite it the universe keeps linking their asses in both romantic and comedic endeavors

[luveline]

tell me again on a good day [remus lupin x reader]

“Hi, pretty,” he murmured, tilting your head back to dot kisses from the corner of your lips to the centre. Your hand stuttered where it was moving from the attention. He covered it with his own and put you back on track. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

Your chest heaved. ”Am I doing a good job?”

“The best job,” his breathing turned shallow, eyelids drifting shut, “just like that.”

wordcount: 9.3k

summary: you’re pregnant from a terrible one night stand. remus only fancies you more for it.

tags: smut, hurt/comfort, first and second trimester of pregnancy, nsfw, marauders era, consensual but mediocre/uncomfortable sex at the beginning (not Remus), strangers to friends to lovers, not specifically muggle au but magic isn’t mentioned, breaking the cycle or something like that, she/her pronouns used for reader, fem reader, softie remus

Admittedly, you’d fucked up.

You were 21, living with your parents in the city. They were stricter than some. You had a 9.15PM sharp curfew, a 6.30AM wake up. You did everybody’s laundry, most of the cleaning and cooked 3 meals a day everyday for them. Call you fucking Cinderella, or whatever.

It wasn’t that bad. They didn’t force you to do these things, you knew it was expected, so you did it. They didn’t explicitly tell you that you couldn’t move out, it was never talked about, so you didn’t. They weren’t too keen on details, and you assumed a general brick wall were to be built between you and a life that was more than housekeeping and playing mediator.

They never mentioned boyfriends or, god forbid you, girlfriends, and so you never had one. You desired it sometimes - you were in your early twenties, most of your friends at that point had been having (terrible) sex for years. Your friends in school had all had boyfriends and slept with boys before you’d even been of age, and here you found yourself three years later having not known the touch of anyone.

For once, you wanted to do something unexpected. Your whole life had been written in stone from the day you were born. You took off your little cross necklace, went into town at 8.15 sharp, scoured the local for somebody mildly attractive, and you let him fuck you in an alleyway.

It was terrible, as things went. Dry as sand with your face pressed into unforgiving stone, your partner mistook your pants of general movement as pleasure. He said something wanton that should’ve been a turn on, like, oh, you like that huh?

“Yes,” you said. You were lying, of course, but felt trapped by indecision. Should you tell him to get off? You were shocked by how different this felt than how it looked in the movies or how it was described in books. It didn’t hurt so badly, a dull pinch, and then he was finishing. A horrible sound, like a fish learning it can’t breathe air.

He pulled away and you straightened, rubbing your cheek with your hand. You didn’t know how you felt or what you felt, only the slimey sensation of having been used. You pulled your trousers up and walked away, even as the guy started shouting for you to have his phone number.

No, you thought to yourself. No thanks. Maybe my parents were right after all, I should stick to cooking and cleaning. Rather a housemaid to them than some rando in the pub that couldn’t find your clit, even though it was literally right there, like a button. What could you do, draw an arrow?

You didn’t feel like touching yourself ever again at this point. When you got home at 8.34PM, you couldn’t help but think to yourself how you’d reckoned sex took a bit longer, and felt nicer, and as you filled the bath up with steaming water and undressed, you found you didn’t want to look at your body at all. You washed in between your legs with detachment and pushed your head under the water to sulk.

-

The boy working at the pharmacist was concerned about you, evidently. He’d been working here for maybe two years and you often saw him whilst buying topicals and once, embarrassingly, dioralyte for your mother. You’d thought he’d think it was for you and so had made a big show of seeming spritely. You didn’t know his name - he was shy, though lovely, and usually in the back while Lucy, your mother's friend, worked the counter.

You’d waited for Lucy to be out for her 5.45PM smoke break before going in. You went straight to the counter where he stood, hesitant and scared and cleared your throat.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” you said. You could barely get the word out. It was enough for him to look at you with recognition. His hand drifted under the counter, and he pulled out a pregnancy test.

“I didn’t get to ask my question.”

“You have that look of dread on your face, so I assumed. Sorry,” he said. You nodded, taking the box in your shaking hands.

You looked up at him. “Can I ask you something embarrassing?”

He smiled kindly. “That’s what I’m here for. Total confidentiality, and I’ll try my best.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat and tried to come up with the words. “Is it supposed to hurt so much afterwards?” you asked him, the words cracked and cleaved from you, a vulnerability you hadn’t ever wanted to give anyone. But you had nobody else to turn to.

He leaned forward, his hand between you both. “No, sweetheart. No. It’s not supposed to hurt.”

You nodded to yourself and blinked hard - you’d known that. You just needed somebody to tell you.

“Is someone hurting you?” he asked in concern.

You shook your head vehemently and smiled at him, paying for the test and thanking him for his help. You didn’t feel like you were the one controlling your hands as you walked out, slipping the test into your bra. Your hoodie covered the lump of the box but you still hurried upstairs to your bathroom.

You sat on the toilet with your head in your hands, counting the three minutes like a child. 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi, 4. When you reached 180 you kept going, until you’d counted to 300, 500. You pressed your fingers into your closed eyes until they hurt and your vision was blobs of black and turned to the test feeling suddenly angry.

“You better be negative,” you said, furious. “Be fucking negative.”

You turned the test over and felt instant relief - one pink line. Clear as day, bright pink on white. You threw your head up and laughed in relief, checking again.

There… faintly, the second pink line was developed. Your head fell back into your hands. Yeah, you’d fucked up royally.

-

That night you thought about the boy at the pharmacy. He was tall, handsome, but importantly he was kind, soft. The way he’d seemed scared for you, the compassion he’d had for a total stranger, and the way he’d said sweetheart like the word was made of stained glass, that if he said it wrong it would’ve cracked apart, had you making a decision - there was nobody else in the world who could know what had happened to you. You suspected he wouldn’t mind giving you advice on what to do.

You tried to look pleasant. Your rolling stomach, still the same as before despite the chemical reactions taking place inside, had you shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

The bell on the door tinkled as you came in. The pharmacist boy didn’t notice, enraptured in his friend, who sat on the counter kicking his legs like a child. He was laughing, a cigarette between his fingers. Lucy couldn’t have been here.

You didn’t bother pretending you were here for anything, instead walking up to the corner unabashedly (outwardly) and cleared your throat softly. “Hi,” you said.

“Hi,” the smoking boy said.

“Sirius,” the pharmacist boy scolded.

“Can I - I’m really sorry. Could I talk to you about something?”

“Sure, no problem. Fuck off,” he added the second part much more quietly to his friend.

The friend’s laugh was roaring. He winked at you on the way out. The pharmacist boy cringed, “I’m sorry about him.”

You put your hands down flat on the auburn wood between you both. “That’s okay.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

You looked at him wearily, trying to gauge if you could trust him with this.

“Complete confidentiality. Can’t even tell my boss.”

You nodded quickly, “Right,” you said.

When you failed to keep talking he frowned. “Do you want to sit down?” he asked, gesturing his flat palm at the three chairs in the tiny waiting area.

“I won’t get you in trouble?” you asked him.

“No, no. Lucy loves me.”

You found yourself sat facing him, an empty foam padded chair between you both. “I - have to admit, I’m not sure you owe me discretion with this, because it’s hardly related to the pharmacy. Or medication. Or anything. I just didn’t know who to ask, and-“

He leaned forward a tiny bit, and you took it as a cue to stop talking. “It’s encouraged that people come to us with health questions that aren’t an emergency. Is it an emergency?”

You frowned. “No.”

“Then this is a great place for you to come.”

You pinched the fabric of your skirt between your fingers and covered your knees. “The test was positive. I don’t know what to do.”

You’d both know this was going to be the topic of conversation as soon as you’d walked in. He had the kindness not to act surprised. “The first thing you should do is make a doctor’s appointment, they can give you lots of choices, check how you’re doing,” he said gently. Then, hesitantly, “Are you alright?”

You felt again as though you could burst into tears. “I’m fine.”

“Last time,” he sat up in the chair, voice quiet despite the emptiness of the room, “you remember what you asked me? How are you now?”

You could feel your cheeks growing warm. It felt so strange to tell somebody who didn’t know you these things. “I’m fine.”

“Forgive me for asking, but did you use protection?”

You winced.

“No, I know, I’m so stupid. What could I have expected, right?” you said rapidly.

His face was comforting. “You’re not stupid, okay?” he was speaking to you so softly, you couldn't bear it, looking down at your lap. “I only ask because after stuff like this, it’s best to go to the clinic and make sure nobody gave you anything, right?”

The overwhelmed feeling was building. You hadn’t thought about that, too caught up in the whole being pregnant scenario, and the realisation was like being kicked in the stomach. You spread your hands against your abdomen. “Right,” you agreed with him.

He got to his feet and weaved around the counter to shuffle through leaflets. He picked up a few and came to sit with you again, spreading the first one out in his hands. “This is the sex clinic near us. You can call this number and make an appointment, or you can walk in and sometimes they can see you straight away.”

He tucked it underneath his hand and showed you the next leaflet. “This is the number for the local midwife - she can answer any questions you have about being pregnant,” he looked up at you and smiled, “she might know more than me about it.”

There was another leaflet on what to expect in the first trimester underneath it.

“And uh,” he showed you the last leaflet. “This is for you. You want me to go through it with you?”

You nodded uselessly, eyes scanning the cover. Abortion: Your questions answered.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he began, without opening the leaflet, “if you want to have an abortion or you want to have a baby, the choice is yours. It’s completely legal to have one and you won’t have to tell anyone about it, and like me the doctor can't tell a soul about it.”

He inched closer again to show you the page. You caught it between your index finger and your thumb. “It might hurt, but it’s completely safe.”

You nodded. He passed you the collection of leaflets and you held them in your hands, unseeing.

“Are you okay?”

You blinked, a tear falling from your eye. You wiped it away quickly. “I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s scary. But you have a lot of choices.”

“I think that’s the part that scares me,” you admitted, laughing wetly.

“My friend had a baby when she was young,” he said, likely trying to distract you. You wanted to be distracted, so you asked, “Was she scared?”

“So scared. I couldn’t believe it. She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, and seeing her with no clue as to what direction to go in was startling.”

You wiped your face again.

“She didn’t want to have a baby?”

“She did. Her and James were thrilled straight away, truly. But she was still terrified… These things aren’t cut so clean, and it’s alright that you’re overwhelmed. It’s a really scary thing to happen.”

You knew it wasn’t a baby yet, but it could be. It’s been almost a month since you’d gone to that pub with misguided intentions, a week since you’d found out you were pregnant. You’d spent the days paralysed by what would happen but you’d also let yourself wonder, just a little, about what a baby would be like. Would it be loving and cuddly and charming? Would it burst your eardrums with its cries? Would it look like you? Would it be funny, and smart, and beautiful?

Maybe you wouldn’t feel so lonely anymore.

You breathed out.

“You don’t have to decide straight away,” he said, alarmed by your fresh wave of tears.

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be alright,” he tried again.

“I’m sorry. You’re the first person I’ve talked to about this. I’m sorry for crying.”

“It’s more than okay. I wish you wouldn’t, though. You’re much too pretty.”

You knew he was being nice for the sake of cheering you up: you had snot on your face. You pinched your nose and giggled despite yourself.

“Go to the clinic, make sure you’re good. They can give you some better advice than I did.”

“No, your advice was great,” you assured him, thinking much too hard about what was to come.

-

The next time you saw the pharmacist boy it was late, and you’d finally made a decision. You’d spent two weeks after that day at the pharmacist thinking about him and thinking about your situation. You went to the sex clinic and got the all clear, luckily, and then got your bloods taken to confirm you were definitely pregnant, which you were. You’d gone home and hidden away for a week, calling off work. You struggled to do your chores. Only when your mother had put you down for resting had you looked at her, really looked at her, and thought, I’m going to be a better mother than you. My daughter will never feel guilty for lying in bed after a long day. She won’t have to cook dinner for herself as soon as she learns how the oven works. She won’t have to cry herself to sleep, or ask strangers at the pharmacy what to do about her pregnancy. She won’t ever be alone like me.

You’d put your shoes and coat on, determined. The pharmacy would shut soon, half an hour if you were lucky and fifteen minutes if Lucy was in a bad mood.

The walk wasn’t far, you lived conveniently close to your town centre. Your legs burned as you traversed the steep hill leading to the pharmacy, and it made you think of how it would only get worse from here. The thought didn’t scare you, you realised. You were looking to it with an ironic sense of chagrin. Like, what can you do?

First things first, prenatal multivitamins. If you were going to do this, you were going to do it so well that nobody could doubt you. The pharmacist boy was there like usual. You smiled and made a beeline for him at the counter. “Lucy isn’t here, right?” you asked.

He put his fingers to lips. “She’s in the back,” he whispered.

“Oh,” you whispered back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. I’m still pregnant, if that's what you’re asking,” you said this even quieter than the last, weary of Lucy, who didn’t respect patient confidentiality if it meant being the centre of attention, overhearing and telling your mother, who she knew well.

He laughed. The sound was like jade, shining and shot through with silver. “That’s not what I meant, but that’s great. If that’s what you want?”

You bit your lip. “I think so. I’m here for prenatals.”

He grinned. “And so responsible! They’re at the front.”

“I don’t want Lucy to see,” you confided. He nodded in understanding, eyebrows raised just slightly.

“Right…” he looked over his shoulder into the back room where Lucy was standing with her back turned, organising boxes.

“You go wait out the front and I’ll sort it,” he told you. “Quickly, before she sees you in here and tells half the town.”

You waited for him around the side, hidden from Lucy when she left. Five minutes later he emerged.

“I realised that I don’t know your name and you don’t know mine,” you said to him. He’d changed out of his polo shirt and was wearing a grey t-shirt with a coat overtop.

“You’re Y/N,” he said, pushing his hand into his coat. “I’m Remus.”

You could’ve crawled into a hole and died. “How’d you know who I am?”

He offered you the box of prenatals. They were the fancy ones, omega 3 and folic acid and all the good stuff.

“I’ve seen you around, you came in with your mother once”

“How much do I owe you?” you asked him, squeezing the box between your hands, brushing your fingertips over the Braille.

“Nothing, they’re a gift. Congratulations, sweetheart.”

“Thanks,” you murmured. He was the first person to know and perhaps he’d be the only to congratulate you.

“Remus!”

You and Remus both turned to the voice. There was a young man with glasses hanging out the window of a nice car. “Remus, are you coming? Who’s your friend?”

“Where’s Lily?” Remus called back. “You should not be driving!”

“I’m a perfectly adequate driver!”

“This is Y/N!”

“Hi, Y/N! Do you want to come for dinner?”

“James!” Remus had begun the word shouting and ended it in a shake of his head. “You don’t have to, of course.”

“Um,” your mind was blank.

“We’re having spaghetti!” James warbled.

“Oh, well I’m convinced!” you called to James. He grinned, pleased, and sat back properly in his seat. “Is it okay that I come?” you asked Remus quietly, following him across the street.

“Sure,” he said, holding the car door open behind the driver's seat, “James doesn’t bite. Often.”

“I do,” James disagreed, turning around to face you. He had pearly white teeth and thick, dark hair that framed his brown face in a rugged halo, like feathers, “I’m James.”

“Y/N.”

“Awesome,” he said, “are you Moony’s girlfriend?”

Remus cuffed his shoulder. “Fuck up.”

James didn’t show if he felt it, instead putting the car into reverse and maneuvering out of his parking space with little finesse. Remus gripped the console.

“It’s not that bad,” James smarted.

“It’s worse,” Remus said.

“Y/N doesn’t think so, do you?” James asked you.

You let them tease each other, the box of prenatal vitamins still clutched between your fingers. You were gripped with the sudden thought that they could be driving you to somewhere secluded to kill you, and then that if your daughter ever got in a car with a stranger and a boy she’d only had one proper conversation with, you’d kill her yourself.

“How’d you convince Lily to let you drive this thing?” Remus asked James. You remembered that James was the boyfriend of the girl Remus had said had a baby young, which explained the car seat and the toys in the back seat.

“I’m allowed to drive, legally. I did all the tests. She can’t really stop me.”

“I’m still not sure if you cheated or not.”

“I didn’t!”

You could feel eyes on you.

“So,” James said. “How did you meet Moons?”

“That’s me,” Remus said helpfully. “Don’t plague her, James, she met me at the pharmacy. Where else?”

James gaped at his friend. “Let her speak, good grief! You have the manners of a vagrant.”

You laughed. “I did meet him at the pharmacy.”

“When?”

“Couple weeks ago.”

“You’ve had a girlfriend for weeks and haven’t said anything?” he said, turning to Remus, wounded.

“Prongs,” Remus said. Your eyebrows creased at all these peculiar nicknames. “She isn’t my girlfriend, please. She’s a friend.”

“Well, any friend of Remus’ is a friend of mine.”

“Except Ayesha.”

James scowled. “Fuck off, Ayesha loves me.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said. “But I’m not his girlfriend.”

“That’s too bad for him and brilliant news for Sirius.”

Remus glared at him. James took his hands off the wheel to shrug, which had you and Remus both protesting wordlessly. “Relax, I’m such a good driver. I don’t even need to watch the roads, see, my skills are that good,” James said, covering his face. He parted his fingers to see through the gaps.

“Drive normally or I’m ringing your mother,” Remus scolded. You were gripping the seat for dear life as James did an incredibly fast turn down a driveway and stopped, in front of an incredibly lavish looking home.

There was a pale red-headed woman standing at the front door with a child in her arms, looking 4 or 5 years old, skin similarly tanned as his fathers and hair just as thick, though he didn’t have glasses. He was wiggling in her arms, cheering for his dad.

“Dad!” he called.

“Harry, my little man!” he cheered right back, rushing from the car to gather the boy in his arms. You followed Remus’ lead and got out, the door slamming shut behind you with more force than you’d meant.

“God, I’m sorry,” you apologised.

James turned with his son in his arms, a mirror of himself, and smiled graciously. “Harry, Lily, this is Remus’ friend Y/N. She’s come for dinner.”

“Spaghetti!” Harry shouted gleefully.

“Spaghetti!” James echoed.

Lily skirted around her small family to offer you a hug. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“You too,” you said.

You soon glossed over the awkwardness of meeting new people because the magnanimity and charm of their family made it impossible to feel anything except enchanted with them. They were a unit, you could feel it in everything they did, and Remus fit into it too. He picked up toys and stirred the spaghetti, even walked off to answer the phone when James was busy chatting your ear off and Lily was helping Harry wash his hands before dinner.

James set the table and insisted you sit down. “But either way,” he was saying, “it’s so fun to tease him. He’s a sensitive soul, you know?”

“I hope you’re not talking about me,” a new voice said. The boy who’d been smoking cigarettes the first time you’d gone to Remus for help was standing there, smiling at you like you were an enigma. You remembered his wink.

“Obviously about you.”

“I’m Sirius,” he said.

“I’m Y/N.”

“We’ve met before?” he asked, with the air that he knew the answer.

“Yeah, at the pharmacy.”

“The pharmacy,” he said. Everything he said was smooth and soft, though his face was earnest.

“Wine!” Lily shouted, “James, get the wine!”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said to Sirius.

He smiled. He was easy to talk to - they all were, sitting you down at their family table like you’d been there before, like the fifth chair had always been for you. James started to pour you a drink and you had to put your hand over the cup.

“Oh, I can’t,” you said.

The silence was palpable.

“I’m pregnant, not an alcoholic,” you said awkwardly.

“Oh wow, congratulations!” Lily said, clapping her hands together. Harry laughed at his mother’s happiness and started clapping too. James was side-eyeing Remus.

The boys were having a silent conversation. Sirius shrugged. “I’m not pregnant, Prongs,” he said, thrusting his wine glass towards James.

“Congratulations,” James said too, completely ignoring his friend in favour of clapping you good-naturedly on the shoulder. You shied away.

“Only a month, so nothing to be excited for,” you deflected, blushing.

“Not Moony’s, is it?”

“That’s so fucking rude,” Remus protested, “you can’t ask her stuff like that.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Sirius said, sounding not too sorry.

You curled in on yourself, poking at the spaghetti in front of you to avoid eye contact. “It’s not. It was - some guy. I didn’t know him.”

“Aren’t all guys just some guy?” Lily asked.

“You’re a misandrist,” James said, sitting down again to finish helping Harry eat his pasta.

“Are you excited?” Lily asked you.

You’d thought a lot about it. You weren’t sure if excitement was the right word, you were determined, more like, to do a good job, and to love someone. “I don’t think it’s set in yet.”

-

Something certainly started to set in when you hit the 12 week mark. You looked down one day and suddenly you had a small, almost unnoticeable distension of your tummy. Of course, you noticed, you’d spent hours over these two months pressing your hand to your stomach to try and feel something, any sign that there was more than just you in there.

And now you had it - a bump.

The morning sickness started two weeks before the bump. You were sneaky, trying not to disrupt your parents or show any signs of your pregnancy - everything was hidden. The books, the leaflets, the original test, all of them were stashed far under your bed where nobody would touch them. You’d started saving despite a rising wave of fear that it wouldn’t be enough. You wanted to move out and give your baby a loving home.

You told Remus this over dinner at his house. You’d become fast friends along with the rest of his friends, and so James had been there too. It had been perhaps the first secret you had told him - you wanted, earnestly, desperately, to be a good mother, and to do this you needed to get out of that house.

“Are they bad?” James had asked.

“What?”

“Your parents, is it bad?”

You didn’t talk for a while. Neither boy pushed the subject until you were ready.

“How did you know?” you asked finally.

“People don’t leave home unless they have to.”

And so the group of friends had helped you look for a place to live. You wouldn’t move out until you’d saved enough money, was the plan. Enough to cover 3 months rent and to start buying in preparation for the baby’s arrival, which was 6 months away. 6 months away was no time at all.

You told them this too. You were hanging around the pharmacy on your day off to keep Remus company and Sirius had had the same idea. You were sitting in Remus’ chair, his orders, your hand pressed to your swelling stomach.

“I think she’ll come too soon,” you said. Truth be told, you brought up your baby slightly too often. Sirius rolled his eyes.

“What, she’ll be premature?” he asked.

“Not too soon for her. Too soon for me.”

Remus patted your shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

Your stomach kept growing. Your morning sickness went away mostly, though your stomach still turned whenever it wanted to. Your favourite foods tasted wrong now and you craved things you’d never tried, not to the excess of some other people, but enough that Remus would often indulge you. He’d fallen into the habit of phoning you on the days he hadn’t seen you, asking you how you were. You’d ask after his health, his chronic pain, his bouts of depression.

“I’m brilliant, Y/N, don’t worry about me. How are you?”

“You’re lying.”

“It’s been a long day. What do you want?”

“What are you talking about? Nothing.”

“You sound distracted. You’re craving something weird again, aren’t you?”

Your face glowed with the guilty pleasure of being known by another person. “I want to try pistachios. I’ve never had them, have you?”

He sounded like he was laughing over the phone. “Baby Y/L/N won’t like them, trust me.”

And yet he’d still shown up at your door an hour later with a little box of pistachios. Your parents had given you an icy silence afterwards, but it had been worth it.

You couldn’t wear tight clothes around them anymore, so you were almost always in a jumper. One you’d stolen from Remus, one you’d been gifted by Lily, and one you’d found on clearance at the supermarket. You could’ve bought yourself some maternity clothes, if you wanted to, but you dreaded the idea of spending your money on yourself instead of the baby.

During your fourth month of pregnancy, you had a really bad week. You were worn down, worried that you were affecting the baby, Remus was bed bound with pain in his upper body and feeling useless because of it.

You’d been skirting around your feelings for Remus for a while. You liked him as a friend - he was the best friend you’d ever had - and you worried you loved him. You’d been sitting on a park bench. You’d taken many initiatives to be a happier, healthier person which included long walks through scenic paths and moments of contemplation. Remus had made a habit of accompanying you after you both finished work. You sat thigh to thigh, him with a coffee, you suffering with water. You stared at his hands in jealousy.

“Not long now,” he’d said.

“I’m not even halfway.”

“It’ll go so quickly, sweetheart. You know that.”

You did know that. It just didn’t feel like it yet.

You’d talked about the sky, Lily’s new job, telemarketing, the cinema, Remus’ new medication, the super moon, the book he was reading. He’d showed you the cassette player he’d found in the charity shopped and you’d listened to the tape that had been inside, music that was sad and not the best you’d ever heard, but there was a 30 second period where you’d both looked out over the grass and the damp pathways, knees touching, when you’d felt a kick.

You’d gasped so loud and so suddenly Remus had spilled his coffee all over the ground. You apologised profusely, pressing your hand to your stomach.

“What? What?”

You’d slipped your hand under your jumper and shirt, pressing circles into your stomach until you’d felt it. Your baby was kicking. You’d looked at Remus, eyes full of joy.

You’d grabbed his hand and held it over the place where the skin was stretching. It felt weird, uncomfortable and a smidge tight, but mostly it was a confirmation. Your baby was real. She was real and kicking. Remus had looked at you like you were the most precious thing on earth and you were hard-pushed to get his hand from your tummy afterwards. So yes, maybe you loved him.

You clung to this memory on the bad days and longed to feel a kick again. She didn’t do it often yet, but Lily assured you they could get aggressive.

You visited Remus. He was on his sofa, looking as though the colour had finally returned to his cheeks.

“Feeling any better?” you asked him.

“I am,” he said. His voice was clearer than it had been in days. “How’s bump?”

“Bumpy.”

“How’s mum?”

You flopped down on his sofa next to him. “Don’t call me that.”

He let his arm come around your shoulders in an imitation of a hug. You let your head fall on his shoulder. “How are you then, sweetheart?”

You scrunched your eyes shut. “I think I’m sick. It’s dangerous for me to be sick. What if something happens?”

“You’re not sick.”

“How do you know?”

“Do you have any cold symptoms?”

“…”

“You’re not sick. You’re tired. Go sleep.”

“I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about my scan.”

“That’s days away.”

“What if something’s wrong?”

“It won’t be.”

“You don’t know that,” you mumbled into his arm.

“I know it’s,” he struggled for the words, “not my place, but if you want me to go with you, I will.”

You’d gone to your first scan alone. The sonograms of her, so small, hadn’t felt real. You kept the picture in a box of crackers in your room.

“I actually wanted to ask you something.”

You looked at him and realised you’d ignored his question. “Of course I want you to come.”

He nodded, looking filled with something. “Do you… like me?” he asked.

You kept your head in his shoulder. “You know I do.”

“Right, but do you like me? Because I like you.”

“You like me?” you asked incredulously, frozen.

“I’ll take care of you,” he said, voice wilting. “I promise.”

“You don’t have to say these things, Remus. You don’t have to take care of me. I’ll be alright.”

He pushed the hair back from your face. It was strange to be having such a serious conversation in such a relaxed position. You supposed he was so tired, like you were. And you both knew that although you had your own reasons to doubt yourselves, the love was there.

“Tell me again when I’m having a good day and I’ll believe you’re not just trying to save me,” you whispered.

“I will,” he promised. “I will.”

-

You sat with Remus in the waiting room of the ultrasound, leg jumping. He didn’t mind, reading the leaflets and posters tacked on the wall aloud for you to calm you down. It wasn’t working. This was your mid-pregnancy scan, you were 21 weeks along and looked it in today’s outfit, and you were terrified.

Remus put his hand on your leg. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.”

“It’s fine.”

“It is not fine!” you said angrily, your hormones getting to you for once.

“You’ll love her no matter what, won’t you?”

“Of course I will!”

“Then it’s fine. Here, have one of these,” he said, offering you a worthers from his pocket. You took it roughly and then felt bad. “Thanks,” you said apologetically, mouth full.

“You’re welcome. Try and relax,” he soothed.

Soon you were called in by a stout, grumpy woman who called Remus ‘dad’. You didn’t bother correcting her, too nervous and your bladder so full that your mind couldn’t focus. You laid out on the table, hands shaking from the nerves. Remus deftly slid his fingers between yours and held your hand to his chest. You both watched the screen in morbid trepidation, and there she was.

The ultrasound technician worked mostly in silence, taking measurements and clicking buttons you didn’t understand.

“You want to know the gender?” she asked gruffly.

Remus was halfway through a yes, please, when you said, “Is she alright?”

“She’s fine. Beautiful, really, everything in order and she’s big for her age. 93rd percentile.”

Remus brought your joined hands to his mouth to kiss your knuckles and you promptly burst into tears.

-

“I’m so happy she’s okay,” you told him later, walking down the hallways with your cold, sticky stomach hidden back under your clothes and a biscuit and a napkin in the other. Remus was leading you by the hand down the hospital from the cafeteria, where he’d just bought you your buttery biscuit. You’d been so sick with worry you hadn’t been eating properly and he was determined to get some sugar in you before you crashed. Next he was thinking he’d force feed you something hearty before he sent you to bed for the foreseeable future.

“You’ve been taking great care of her,” he complimented you, grateful that you’d allowed him to hold your hand for so long.

Remus had fancied you since the day he’d first seen you and everyday after that, even when you’d come into the pharmacy looking peaky and then the second time, when you’d cried.

He wondered if today counted as a good day for you - it must, surely? Would you accept his confession now?

All he wanted to do was lie you flat in his bed and kiss you silly, sometimes. He’d settle for holding your hand. You realised eventually that you were still gripping onto him and so you squeezed his fingers a final time and let them drop, eating your biscuit ravenously.

“How’d you know she was a girl?” he asked you. Right from the start you’d been saying ‘she’.

You put your hand right at the bottom of your abdomen. “I just knew. It never occurred to me that she wasn’t.”

“Are you going home to yours or coming to mine?” he asked.

“Can I come to your house? I want to be happy about this out loud for a while longer,” you told him, wiping your fingers clean on your napkin.

“‘Course you can.”

You got a taxi home. He felt right as rain today and would’ve enjoyed the walk, but you’d been complaining of sore feet lately, and the bus was always so crowded out of the city.

“I’ll have to move out soon,” you said in the taxi. “They’re worse than before, and I’m getting more and more obvious. I left a breastfeeding leaflet on my bedroom floor the other day and only noticed it when my dad was standing in the doorway.”

“James says his mother can put you somewhere if you have an emergency, and you know you can stay with me,” he said lightly.

“It’s hardly an emergency… yet,” you said. “Anyways, the longer I stay with them the more money I can save for baby.”

“‘For baby’?”

“What else should I say?”

“The baby?”

“Well, she’s not the only baby, she’s just mine.”

He laughed at you, eyes drifting down to your lovely round belly. The pregnancy glow that people talked about was absolutely real, Remus would testify, he would swear it in court. You were gorgeous even tired and stressed, and he couldn’t help thinking about it now as you rubbed your hand up and down your stomach. Did it make you more attractive to him, how intensely you loved the life growing inside you? Maddeningly. He’d found you beautiful before. Now, you were angelic.

“Listen,” he said, “it’s only going to get harder from here. You’re so tired sometimes, you do too much. If you move out you can rest.”

You shook your head. “I have to work anyways, I can’t rest.”

“You can’t work and play housemaid.”

“I don’t play housemaid,” you said, scowling. He regretted his words, regretted how your good mood fell away.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.

You huffed. The taxi pulled up outside Remus flat and he paid, holding the door open. You said thanks with little attitude so he assumed he was forgiven.

“When baby's born I’ll have to work. If I can’t handle this now I won’t manage in a few months, and I need to be able to manage.”

Remus huffed a laugh. You didn’t say much in the lift and he didn’t mind, watching you in the mirrored wall. You walked out of the lift and he opened the flat door, where you wasted no time sprawling out on his sofa, careful of your bump.

He stood in the doorway, hesitant to bring it up again.

“Do you remember what I said to you? I’ll take care of you,” he said quietly, standing just in front of the closed door.

You stared at him.

“It’s a good day, isn’t it?” he asked you.

“Remus,” you started.

“I’m not saying you would stay home and play housewife all the time, but you need to rest and I want you to. I want what’s best for you, sweetheart.”

Your hand drifted to your tummy.

“Move in with me for now. Get your own place when you can - or don’t, I don’t care. And when baby comes you can finally stay still for a bit.”

"Remus."

"It's not a misaligned need to save you, or pity or worry or whatever you're telling yourself. You said to tell you on a good day and you'd believe me, so believe me.

"And if you don't want me, that's okay too. I just want you to know you have the option.”

"Of course I want you. I don't see why you want me, is all,” you said, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. “I’m pregnant, Remus, used goods.”

“Tell me you don’t think that of yourself,” he pleaded.

You smiled at him placatingly, in a way that made him want to wrap you up in bubble wrap, before looking down at your hands. “It’s true.”

He took careful, slow steps towards you.

“Your being pregnant doesn’t make you used goods. You can have as much sex as you like and you still wouldn’t be used. You’re funny, and smart and kind and pretty; you get prettier everyday. And the way you take care of you to-“ he gestured to your stomach, “to take care of her, that makes you the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

You held your hand out. He gave you his, heart pounding, and you put it against your stomach, smiling at him softly. “Alright, Remus. I believe you.”

-

“And you’re sure it won’t hurt the baby?” Remus asked, lips pressed to yours, hand just below your chest.

“I’m positive,” you said, giggling.

“But how can you know?” he asked, looking down at your baby bump sceptically.

“Lily told me so,” you said, hands already teasing the waistband of his dark jeans. Remus pressed you down flat against his pillows in a move he knew you enjoyed, having performed it many times in the month you’d been seeing each other officially.

Your hair spread out behind your head. You looked up at him, your bright eyes shining like the setting sun, lidded and charged. He licked a stripe up your jawline to make you laugh, unbelievably pleased when you did, batting his head away gently.

His hand crept under your flowing maternity smock shirt to explore your chest, deft fingers quick to locate your perked up nipple. Your breasts were heavy, tender under his touch - he loved the catch in your breath when he pinched your skin.

“And how does Lily know?”

“She’s been pregnant.”

“She’s not telepathic.”

“Remus,” you said, tone coloured with humour. “Do you really believe you’re big enough to reach my womb?”

He pinched slightly harder. You moaned and wiggled underneath him where he sat atop your thighs. He grinned in satisfaction and took the hem of your shirt between his fingers to pull it up to your neck, exposing your tits, which bobbed up and down with your moving chest.

“You’re giving me dead legs,” you complained.

“You liar,” he accused, face screwed up in disbelief.

“Take your trousers off, won’t you? Ease the load.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked, hand pressed to his chest.

“Depends,” you said, hands coming up to cup your tits, “is it working?”

“No,” he said lovingly, kissing the skin where your chest started to rise.

You moved your hands to his hair, brushing it out of his face with featherlight movements. “It won’t hurt again, will it?” you asked tentatively, lips pressed together in concern.

“No, sweetheart. As long as you’re ready, it’ll be fine. It’ll be more than fine. And if it hurts at any point, you tell me and we’ll stop. Okay?” he told you.

“Alright,” you said, chest deflating as you relaxed. He kissed your skin again and clambered off of you to strip until he was in just his boxers, helping you out of your shirt and thick, stretchy leggings.

He’d wondered a lot in the last month how you’d look completely nude. You hadn’t brought up sex once since he’d kissed you on the sofa, and so he’d assumed you’d let him know when you were ready, until one day you’d asked him, “Do you find my body unattractive?”

He’d cleared that up straight away. You really hadn’t been ready to have intercourse yet. Instead, you’d tried lots of different things beforehand that had proved mutually pleasurable for you both.

He was blown away by the sight of you - your legs were a feat of nature, truly. He took it upon himself to kiss up the length of them, amused by your shy smile, until he was face to face with your underwear, your legs pushed up as much as you could manage so he could lie between them. His thumb found your centre, pushing up into the flesh of your clit, the bud soft and warm under his touch, and your breathing hitched. He repeated the action, drawing soothing circles in the fabric, and soon your breaths were fast and shallow.

He pushed your underwear to one side and teased the line of your slit with his fingertip, circling your dampening entrance slowly. “Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” you said quietly. He nodded, pushing the beginnings of his middle finger inside you with extreme care. He flicked his eyesight between your face and his movements. Your mouth was open. If he went any lower down your bump would get in the way and he was determined to watch your expression, so he balanced on his elbow.

You were tight around his finger. He worked slowly and added the second, encouraged by your twitching thigh. He pushed in to the knuckle and you gasped. When he looked up you’d pressed your fingers to your mouth.

“Hurts?”

“No,” you said quickly, and then flushed.

“Swear?”

“It feels nice, stop fishing.”

He grinned, he had been fishing. He scissored his fingers inside you, wetness starting to really work out of you and ease his pumping. He adored the breathy sounds that floated out of you. His fingers pushed to the hilt, Remus set about finding your g-spot, or any pleasure he could give you, curling his fingers inside you. You gasped again, covering your whole face with your hands.

“You liked that, huh, bub?” he asked, curling his fingers again. You moaned in confirmation.

Remus pushed up onto his knees to regain control of his other hand and used it to circle your clit again. You were overwhelmed at first by both sensations and quickly got used to them in tandem, whispering for Remus to go faster.

“Faster?” he repeated.

You nodded. He quirked his wrist so that every thrust of his fingers had his knuckles flat at your opening. Your self-restraint was weaning and you couldn’t stop from moaning loudly, hips bucking to meet his thrusts, cunt shiny and reddened from the repetitive force against it.

He didn’t rush, taking great pleasure in your pleasure. Although he was no stranger to you, he felt like he was learning so much from the way you trembled, the lilt in your moans when he curled just right.

You caught his wrist. “I’ll finish,” you protested.

He paused, smiling up at you. “That’s the point.”

“I want to when you’re inside me,” you said.

He groaned, feeling his aching dick twitch in his trousers at the sentiment. “It’s not pay-per-cum, you can do it again.”

You laughed so loudly your voice cracked. “What’s wrong with you? I’m begging you to fuck me and you’re a comedian now?” you said, a splitting smile on your face.

“That was hardly begging. More like gentle encouragement. You can do better.”

You shifted, lost now he wasn’t touching you. “You’re really gonna make me beg?” you asked softly.

“Yes,” he answered, prodding your clit again. You jolted at the contact and closed your eyes, knees tilting inwards.

“Remus,” you tried, voice wavering, “please. Please, will you fuck me?”

“All you had to do was ask,” he said, and then, perhaps cruelly, rubbed a tight circle into your clit until you were crying out, back tensed.

He watched your cunt contract with fascination, felt his mouth go dry. He was straining against the fabric of his trousers. His hand slipped under them with hardly a second thought,

You opened your eyes reluctantly and figured out what he was doing, stretching your hands out towards him. “Can I?” you asked. He crawled across the rumpled sheets to kneel in front of your face. You turned onto your side and took his cock into your hand, touch like silk, clumsy despite previous attempts. He didn’t care in the slightest, hand rubbing up and down your shoulder as you played with him, tracing the soft pad of your index finger in a circle around the head of his dick. You were being your lip in concentration, so he held his hand to your face and pulled your cheek with his thumb.

You looked up at him quizzically. “Hi,” you said.

“Hi, pretty,” he murmured, tilting your head back to dot kisses at your jawline. Your hand stuttered where it was moving from the attention. He covered it with his own and put you back on track. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

Your chest heaved. “Am I doing a good job?”

“The best job,” his breathing turned shallow, eyelids drifting shut, “just like that.”

He dragged your hand up his shaft until he was confident you wouldn’t stop and set both hands at the slope of your shoulders, rising up your neck to bury them at the base of your skull, fingers weaving through your hair. You leaned forward to plant a kiss on the side of his abdomen before dropping down to do the same to his dick. He held your hair back as you worked him, sucking the head of his cock in your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around it like he was a lollipop. He encouraged you forward, careful not to fuck into your throat. Your morning sickness was mostly gone nowadays but your general nausea was like a faulty fuse. You bobbed up and down on his cock so that the head distended the soft skin of your cheek until he was covered in your spit.

He pulled away. “Be careful.”

You didn’t even have the decorum to look scolded, instead laying flat on your back again. He held your head up to push another pillow underneath your neck.

He pulled you sideways so you were on a diagonal, pushing one of your legs up to rest on his thigh. He rubbed the head of his dick at your entrance. You visibly held your breath.

“What did I say earlier?”

“Uhmmm…”

“Tell me if it hurts. I’m not joking.”

You gifted him a soft upturn of your lips. “I will, silly.”

“I’ll show you silly,” he said under his breath.

He pushed into you steadily, his thumb on your cunt to pull at your entrance. The other hand was gripping your waist, holding you in place. He pushed inside you with his teeth grit, pleasure going straight to the pit of his stomach as he inched forward. Your leg you were using to keep yourself in place was shaking. He pulled it down flat to relieve the strain, the other pressed to his chest.

His pelvis pressed to yours. You mewled, your fingernails digging into his hand on your hip. “How’s that feel, sweetheart?” This was your second time having penetrative sex, and he wanted it to be better than the first. You were abstracted, gaze clouded up where it was on his face. He pulled out to push in again, this time smoother, quicker. “Feel okay?”

“It feels nice,” you said quietly.

“Only nice?”

“It feels good,” you whined, his thumb further antagonising your clit.

Remus thrusted into you, spreading your tight cunt open. He could hear in your moans that you liked the stretched feeling, and your wetness was further evidence. He pushed into you, over and over, increasing his speed as you relaxed. He was hesitant to use an exorbitant amount of force, pacing himself when he longed to hit your walls, reshape you around his hard cock.

You were pleading, saying something quietly, washed out by his thrusts.

“Speak up, baby,” he said, holding your leg to his chest, allowing his dick to drive even deeper in your dripping cunt.

“Please, Remus,” you said, reaching between you both, a look of ecstasy on your face.

“What, baby, what do you want?”

“Faster,” you moaned. Well, he was never one to deny you, careful not to lean his weight on your abdomen as he adjusted, fucking into you and pulling you down to meet him simultaneously. You were overcome by this, pressing the side of your face into the cushions, mouth open and panting. Remus fucked into you so quickly he was panting himself, barely stopping to grab your wandering hand.

Your weeping cunt was soiling the bed sheets, a translucent circle formed beneath you. He couldn’t believe how wet you were, and slowly found it difficult to find purchase on your clit with one finger. He pressed all of his fingers in your sensitive button instead and opted for quick, fast lines of movement whilst he plowed into you. A moan like a half-sob left you, your hips tensing up under his hand.

“Fuck,” you said, throwing your hips down into his cock, spearing yourself open, “oh my god, Remus.”

He pushed into the hilt and towered over you, pushing your upper leg back as much as he could, weary of your bump. From there he fucked you deeply, hitting your tender spot over and over. You could barely look at him, barely speak, a stream of curse words and compliments slipping from your mouth. He hooked your leg over his shoulder and kissed your knee cap lovingly.

“Gonna cum again, sweetheart? I know you can.”

You looked as though you might start crying, tears clinging to your eyelashes. “You’re so deep.”

“Uh-huh, so deep in my girl. You take me so well, you know? So well,” he said, punctuating the praise with another deep thrust. You clenched around his dick and he groaned, the drag of him pulling out like heaven, your second release written all over your face.

He pinched your clit spitefully between his index and middle finger and smirked when you came, your leg over his shoulder digging in hard, your cunt clenching around him so tightly he had to pull out. He watched your pretty wet entrance clench around nothing, slick dripping out, with a regretful grin, lips pressed together. Once you’d calmed down enough to open your eyes he pushed back in, hand still on your clit. You reached between you both to steal his hand away, too sensitive for the prolonged stimulation.

“So fucking hot,” he said, so turned on he was sure half the mess between you both is his own precum. His dick pushed into your still trembling cunt, his head aching and so sensitive he had to stop inside you and take a breather, kissing the crest of your stomach, the skin between your tits, and then finally, slovenly, your soft, perfect mouth.

You brought your hands up to his face to keep him there, even though it was a terribly tight squeeze, your stomachs pressed together. If he’d been any shorter it wouldn’t have worked.

After a moment he pulled back to lean his forehead on yours. You were looking at him with wide, wet eyes, so full of fondness and pleasure that he came in you without thinking, a series of short shallow thrusts that milked his cum out of him relentlessly. He gave it a few thrusts for good measure, the mixture of you both seeping out and covering his pelvis.

You were giggling, fuck-drunk and blissed, kissing the length of his arm. “Good thing I already have a bun in the oven.”

He laughed too, pressing a wet smacking kiss to the skin just in front of your ear that had you squealing in protest. “Good thing,” he agreed, the flat of his hand pressed to your stomach.

<3

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[charturnus]

Not because she owns me, but 'cause she really knows me

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

a/n: It’s finally out!! 😭 In case you didn’t see, I’m currently nearing the end of my last semester, and I am SWAMPED with work, which is why fic writing had to be put on hold. I have 4 more weeks until I’m done, after which I’ll return to a regular upload schedule. I’m nervous about putting this out, because I want to be true to what it means to have a healthy d/s dynamic, whilst also keeping in mind that this is highly dramatized fiction. I hope you’ll enjoy!

Warnings: d/s dynamic (not explicitly sexual)

Wordcount: 4.8k

Summary: Chapter IV; Did you get enough of love, my little dove? AU

The one where Pepper shows off her puppy, you plan a staged kiss, and you get on your knees for Wanda.

Previous chapter

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‘’Pepper is coming over today’’ 

She says it casually as she thumbs through a set of documents on the couch next to me. It’s the first time either of us has spoken in an hour, both of us engrossed in our own activities, Wanda busy with her work, and me, fixated by a novel. 

It’s been a month since I moved into the Maximoff residence, and I’ve seen neither hide nor hair from Pepper or anyone from the company for that matter. So, my ears perk up at this news. ‘’Has she decided it’s finally time for me to make my grand entrance?’’ 

Wanda shakes her head, smiling. ‘’It’ll be something along those lines, though I can never quite tell what schemes she’s cooking up.’’ I assumed Pepper was informing Wanda of everything to do with this whole affair. I raise my eyebrows inquisitively. ‘’She hasn’t told you what she’s planning?’’

She snorts loudly. ‘’I’m telling you, even if the CIA got hold of Pepper and let all their torture tactics loose on her, she still wouldn’t budge.’’ I pull a face. ‘’That’s a bit much, don’t you think?’’ Wanda just shrugs, taking off her glasses and setting the papers aside. ‘’You get used to it. But that’s not why I brought this up, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.’’ 

Her serious demeanour takes me somewhat by surprise, and I briefly wonder if I’ve done something to upset her. I set my book aside and turn my full attention onto Wanda. 

‘’Pepper’s going to bring someone with her today, so it’s time for us to have a long-overdue chat.’’ The grave look on her face unsettles me, and I shift restlessly on the sofa, my nails picking at the fuzz on my jumper. ‘’This is very important to me, so I’m going to need you to try to have an open mind, alright? Can you do that for me?’’ 

My brows knit together, but I nod seriously. ‘’Of course, you know you can trust me.’’ I mean it too, knowing that whatever she asked me to do, I’d try my hardest to accomplish. The sight of her reassuring smile works wonders for the tight knot of anxiety building in my stomach. 

‘’Pepper is going to bring her girl over.’’ 

I stare at her blankly, my sluggish mind trying to put the pieces together. ‘’Her girl… friend?’’ I ask uncertainly. Wanda smiles at me. ‘’Yes, Pepper’s girlfriend. But it’s important for you to know that their relationship isn’t exactly what you might be expecting. They-’’ 

My mouth hangs open rather unflatteringly, and I can’t help myself, I have to interrupt her. ‘’I’m sorry, I’m just trying to wrap my head around Pepper having time to have a girlfriend.’’ 

This draws a hearty, earnest laugh from Wanda. ‘’Oh honey, you don’t know half of it.’’

‘’No, I’m serious, I’m telling you, if you’d let her sleep in her office, she would.’’ 

She’s trying very hard to suppress her laughter, fighting the smile creeping up on her face. ‘’That’s all well and good, but I’m trying to tell a story here.’’ To her credit, she pulls off a stern look quite well. It brings me back to the office days. 

I raise my hands up defensively. ‘’Okay, alright. I’m sorry, please continue. 

***

So, Pepper has a girlfriend. Wanda tells me that her name is Kate and that she’s only four months older than me. She tells me a bunch of other things, something about Kate’s rich mother and her being an accomplished archer. But all of that falls to the wayside quite quickly when Wanda delves into the particulars of her relationship with Pepper. 

‘’She’s her what now?’’ 

I am struggling to keep myself composed. It’s not that this concept is foreign to me, far from it. I just can’t quite wrap my head around Pepper, stuck up, wound tight, prim and proper, Pepper, being into this.

‘’That’s just what Pepper calls her, she’s not treated as an actual pet.’’ Wanda says, before backtracking. ‘’Well, maybe a little bit, but that doesn’t matter right now.’’ 

‘’So… They do that stuff together, like, in public?’’

Wanda quirks a brow, the corner of her mouth twitching, as though she’s struggling against an upcoming smirk. ‘’That stuff?’’

Quite suddenly, my cheeks feel very warm. ‘’You know, like kinky stuff.’’

‘’Oh?’’ Wanda says, shuffling closer to me on the sofa. ‘’I didn’t think a sweet girl like you would know anything about that.’’ She’s grinning widely, and I can’t hold eye contact with her any longer. I study the dotted pattern of my socks, determined to ignore the definite heat in my face and neck. ‘’I know plenty of things.’’ I shrug, hoping it comes off as indifferent. ‘’I just want to know if they do it in public, I don’t know why else you’d have to tell me this.’’ 

Wanda on her part graciously avoids mentioning my knowledge in this area any further, and we spend a half-hour talking it all through. She patiently answers my questions to the best of her abilities. She explains in a gentle tone how these types of dynamics are important to Pepper, some of her other friends, and, most surprisingly to me, herself as well. In each other’s company, she tells me, they have agreed to allow each other to live out their dynamics in whichever way they like. 

This leads to a myriad of questions from me, most of which make Wanda chuckle. Yes, sometimes they do sexual things, but not always. No, they don’t all have orgies all the time. Yes, they make sure every party consents before anything happens. No, they won’t be doing anything sexual today. 

It’s a lot to take in. 

‘’So, I take it you have done this too.’’

She’s quiet for a while, while she contemplates my question. Her eyes follow her finger as it traces patterns into the fabric of the sofa. ‘’I had a girl too, a while ago, and we had a dynamic. Pepper knew, and Agatha and Maria.’’ 

A hollow sort of feeling settles into my stomach at the thought of Wanda with some nameless, faceless girl. Before now, I hadn’t given it much thought, but the mere idea of it makes my blood flow like white-hot fire underneath my skin.

‘’It didn’t work out?’’ I ask, hopefully. 

Wanda smiles morosely. ‘’I think she liked my money more than she ever liked me.’’

***

Five hours later, I’m sitting on the very edge of the sofa, trying to resist the urge to wipe my sweaty palms on it. I did my hair for the occasion, curling it in a pretty fashion. I even put on one of my nice dresses and picked out dangly earrings that sparkle in the light. For whose benefit this all is, I am not sure. 

I can hear the voices in the hall, getting louder by the second, and I make sure to straighten my back. I am under strict instructions from Wanda to not address Kate, just say hello to Pepper and don’t mind her partner. My protests about how rude it would be to just ignore her were repeatedly disputed by Wanda, and I was overruled.

Pepper carries a thick folder in one hand, and in the other, a purple leash. It connects to a tight collar, like a dog’s, which is fastened around the girl’s throat. Instantly, I feel myself go bright red. I force myself to look at Pepper’s face, not the leash in her hand, and certainly not the slightly shorter brunette trailing behind her. 

Pepper is immaculately put together, in a white skirt suit that compliments the deep red colour of her nails and lips. She wears a smug, satisfied look when she eyes me, waiting for a crack in my veneer, waiting for me to comment on the girl half-hidden behind her. I hold my tongue, remembering Wanda’s strict instructions to only greet Pepper. We exchange pleasantries, talking of small things, like the weather and the atrocious gas prices, as Pepper and her companion settle in. Wanda cosies up on the sofa next to me, but Pepper chooses an armchair opposite us, and the girl called Kate, sinks down onto the floor by her feet. 

I am focused so intensely on not staring at the kneeling girl, that even though I see Pepper’s mouth move, her words don’t register in my head at all. Wanda’s steady hand covers my own, and I realize for the first time that I’m shaking. Pepper repeats her question, something about how much I enjoyed having Wanda to myself for a week. It’s easy enough to thank her for this, since I really am sincerely thankful for the time she allowed us to have together. After this, though, I hand the conversation over to Wanda and the old friends happily chatter away together as their two shadows silently flank them, watching, listening. 

From the corner of my eye, I watch Kate. It’s difficult to do just from my peripheral vision, but I can tell that she’s resting her head against Pepper’s thigh, her knees tucked neatly under herself. Pepper has a hand in the girl’s hair, moving slowly, almost methodically, stroking her gently. Her eyes are closed, her breathing slow. I wonder what she’s thinking. I wonder what she’s feeling. I wonder if her knees ache. Mine would ache if I sat like that for so long. I wonder if Wanda would like it if I sat like that for her. I wonder-

A sharp prod in my side shakes me from my reverie, and I look up to see Pepper smirking at me from across the coffee table, a single eyebrow raised, waiting for my reaction, waiting for me to run from the room or to question the scene in front of me. 

I don’t. Instead, I listen politely to Pepper repeating her question.

She wants us to attend a gala together, some charity fund-raiser. According to her, it’ll be the perfect way to hard launch our ‘relationship’. 

‘’Just think about it!’’ She says, waving around the papers in her hand emphatically. ‘’The two of you, waltzing around this event together, no one knows who you are, of course-’’ She adds with a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘’So that will work in our favour, everyone will be clambering to find out who you are and why Wanda brought you.’’ 

The thought of anyone genuinely wanting to know who I am, and perhaps going to certain lengths to find that out, unsettles me greatly. But Wanda looks so happy, her eyes crinkled up in a smile as she studies the booklet on the event that Pepper gave her. So, I decide to hold my tongue. 

‘’So are we just supposed to go around telling everyone at the event that we’re dating, or…?’’ Upon seeing Pepper’s look of agitation, I trail off, letting my words die quietly in my throat. 

Wanda riffles through a few of the documents on the coffee table and pulls out a slim folder. Through the see-through transparent sleeve, I can make out some sort of drawing, or animation. It looks like a still from an animated project that is still in development. Like those terrifying images of Disney characters before their animation is fully complete. 

She pulls the sheets of paper out of the sleeve, handing them to me as Pepper pulls out her own version of this packet of papers. The paper is heavy and glossy, several large images printed out, each on their own sheet of paper. There’s a building plan, showing the skeleton of a large opera house. Locations are marked with red marker, showing the entrance, the exits, the bathrooms, locations marked with security, etc. There’s a guest list, pictures of hundreds of people printed out in neat little rows, their names, ages and occupations listed below them. 

The images that capture my attention most, are the ones right at the front of the packet. The ones that are vaguely reminiscent of half rendered animations. The pictures show several different angles of the back of a limousine, they look like pictures taken through the windscreen of the car, the camera flash lighting up the backseat of the car, where two crudely animated people are clearly kissing.

*** 

Pepper lays out her plan step by immaculate step. She has it all worked out. The colour scheme of the outfits, the delicate matching jewellery, and even our path through the building have been planned out. Pepper has made sure that we will interact with all the right people, the guests who are well known to be gossips, so that we can be sure to be the talk of the evening. 

‘’And then, after you’ve made your last round, the car will be waiting at the front entrance-’’ Wanda leans over to look at the building plan in my hands, where our path is stippled out in different coloured markers, the broken up line beginning and ending at the front entrance. 

‘’There will be paparazzi, of course, some of them are our own, but not all, so be on your guard. You should look like you don’t want to be photographed, don’t smile or pose, and definitely don’t engage them. So, when you get-’’ 

‘’Hold on.’’ I interrupt her, raising my hand to stop her mid-sentence. At her feet, Kate shifts her weight, her eyes opening, watching me with reproach. ’’What do you mean by paparazzi of our own?’’ I’m addressing Pepper, but it’s Wanda who answers.

‘’We have bonds with some photographers who we pay to stage candid shots, whenever it’s necessary, to assist with some PR work.’’ 

‘’So that’s what we’re going to do? Stage a kiss and have them take the picture?’’ 

‘’If you had just let me finish, I would have got to it.’’ Pepper points out, idly twisting the leash between her fingers, her glossy red nails shining in the light. ‘’Once you’re in the car you’re going to drive a few blocks, the car you’re in won’t have a partition, and we’ll make sure our guys are stationed at the exact right spot to get the shot they need. The driver will give you a sign, and you two can get the show rolling.’’ She wiggles her eyebrows, and I make a point of not looking at Wanda. 

‘’Come morning, you’ll be on the front page of every paper and magazine you can imagine.’’

*** 

Our guests leave after an hour and a half of more planning, many questions, and plenty of chatter between the two friends. Once, Pepper gives me a start, when she, mid-conversation, leans down to give Kate a long, languid kiss. I know I ought not to have stared, but the sight of Pepper hooking a single finger into the ring of Kate’s collar makes me freeze. She holds the girl’s face with one of her hands, nails digging into the skin of her cheek. Kate doesn’t seem to mind. Wanda’s eyes burn into the side of my head, I know I should look away. I don’t.

Once Wanda has walked the two of them out, she joins me back on the sofa. Now that we’re alone again, I feel comfortable enough to curl up on the cushions once more, my legs tucked under me. I lean against her with a heavy sigh and shut my eyes. 

‘’That was a lot, huh?’’ Wanda chuckles, and my head bounces along with her shaking shoulders.‘’God, absolutely… At least it’s all been planned out for us, so we don’t have to think it all up too.’’ Wanda lays her head down on my own and hums thoughtfully. ‘’I meant with those two putting on that show.’’ She says quietly. ‘’It looked like you were a bit nervous.’’

‘’Oh.’’ I say stupidly. I did not expect Wanda to bring it up at all. I was so sure she would just breeze past it because it’s just so normal to her. ‘’I wasn’t really nervous, it was just-’’ I hesitate, not wanting to cause offence. ‘’unexpected.’’

Wanda doesn’t respond immediately, she just hums again, acknowledging what I said, but still allowing room for the statement to breathe. ‘’What did you not expect? I did explain to you what would happen.’’ She muses. ‘’But the kiss was a bit unexpected I guess, I told Pepper off for it when I let her out.’’ 

‘’I just don’t really understand why Kate would want to do that.’’ I blurt out, making Wanda laugh. ‘’Hey, I don’t want to make out with Pepper either, but to each their own.’’ I elbow her gently in her side, unable to stop myself from smiling. ‘’You know that’s not what I meant.’’

‘’Alright, I’m sorry! What did you mean by it, then?’’

‘’It’s just- I get the whole sexual aspect of it, but why would she want to sit on the floor like that when nothing sexual is happening, does she get off on that or something?’’

Wanda considers this for a moment, and when she speaks it seems to me like she chooses every word very carefully. ‘’Some people only engage in a dynamic for sexual reasons, so it’s confined to the bedroom. But there are some people who want more than that, and they choose to live their lives like this. It’s what makes them happy, it’s how they function best as a couple. It goes way beyond sexual intimacy.’’ 

Theoretically, this makes perfect sense, but I still don’t quite understand how kneeling at Pepper’s feet is something that makes Kate happy if it’s nothing sexual, and I tell Wanda so. 

‘’It’s a matter of giving up control, I think.’’ She says earnestly. ‘’She puts all of her trust in Pepper and gives up her autonomy. Think about it, Pepper tells her where to go, where to sit, and when to speak. She doesn’t have to make those decisions, she doesn’t even have to think about it. They’re a bit of an extreme example, but giving over that control makes her happy. And I think you know how much Pepper enjoys being handed control.’’

I nod slowly, mulling it all over in my head, wondering what it would be like to not have to make every minute decision for myself. ‘’Don’t you think it might be nice to let go every once in a while? Give the reins to someone else, so you can focus on emotions, as opposed to thoughts?’’

My heart stutters in my chest, picking up its pace, ever so slightly. ‘’I don’t know…’’ I hesitate. The idea of letting someone else do all the thinking for me sounds beyond freeing, but insecurity and doubt have me bound. ‘’I feel like I’d mess it up by being awkward or uncomfortable… I could only do that with someone I really trust.’’

I feel Wanda smile against my temple, her breath hot against my skin. ‘’Do you trust me?’’ 

I don’t hesitate, not for a single second. ‘’Yes.’’

‘’Would you like to try it out for yourself? Just to see what you think of it?’’ I flush, my neck and cheeks grow hot at the thought of myself kneeling at Wanda’s feet, just as I watched Kate do by Pepper’s. ‘’Wouldn’t that be… I mean- We don’t do that stuff together.’’ 

Wanda laughs, not mockingly, but sweetly, her voice gentle even in her laughter. ‘’It’s not sexual, not if we don’t want it to be. Think of it as meditation. You allow me to take over the burden of all of that thinking and worrying and all you have to do is do as I ask and sit quietly by me.’’ I nod my head before I get a chance to overthink it. What’s the harm? It’s just like Wanda said, it’s basically a meditation exercise. 

‘’I have a phone call to make.’’ She says, as she gently extracts herself from me, swinging her legs down to sit primly upright. ‘’It won’t be long, maybe 10 minutes. You can sit between my legs, however you like, you don’t have to kneel if you don’t want to.’’

I am acutely aware of a slight tremble in my hands and the pressing heat of my cheeks. If Wanda notices the redness in my face, she doesn’t mention it, and I’m grateful for that. I move awkwardly, unsure at first of what position to take. I settle for sitting down with my back towards Wanda, in between her legs and resting against the soft cushion of the sofa. I swing my legs to the side, tidily tucking them out of the way. 

‘’Are you comfortable?’’ Wanda asks, and I nod, grateful that I don’t have to look her in the eyes. A strange combination of shame and elation fills my chest, swirling around inside me, speeding up the beating of my heart and making my stomach clench in anxious anticipation. 

‘’If you want to stop at any time, for whatever reason, give me two taps on my legs, okay? Can you do that now to show me you understand?’’ I tap the flat of my palm twice against her calf, the fabric of her trousers swishing as I do so. 

‘’Good girl. When you tell me you want to stop, I’ll end the phone call immediately, alright? And don’t be scared to tap out, you’re safe with me.’’ 

I let out a long sigh, shifting the hem of my dress to cover the rapidly cooling skin of my calves. ‘’Okay, I think I’m ready.’’

***

Wanda begins her phone call, chatting away to Maria Hill, the woman who now holds my old position. For a few seconds, I listen attentively to the conversation, Wanda’s easy manner and the casual tone of voice reminding me of how well acquainted the two of them are. Then I remember that I shouldn’t be doing all this thinking, so I make an effort to clear my mind. 

I take several deep breaths in through my nose, letting the air out through my mouth. Wanda must take notice of this, because her free hand finds my hair, smoothing it back from my forehead before sliding her fingers through the strands. Slowly, methodically, she scratches her nails over my scalp. The rhythm of her swirling fingers is hypnotizing, I close my eyes and allow the repetitive movement to lull me into a deep state of calm. 

Everything else around me falls away, everything but the feel of Wanda’s fingers on my scalp and her voice somewhere in the distance. I lean against her thigh, resting the side of my face against the soft fabric of her trousers, feeling the gentle heat of her skin blooming underneath. My ear presses against her and I hear the blood thundering through my veins, like the crashing of ocean waves against the shore. Wanda’s hand steady in my hair feels like safety, like coming home after a long night out. It feels like hot chocolate during a snowstorm and being tucked into bed. 

When her phone call ends, I feel strangely sad, and partly annoyed at having to stop so soon. But Wanda doesn’t make any move to end this, whatever we might call it. The room is silent now, no longer filled with Wanda’s low raspy voice, her accent thick on certain words. She’s sitting very still, not moving a muscle, almost like she’s trying not to disturb me. 

I allow myself to adjust slowly, like waking myself up after a tiring night, gently coaxing my mind back to consciousness in the early hours of the morning. Groggily, I open my eyes, somehow surprised to find the room still permeated with daylight. I feel sleepy, my limbs heavy from relaxation. Wanda stirs for the first time, leaning down to cup my cheek. ‘’Are you okay, honey? Are you ready to get back up?’’ She asks, in a voice slightly above a whisper.

I let out a huge jawn, my jaw stretching wide, making Wanda chuckle. ‘’I’ll take that as a yes.’’ She pats the space next to her on the sofa. ‘’Now we get to the best part.’’ 

‘’Better than that?’’ I wonder out loud, as I gingerly extract myself from the floor. Once I’m out from between Wanda’s legs, she kicks off her shoes, laying back on the sofa, spreading her legs and indicating I should sit between them. ‘’Oh yes, because now I get to reward you for being so good.’’ 

Her arms wrap around my waist, guiding me to lay down with her, my head on her chest, one ear pressed down to hear the steady ‘thump, thump, thump’ of her heart. Over the course of the past month, Wanda and I haven’t shrunk from physical contact, hugs and casual cuddles are standard practice by now, but we hardly ever do anything more intimate than that, at least not during the daytime. In the late hours, it’s all different of course, under the cover of darkness and under the guise of tired delirium, we would hold one another all night, our bodies drawn to each other even in sleep. 

It’s such a rarity to be this close to her at this time of day, and I revel in it. The deep thud of her heartbeat reverberates throughout my body, I breathe in her perfume and allow my eyes to close once more. 

‘’You enjoyed that, didn’t you?’’ Wanda murmurs, her voice quiet, soft enough to not disturb the peace. ‘’You did so well, I’m very proud of you for trusting me and giving it a go.’’ I glow under her praise, it warms me from the inside out, like hot mulled wine on a blustery winter's day. I nod the best I can in this position. ‘’It was nice, I wish it would’ve lasted longer.’’ She hums thoughtfully. ‘’What did you like about it?’’

‘’Everything was so quiet, like I had nothing to worry about for a bit. And…’’ I trail off, my voice getting lost in the rapid current of thoughts, wondering what to say next, and if I ought to say anything at all. ‘’And?’’ Wanda prompts, gentle encouragement nudging me to tell the truth. ‘’And- It just felt good to do what you told me to, and it feels good for that to be acknowledged.’’ I say somewhat sheepishly, the heat returning to my face. ‘’Is that weird?’’

Her arms tighten around me, and she rubs my back with a gentle hand. ‘’It’s completely normal to feel that way, and I’m so proud of you for acknowledging those feelings, I know it isn’t easy.’’ It feels strange to be talked to in this way, for Wanda to treat my small confession as something worth being rewarded for. It’s embarrassing, but I’m still pleased, grateful for the attention in spite of it all. 

‘’I think I just feel a bit weird about liking it, because it’s what Kate was doing, and her and Pepper… You know, they do that because of their… thing.’’ Wanda chuckles gently, our bodies swaying as her shoulders shake. ‘’You don’t have to compare what we did, with what they do. They have their own reasons for that dynamic. If you enjoy it and would like to do it again, there isn’t any harm in it. Like I said, it has nothing to do with sexual intimacy.’’

I turn my face up and towards her, the angle slightly awkward. ‘’We can do this again?’’

She’s looking down at me and I can see her face now, she scrunches up her nose affectionately. ‘’We can do this whenever you’d like, little dove.’’

I rest my head back fully on her chest, her skin is hot against my own where her shirt doesn’t cover it. I look at the skin of her bare arm, curled around my body, holding me tight against her. I reach out a finger, tracing the pattern of freckles, connecting them all like a star chart. She brushes my hair away from my face and presses a soft kiss to my temple. 

My finger stops in its tracks. My skin burns where she kissed me, searing with the gentleness of it all. For half a heartbeat, I wonder what would happen if I turned my head and pressed my lips to hers. Then she leans back, resting her head against the sofa pillows, and the moment passes. My finger resumes its path across her arms. Her demeanour hasn’t changed, she lies there, relaxed, at ease. 

Underneath my ear, pressed tight against her chest, her heart is racing. 

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