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angelofrainfrogs · 2 months ago

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Break My Mind: Ch. 4

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: Gregory must be dreaming this time. No sooner had he come to accept this strange reality where everyone is alive and well, than he’s sent back through time and space to the weekend he got trapped in the Pizzaplex. He’s supposed to help his family get on track for a better future, yet… didn’t he already succeed in his own timeline? Confused but relieved, Gregory drops back into his new life in the mega mall. In fact, who should be waiting for him but Michael, clad in a security uniform and searching for his missing family! Only—the night guard seems a bit more withered than when Gregory last saw him. Not to mention that cold look in his silver eyes…

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

William had let a toolbox drop loudly on the table as he heard Henry’s stark explanation. If Michael hadn't made the eye roll-inducing, incredibly stupid mistake of shoving his Remnant father inside what was essentially steel armor, he might've protested the choice of killing his son. Still, the same boy he used to feed and tell stories to—the boy that people had compared him to for years was a monster. One he should have rid their lives of long ago.

Charlie might not care much for William. Not since his drunken incident... But she was still a bleeding heart. Running a hand through her short and choppy hair, she quietly asked: “You alright, Will…?”

“—Fine. I'm fine,” he insisted, stepping away from the workbench to quickly avoid the discussion. “Let's not speak of it. Gregory, come here, my boy. We should wrap your wrist before the bone sets strangely. Henry? Be a lamb and help me unroll this gauze. My fingers are too round...” Will spoke with a smile in his voice as he tried to focus on the silliness of the situation, pushing the deep-set anxiety and fear of his son far down in his blackened heart.

Will was good with kids. There was a reason Henry had decided to open a children’s entertainment venture with him, after all. He just… wasn’t the best with them all the time. Especially his own.

“I’ve got you,” Henry told him, coming over to assist trying not to dwell on how he’d repeated that statement at nauseam over the years.

“Henry, will you take a second look at these blueprints for me?”

I’ve got you.

“Hen, we need to order more supplies; our stock’s run low.”

I’ve got you.

“Old sport, do you think you could watch my little ones for a bit? I have to get these designs finalized by tomorrow…”

I’ve got you.

“Henry… I-I’m so sorry, I… there’s been an accident…”

I—

I can’t stand you anymore.

That was when it had all ended, their relationship torn apart and never fully repairable. But now, sometimes, flashes of the old William came through… and it was those moments Henry clung to that let him know the good friend he remembered hadn’t always been a figment of his imagination.

“Here, Greg—” With the gauze sufficiently unrolled, Henry glanced to the boy watching him with that intense, silver stare. “—Will’s going to hold your wrist while I wrap it. This’ll hurt, but try not to yell, okay? Bite your shirt or something if you need to scream. We don’t want to attract attention.”

As Charlie, independent as she was, worked on her arm alone, she watched her dad and uncle interact with Gregory. William carefully kneeled as the child trusted the flat of his palm to his fuzzy grasp. The Puppet intervened to help Charlotte, diverting her attention. Her leg springs certainly needed tuning, but for now, Puppet got to work on setting Charlie’s arm back into its own joint. Her friend’s mind just seemed to be in a different state; the last thing Marionette wanted was for her to accidentally severe another connection by accident.

All Charlie could think of was a simple question with no easy answer: why was it so easy for William to be this good person now?

One fateful day it had to be her that he took his anger out on. Sure, she’d be the first to admit that maybe she'd overstepped and made her former uncle mad.

But she thought he loved her like family.

Her gaze was far-off and distant as she observed the tender way that William worked with both her father and their new friend. When Gregory looked as if he was about to cry, a hand shot up to caress the boy's cheek.

“Gregory—I don’t know if you know this, but the last time I got hurt, I told my dog about it,” William began, successfully getting Gregory’s mind away from the pain as Henry wrapped his tender wrist. “Yep—you know what the mutt said to me? He told me: ruff.” He spoke in a deadpan as the tears dissolved in Gregory’s eyes, pain replaced by laughter.

It was so strange how William operated sometimes. As if his own body was haunted by the person he once was, in moments of hardship supporting their little group, only to turn and become cold-hearted the next minute...

The sheer ridiculousness of the joke made Henry snort, though he was quick to correct when William turned that cheerful rabbit face on him.

“I’m not laughing because it was good, I’m laughing because it was so dumb,” Henry insisted, though that sort of stupid humor seemed to be just the thing Gregory needed right now. Will had successfully curbed the tears before they came, and soon Henry was putting the final piece of tape on the gauze to hold it in place. He gave Gregory’s hair another ruffle and stepped back. “Alright, kiddo—all done. Just try to keep pressure off that wrist and it should heal up nicely.”

Turning to check on his daughter, he was pleasantly surprised to see Charlie moving both arms now.

“Oh, fantastic job, sweetheart!” he praised, coming over and lifting her arm to make sure all the joints were functioning properly. “Look at you—a natural mechanic. Makes me a proud papa bear, I’ll tell you that.”

He sniffled loudly and wiped a metaphorical tear from Freddy’s grubby face. Even the forlorn Henry Emily could be funny when the time called for it.

...Henry was a bad liar; always had been. That was why William handled PR and customer service at the diner back in their heydays. Will knew that dumb puns were some of his favorites, even if Emily would never admit to it.

Charlie was distracted momentarily in her work as her father approached her. It was a good thing too; she was going to snap the screwdriver in hand using if she didn’t calm down.

“I learned from the best,” Charlie reminded, side-eyeing Henry with pride. She redirected her anger into something productive—something she could physically fix and see the change in. “Mike really whipped Puppet around badly. She was completely missing screws for her leg joints…”

How Michael was still so fucking resilient after all these years, Henry had no idea. With all the things his rotting body had been through, it was a wonder he still had all his limbs intact. Henry would hate to see the state of him under all those bandages, especially if that glimpse of his face earlier was anything to go by…

“Sorry we let him get you, Puppet,” Henry apologized, his heart going out to the ever-protective robot. In a way, by this point she was like another daughter to him—silent and watchful, the Marionette kept tabs on her big sister’s whereabouts and made sure she was safe. Peering closer at Charlie’s handiwork, Henry gave an approving nod. “Looking good, though! You’ll be back on those legs in no time.”

The Marionette just gave a little shrug. It was her job after all. It didn't matter how many times she broke for the people she loved. As long as they were all collectively okay, then the robot considered her mission successful. Were it not for her and Charlie's unintentional fusion all those years ago, maybe she would've given up—accepted long ago that her purpose had long-since been rendered obsolete. The Puppet waved her lanky hand, attempting to tell Henry not to worry as Charlie found another replacement bolt for her thin joints.

Gregory inspected his bandages, wiggling his fingers experimentally. The swelling had gone down, but with his wrist still immobile, it left Gregory to wonder how long it’d take for the Remnant to help fix the break. Reasonably, it’d only been an hour since his incident with Mike. But Gregory was impatient.

The more he ruminated on Michael's violence towards him, the more his resentment was beginning to grow for the man. Especially as he saw what Mike was doing to the people around him.

What made the Aftons like this? Gregory was far from any armchair psychologist—even he knew that some things like violence just run in the family. Still, though... it hurt to see it happening to someone he loved so fiercely in other circumstances.

“You look mad—are your bandages not tight enough?” asked William, pulling Gregory from the rage he seemed to be stewing in.

“Huh?” the boy asked before actually being able to process what he'd been asked. “No—No, they're great. Thanks for helping with that... I'm just still pissed that Mike tricked me still.”

He was surprised when William placed a careful, plush hand to his shoulder. “Good. Use that anger. Learn from it. Don't let him trick you again.”

“But don’t let it fester,” Henry had to add, sparing a glance over his shoulder. He hadn’t meant to listen in, but they were in a small space after all. Moving back to Gregory’s side, he gently rested a paw on top of his head. “Use the anger, yeah—it’ll help get you past any hang-ups when it comes time to face him. Just… don’t get too lost in it, alright?”

The last thing they needed was another psychotic Remnant-infused kid on their hands….

Henry could see William shifting out of the corner of his eye, but before he could say anything there was a loud bang on the sealed door. Everyone whipped around to stare at the thick metal as a familiar voice came through, muffled but insistent.

“Guys, come on…” Michael sounded half-tired, half-amused. “I’m impressed you tricked Freddy, I’ve got to admit… but there’s only so much you can hide. He’s a smart bear, after all. Now will you open the damn door and hand over the kid?”

“Shit!” Henry hissed, instinctively snatching Gregory into his arms. “Damn it—we need to get out of here now.”

The way they came in was clearly out of the question—who knew how many robot lackeys Michael had by his side. But hopefully that would mean the back way through the stage lift was uninhabited…

Charlie had run out of time to fix her Puppet. There were still so many weak points in her legs. It wouldn't be long until Michael figured out how to bypass the door—being a security guard meant he had unfiltered access anywhere.

“Keep him busy—” Charlie whispered harshly to the others, trying to buy time with money they didn't have.

Gregory's eyes widened at the intrusion. He thought they would be safe here, but Michael turned out to be a much more active enemy to have. It was a shame there was no room for compromise in his heart.

William stood up, moving towards the door as he would say with a roll of his eyes. “What makes you think we have the kid?”

Gregory knew they had to do something. Maybe... Maybe that room was still here; the unused storage space that Vanessa and William bastardized in his own timeline. He scampered to the far side of the room, looking for that fake wall behind the mostly barren shelving unit, pulling manual after manual off the shelves looking for the false one that would open the door.

Michael was busy patting down his pockets in search of the access card he needed. The Master Key would be able to unlock any door, no problem—he just had to find it first. The sound of William’s voice made him pause to let out a scoff.

“Father, please—do you think I’m stupid? I know you’re not letting that little Evan-clone out of your sight again until you’re decommissioned.”

Which Michael would very, very much like to do once he got this damn door open…

“Fuck!” the guard shrieked in a sudden bout of rage, throwing his hands in the air only to slam them hard against the door. Turning to Glamrock Freddy, who was watching him with a concerned tilt in his brow, Michael gave the bear his instructions. “I left the fucking key in my jacket; I’ve got to run back to the office, but you start trying passcodes on the keypad; I don’t remember the stupid code. Do not leave this spot until either I get back or you get in—understand?”

“Yes, Officer Michael,” Freddy replied, nodding his head in deferment.

With an annoyed click of his tongue Michael sped off, shoes pattering against the tiled floor of the Pizzaplex. As asked, Freddy immediately set to work cracking the code for Parts & Service. There was a child inside who needed his help, and he was going to reach him—along with that false rabbit who dared take on Bonnie’s likeness.

William laughed to himself, hands on his stomach as he felt his disintegrating rib bones bend at the effort.

“No, Michael, I know you're stupid—” He'd say as he heard Mike speeding off, as that was something he himself could see him doing. Going towards Gregory, who'd been frantically throwing books and manuals off one of the shelves, he placed a firm hand on the kid's shoulders.

“Calm down,” William intoned, seeing how worked up he was getting. Those few extra seconds spared to them might help in the long run.

“There was a room here! I-I thought maybe....” Gregory attempted to explain, upon seeing the lost look in William's tired and milky stare.

“Son...,” William began, wincing when Gregory began to look desperate. “You can't run from all your problems forever. Sometimes, you have to face them head on. Even if it's scary.”

Before Gregory could protest the idea of fighting Michael, Charlie closed up the Puppet's fabric outer lining, shouting to them that she was all done.

“The stage lift!” Henry exclaimed, frantically pointing in that direction. “If it still works, we can take it up and give them another runaround—buy us some more time!”

Freddy heard the shout, redoubling his efforts to crack the code. He should be able to figure it out with no problem due to his logical processors, but there was this haze in his electric brain that made it hard to access that feature. It seemed Michael’s need for total control had some downsides.

“Do not go anywhere!” he called, blue-tipped claws working tirelessly punching in one number combination after another. “You must come with me, superstar—I only want to keep you safe!”

“Ignore him,” Henry snapped, ushering the group forward. Now that Puppet was functional, she could speed along with Charlie and offer some extra help to guide Gregory on the right path. “If the stage lift works, we go. If not…” His bear face grimaced with all the emotion it could.

If not… they’d have to strong-arm their way past Freddy.

Freddy's voice was convincing, genuinely upset that he couldn't get to him. It broke Gregory's heart to tell the bear “no” when it sounded as if he only had the best intentions for him. Gregory knew by now that this was a mirage, a trick orchestrated under Michael's tyrannical rule.

“I-I'm sorry Freddy!” Gregory called, William scolding him to be quiet as he snatched him up into his arms. “I don't trust Michael—”

“Change of plans—run. We're running now,” Will corrected, looking back over his shoulder as they stepped onto the platform. “How the hell do we get this thing moving, then?”

Charlie knew this would probably be a bad idea; the standing controls were over past the workbench. Abandoning her group, Charlie raced for the controls as William and Henry stepped upon it. It was all ready to launch. All she had to do was slam the button...

Charlie smacked the giant green button with her palm. A pneumatic hiss jolted the platform and sent them at a measure pace above. Far too fast for her to sprint and jump onto it, she watched her family lift above.

“I'll find another way!” she assured them, much to every member of their party’s protests.

“Charlie?! Charlie, god damn it!” Henry shouted, reaching out to grab her. He was stopped from going over the edge at the last second by William's firm grip on his arm, and Henry could only watch as his daughter shrunk out of sight. He shook his head, muttering as he paced towards the center of the platform. “Damn it, she's going to be with them alone! I've got to go back for her; we can't leave her with Michael when he's so pissed...”

As if summoned by his name, the other door to Parts & Service opened with a sudden hiss. Michael was back with the access card, practically shoving Freddy out of the way in his haste to get to the others... but his efforts were in vain. He let out a growl of frustration, seeing the stage lift already slotting into place above. Again, they'd just barely escaped his reach.

Well... not everyone, it seemed.

“Hello, Charlie,” Michael sneered, fixating on his former friend-turned-robot. He'd forgone the mask now, seeing no point in wearing it since Gregory had already gotten a clear view of his rotted face. He'd given up the amiable convincing angle of recruitment—now Michael was hell-bent on brainwashing the kid by force using any means necessary.

And if he could take out a big piece of the competition right now, that would help his cause greatly.

***

The Puppet looked about ready to jump off the platform after Charlie. The fall would ruin any chance of her landing safely without breaking a second time, so Henry was quick to snag a spindly arm while she writhed on the floor, reaching for the person she couldn’t grab as Henry lamented her departure. When the platform slotted into place up top on the main floor, the moment Henry’s grip eased Puppet shot off like a bullet without a word. Their group was scattered, and William growled impatiently.

“Why the hell did she do that?! We could’ve fought them together! DUMB—” William fretted, holding the worried Gregory tightly as he jumped from the stage and into the food court. “Stupid... UGH! We have to get Gregory to safety.”

“I'm not leaving without Charlie!” Gregory hissed, looking back to the stage, fighting William's hold on him as they both struggled for dominance.

“Like fuck you will; Henry, let's go!” the rabbit snapped harshly. The child clearly still didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. Charlie's body may be broken, but in the end, her soul would still be here. Gregory could be lost to them forever should they go back to save Henry's daughter. It all felt like a catch-22, as refusing to save either made William feel...

Well—like a murderer.

Henry was nearly beside himself with conflicted thoughts. William’s line of thinking was valid: Charlie's soul was forever tied to this place so long as Michael was still around to cause chaos. But the thought of seeing his daughter's broken, lifeless body again just—

“...Let's go. We have to keep moving.” He made the decision with a hardened gaze, brushing Gregory's hair as he sped past to take the lead in a quick attempt to soothe. “Puppet's going to help her; she'll be alright. We need to find cover before someone else spots us—I don't doubt Michael will call for backup as soon as he realizes we're gone.”

William couldn't help but feel as if he was failing the Emilys once again with his actions. He tried to tell himself that this was the necessary course, despite how it made him feel.

“Charlie's going to be alright. Alright?” he tried to assure the last two remaining members of their little party. Quickly, he followed Henry, their path unknown. It was merely a matter of moving undetected now.

Gregory didn't care how badly these strange-looking suits smelled. He buried his face away in William's chest to chase away the sight of potential Glamrocks coming to harass them further. Henry told him he was brave... And Gregory wouldn't scream if he didn't actually see any danger heading their way.

If Henry remembered correctly from their previous forays through the Pizzaplex, there was a small storage room behind one of the food stalls on the first level. It wouldn't provide much in the way of protection, but the sheer amount of stuff in there should give amble cover to hide out a little while. Henry led his companions there, only spotting another animatronic at the last second when they rounded a corner. It looked like a flash of grey fur, though he couldn't be certain—and he wasn't going to stay and find out.

Once the trio were inside the room Henry shut the door, shoving a broom through the handles for good measure before ushering them to the far back. Only then did he sit heavily, taking a second to process as he put his face in his paws.

Charlie would be alright.

She was strong, and so was Puppet—together, they were unstoppable.

***

Charlie whipped around as the door swung out of the way. Squatted in a defensive position, she was ready to break into a run at a moment’s notice.

Michael... She had mixed feelings on the guy. Roughly, he was on the same metaphorical par as his father in terms of how much she wanted to punch their lights out. Repeatedly.

“Mike...” Charlie was unsure of the fate that might befall her now. She doubted Michael missed her—hell, he barely missed his own brother after his untimely passing. Though she’d much rather have backup to dole out revenge, it might be necessary to act on her own here and now to save Gregory. She would not let another child die on Fazbear property, no matter the cost.

“Look, Charlie,” Michael began, crossing his arms and slouching slightly to one side. “I don't know why you're still involved in all this—William got an even more tortuous death than you and he's going to rot in that suit for eternity. I made sure of that.”

There was a hint of a truly deranged smile curling the edges of his lips now, those eerie silver eyes locked onto Charlie's own.

“Why don't you just rest? Give up the ghost, so to speak.” Michael let out a soft chuckle at his off-color pun. “I don't want to hurt you again... but I will if you keep getting in my—Freddy, will you stop fucking pacing?!”

Michael suddenly snapped his head to the side, staring down the Glamrock who'd frozen in his tracks. Wide-eyed, Freddy clasped his claws in front of his torso and hung his head, hating that he'd somehow annoyed the guard yet again.

“I am sorry, Officer Michael—I am simply worried about Gregory,” he confessed, and though his words seemed genuine there was a hint of something dark in his eyes. “I do not trust those older models—they are broken, and I fear they cause a great threat to his well-being.”

“That's so true, Fredbear!” Michael replied, sounding as if he was talking to a small child. “Which is why we're trying to get rid of them. And I need your help again—hold Charlie back while I get a head start, will you? They can't have gotten far.”

Freddy was more than happy to comply, nodding as he turned his full attention to Charlie and started towards her with arms outstretched.

Charlie couldn't get a word in edgewise with Michael's psychotic monologuing. She screamed and nearly ran in place as she tried to avoid Freddy's once-gentle arms.

“Don't! We're not your enemies!” she said, though there was no convincing the well-meaning bear. He nearly knocked the unneeded wind out of her with his grasp, her back now pressed against Freddy's chest as he hoisted her into the air.

“MIKE! Please! Please don't do this to Gregory—he's just a kid!” She nearly sobbed from the futility of it all. “Don't hurt him anymore! This can all end tonight if you just—” Charlie pleaded, but her chest plating felt it might burst if she kept struggling and talking in vain. Freddy's grip was like an iron vice, clearly seeing her as a threat at Michael's command.

“I won't hurt him if he stops being a little shit,” Michael responded simply. Satisfied that Freddy had her, the guard turned and began walking off, taking the long way around to the main floor. As the bear followed obediently, Mike lifted his Fazwatch to his mouth—it'd been specially altered to connect to all the Glamrocks so he could control them more easily. “Everyone, the kid's somewhere in the main atrium. I want him captured and brought to me now—use force if necessary.”

There was a chorus of responding growls and affirmations, causing Michael to smirk as he lowered his arm. No way was the kid getting away now.

In Freddy's custody, an annoyed scowl stretched across Charlie’s face as Mike led the two of them towards the surface.

“Could you tell your teddy bear to stop squeezing me so hard?” Charlie joked darkly. “Feels like I'm being strangled again—it's not like I can go anywhere even if I slipped out.”

“I am sorry—”

“Freddy, don't apologize,” Michael snapped, cutting the bear off. “You're not actually hurting her, she's just whining.”

Freddy fell silent, though he did loosen his grip just a tad. Not nearly enough for Charlie to wriggle lose, but enough to not risk crushing some metallic ribs.

This was all for Gregory's benefit, he kept reminding himself. Michael was a guard and had the child's best interests at heart, despite his... abrasive nature. Surely that had to be the case—why else would he be doing all this?

“You're such a bastard, Mike,” Charlie groaned, head hanging forward as she felt less claustrophobic without the unneeded grip around her chest. Now that she could take in more simulated breaths, she tried to goad him into talking more—the best option was to waste his time in favor of buying her friends some instead. “You're wasting your energy, too. We're going to get Gregory out of here. Just you wait...”

Suddenly, there was a skittering ahead; the sounds of something quick hitting the ground in a short run. Whatever it was had darted out of sight, disturbing their walk for just one moment. Charlie felt her mechanical heart kickstart—but, in rare form, not from fear.

“Oh... Oh man, Mike, you fucked up now,” Charlie warned, cryptic as she smirked to herself. She just prayed her hero would be quick, hopefully learning her previous lesson when dealing with Michael Afton...

“What?” With narrowed eyes, Michael peered through the darkness for the new foe. He’d heard that sound far too many times to have any doubt as to what it belonged to.

“Ugh, don’t tell me you got that hunk of junk working again…,” he groaned, slowing his pace ever so slightly and unhooking his taser from its holster. The Puppet caught him unaware last time, and he’d nearly gotten his own limbs ripped off in her frantic scramble for power. She might look skinny and harmless, but she was really fucking tough.

“Freddy, don’t let Charlie go no matter what happens,” Michael said, not even bothering to turn around. He knew the bear heard and would do as he was told. Freddy trusted him implicitly, after all—Mike had made sure of it.

Charlie hung limp. There wasn’t a thing she could do in this cramped hallway. There was a chance she may be able to force Freddy’s arms open, but there was an equivalent chance he could snap her in half like a dry pizza crust first. Before them, the hallway tapered open into a row of costume racks and stacked crates blocking their path. This made Charlie laugh; Puppet was fucking with him. She wondered where the animatronic had gone, but even she could hardly predict her longtime friend.

“Oof—” Charlie said out loud, looking at the tall stacks of abandoned crap blocking their way. She snickered to herself, hoping the inconvenience would piss Mike off the way that his existence did for her. “—Looks like you’ll have to go a different way. You know, unless you feel like crawling over all that shit. Or, maybe Freddy’s huge ass could crush the crates.”

“Shut up,” Michael snapped, grinding his jaw and balling his hands into fists.

Great. Just great. Yet another fucking inconvenience.

It’d take just as much time to clamber over the blockade than it would to turn back and use the stage lift like the others. It’d surely reset by now, and with the other Glamrocks ordered to the atrium Michael would have his choice of robotic backup when he left Freddy behind to hit the button.

…Then again, this could be just what Puppet wanted. Either way, Michael knew he was about to get even more annoyed no matter what path he took.

“Ugh—come on,” he said, shoving past Freddy and his captive as he marched back to Parts & Service. “I’m going the other way.”

“But, Michael—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Freddy!” The guard let out an annoyed huff. The bear was seriously starting to get on his already-fraying nerves. “Damn, did they have to make you so fucking pushy?!”

Charlie began to snicker at him again. This was rich. After so much torture at the hands of the rogue security guard, she really needed to see her former friend’s annoyance in person. In a way, his incompetence was lifting her spirits.

“Wow.” She laughed out with hard roll of her bright green eyes. “Even your lackeys disagree with you. So—are you ready to admit you don’t have any clue what you’re doing yet?”

Charlie knew that this might be poking the bear, more literally than figuratively. She couldn’t care less. He had it coming, and it was her turn to rub dirt in his eyes over this whole debacle. She swore that she could even see Mike sweating in the dim emergency lighting of the backrooms.

“I have a plan; you and your stupid friends keep messing it up!” Michael sneered, stopping in his tracks to point an accusatory finger at her. This was all supposed to go the way he wanted, and yet those springlocked bastards had to show their faces again after Mike thought he'd done away with them for good...

Not only that, Henry somehow made an android for his supernaturally-inclined daughter before he'd gotten skewered, creating two annoyances for Michael to deal with now that the Puppet was back online.

No more, though. He was getting weary of the chase; his body wasn't what it used to be, after all.

Finally, he reached the stage lift, angrily slamming the button to call it back down. He remained in contemplative silence as it returned, only speaking when he walked up the small ramp to get on the lift as it ground to a halt.

“Freddy, listen to me,” he hissed, glaring at the bear. “Keep. Her. Down. Here. You got that? I don't care what it takes. If I find out she got away from you, I'm going to have to reconsider your position as my top friend...”

“You do not have to worry, Officer Michael,” Freddy responded quickly. There was no way Mike would actually follow through on that should he fail this task... was there? He was Freddy Fazbear—he was meant to be number one.

Without further prompting he pressed the button, sending Michael up top while he remained with Charlie down below.

Charlie scoffed; she wasn’t going to stay here for long. For now she was just being hugged too tightly for her liking by one of Michael’s walking murder machines. Charlie heard Freddy claim that he only wanted to keep Gregory safe, but she wasn’t so sure about that. It wouldn’t be a risk she would take otherwise.

There was a moment of silence as she was left with Freddy, as uncomfortable and tense as it was awkward. The bear seemed to take his job seriously. After all, in his mind, kid’s lives were at stake here. Freddy’s naturally good nature was being taken advantage of with whatever faulty program that Mike uploaded to the Glamrocks…

It gave Charlie an idea. Though she doubted it would work, she still had to try.

“…Friends don’t do that, you know,” Charlie put out there gently. She knew it was a long shot trying to convince Fazbear that he was being used. It took Charlie years to figure it out herself, and she wasn’t even brainwashed!

—To her knowledge, at least.

“...I do not know what you mean,” Freddy said tersely, keeping his grip tight and secure as he walked Charlie back to the middle of the repair room. “And I do not think I should be speaking with you, as you are a bad influence, like the others.”

(Oh, if only the poor bear knew how wrong he was.)

***

Up in the main atrium, the stage lift ground to a halt. Michael immediately hopped off, grimacing when he landed a bit too hard for his liking on the tiled floor. Looking around, he was relieved to spot an “ally” stalking nearby.

“Monty!” he called, summoning the gator over with a wave. Excellent—he managed to find the best muscle and the one that fought back the least. “Has anyone seen that kid yet?!”

“Heeeey, Mike!” the gator drawled, walking over with an apologetic shrug. “Nah, sorry—we've been lookin' but we think they're hidin' out somewhere...”

“Of course they are.” The guard huffed, starting off in a random direction. “You, come with me. I need backup now that Freddy's preoccupied.”

“Ooh, Fredbear's in trouble...,” Monty sang, then snickered as he followed along obediently.

Michael simply rolled his eyes. Despite his tendency to provide unnecessary commentary, at least the gator wasn't going to question his decisions.

***

In the world above, Gregory and his new-old friends were making do with the limited resources they had. Gregory had come to realize how little the original suits could do compared to the shiny Glamrocks. Their spring-loaded interiors made them tough enough to stand the test of time—but they stunk like sin and were slow to boot. Luckily, Gregory was used to being around gross things in his life by this point. Even right now, he was surrounded in a dimly lit kitchen dry-storage area with various spoiling foods knocked down in an attempt to barricade the door to get in. It wouldn’t stop the stronger animatronics, but it would give all of them time to prepare…

Things were looking grim, but with a lack of anywhere to go, Henry’s idea of storing themselves away inside the pantry for the time being gave Gregory an opportunity to relax. He felt on edge, but reminded himself that no matter what happened, at least it wouldn’t kill the boy. Unfortunately, there was a chance that he could turn into some emaciated, oxygen-deprived corpse before he hit fourteen.

As he ate chips and cold queso, Gregory sat across the floor from his current guardians. Both were tense and silent; if a few things were still the same as in his original world, Gregory could infer why they weren’t speaking to one another. He wondered how either could stand to be in the same room after the things he found out.

“I think Charlie’s fine right now.” Gregory broke the silence, trying his hand at optimism. “Michael’s probably too busy looking for me… She’s smart; I bet Charlie’s already figuring out how to find us.”

“For sure,” Henry said absently, as if he was just responding for the sake of giving Gregory an answer. Then he blinked, sitting up a bit straighter after if suddenly realizing where he was.

He couldn’t afford to get lost in his head right now. Gregory needed his protection, and while he did trust Will to try and keep the kid safe at this point, with the old Brit solely relying on supernatural power to move his suit it made him less than ideal in quick situations. Henry needed to keep his wits about him—and he also needed to make sure Gregory didn’t get pulled into their depressing aura.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s just fine,” he tried again, injecting a smile into his voice for good measure. He reached over to gently pat Gregory’s head, nodding to his snack. “How’s the food? I know it’s not The Ritz, but hopefully it’ll give you some energy for a bit.”

“It’s got… flavor,” Gregory answered with a lopsided grin, a stringy, coagulated strand of cheese stretching from the chip to his mouth. “…I don’t know if it’s good or bad. But it’s a flavor for sure.”

William was looking far-off to the door. At first, Gregory hated feeling bad for this man. Yet even if he had somewhat of a sordid past, the amount of times Will had already tried to protect him in this timeline made it very hard not to sympathize. It was impossible to forget the hell William had put him through in his own space-time, but it was quickly growing clear how all these small details added up to change his perception.

“Will?” Gregory called, earning his attention with a slow blink in his direction. “I was wondering if you guys went to the basement a lot…” Looking to Henry, he directed his question openly. “Have you ever seen more ghosts? You know… other than Charlie?”

William’s eyelids fell halfway, as if he was furrowing eyebrows that no longer were attached to the outer layer of the suit.

“Have you…?” William asked, almost accusingly if Gregory didn’t know better.

“I asked you both first.” Gregory was firm, willing to be stubborn if it meant getting the whole truth from them about the resources they had at their disposal. He wasn’t going to play these games with the rabbit.

“Uh…,” Henry wasn’t sure how to respond at first. God, how he wished he could save this kid from all the horrors this multi-layered Pizzaplex had to offer…

If only they’d gotten Gregory out, busted a damn wall open if they had to just to set him free. But it was far too late for that now. Maybe if he’d still been human, Henry would be less forthcoming with information. The less Gregory knew, the less traumatized he’d be at the end of all this. Now though, with those silver eyes staring sharp and inquisitive at him through the darkness, Henry realized the kid didn’t have that luxury.

“…There’s no point hiding anything, Will,” he murmured, fully resigned to delivering unfortunate information. So far, to Henry’s knowledge the only “ghosts” Gregory interacted with were himself, Will, and Charlie—none of them technically “children” when they died, though Charlie was pushing it.

The ones in the basement though… they were a different sort of entity altogether.

“To your first question: no, we don’t go to the basement a lot,” the bear went on, not quite able to meet Gregory’s gaze. “The reason being the answer to your second ask: unfortunately there are other ghosts down there. Three, technically, and… something else.” He glanced side-eyed at Will, not really sure what they should categorize Ennard as. Letting out a sigh, he added: “They’re… not nearly as friendly as us, though. In all honesty, we don’t feel very welcome down there, so we tend to stay away.”

Gregory's mouth twisted in a frown. None of the ghosts wanted to see them? It was a stark contrast to how excited the kids were to break the monotony of it all reuniting with their old friends in his original world.

“So you haven’t tried asking them for help?” Gregory asked, William’s eyes snapping to attention at the kid.

“No. And no, we won’t be leaving this pantry until we’re sure the coast is clear,” William replied, shutting down the idea fast.

Gregory wiped the crumbs from his hand and protested. “But we’re flailing out there, Will! And they have Charlie!”

Gregory and William stood now in a stand-off. The looks that they sent one another were haunting reflections of the past. It was like William was speaking to his own kid, the same challenging look he would give his kin over little disagreements, if not just a slight more measured when observing Gregory.

“Charlie will be fine. I—we can’t lose you, Gregory! I won’t do it again…” William sounded increasingly more upset. It wasn’t rage, as he never raised his voice, but his raspy cadence cracked with the strain in it. “Sit down and eat your crisps. We’re not asking poltergeists for help while you’re still hurt.”

Gregory crossed his arms and parked his butt on the hard floor.

“They’re chips…,” he grumbled; the tough love was new, especially coming from William Afton.

“Greg, have some compassion—Will’s British, he can’t help it,” Henry remarked, his tone surprisingly unbothered for such a tense conversation. He’d only been half-listening to the bickering, the gears in his mind turning as he mulled over their circumstances.

As usual, the kid had a point. Besides the fact it was driving him crazy to sit in this room doing nothing while his daughter was out dealing with who knows what, it would be a good idea to recruit others to their cause…

“…Look,” Henry began after a heavy silence, and he could feel the scathing look William’s emaciated face was giving him under that bunny mask. “I’m not saying it’s a good idea—and lord knows they’re not going to be happy about us bothering them, but… we can’t stay in this pantry forever. Sooner or later, one of those animatronics is going to bust down that door, and I’d much rather at least be trying to get ahead instead of being sitting ducks for Michael’s amusement.”

He looked to Gregory then, gaze serious as he rested a paw on his knee. “Greg, you’ve got to understand—these spirits are angry. It’s might not be easy trying to hold a civil conversation with them, let alone asking them for help… although at least they all hate Mike as much as the rest of us, so it’s possible. No matter what happens Will and I will protect you, but it might be rough down there—do you think you can handle that?”

Gregory’s long frown at being told “no” flipped upright at Henry’s joke. William had heard it all before—this was just a reused quip in Emily’s comedy repertoire. Though, he couldn’t lie that it may have made him smirk internally.

When Gregory processed just how pissed these ghosts might be, he remembered his first encounter with Cassidy. She was a spitfire who only managed to calm down a fraction once he got to know her.

“I can handle it; promise,” Gregory said with certainty. He capped up his jar of fake cheese and tossed the bag of chips aside.

William was compliant, though he really didn’t like this plan at all. If he had it his way, they would all be sitting barricaded in this room and pretending as if a manhunt for their blood wasn’t going on in the outside world. Yet here he was lumbering towards the makeshift wall he made and grumbling. “I think you’re both nuts.”

But then again, these little luck-based plans were getting them progress. He begun to move aside the barricade, tossing things out of the way and placing the wire frame shelving upright again to free their path.

“Took you this long to figure that out?” Henry quipped, standing to help William move things out of the way. This was good. Everyone was on the same page now, and they had a semblance of a plan. They were going to get through this.

Unbeknownst to the hopeful trio, the manhunt for Gregory was far closer than they wanted it to be. The sound-proof pantry may have kept them hidden, but it had the unintentional effect of blocking sound for them, too... and with Gregory not hooked into this Pizzaplex’s camera system, they had no way to tell that their presence had been noticed.

“Mike—” The gator stopped in his tracks, placing a hand on the guard’s shoulder and cocking his head as he spoke in a low whisper. He wasn’t on par with Roxanne, but even Monty’s advanced hearing could pick up on such noise from just around the corner. “—I think I hear somethin’… like heavy stuff movin’ around.”

William looked around, peering into the kitchen area with a cautious glance. He then held the door for his party to move through. Looking to Henry specifically, he told them: “Age before beauty; after you Hen,” in a playful manner. He may not be the best one to stay optimistic at times, but he wasn’t going to bring down Gregory’s excitement for his new plan.

Gregory had already been in front of Henry, closest to William. He rolled his eyes and told them with a teasing laugh: “You’re both old as hell!”

He came through the doorway and into the kitchen prep area… Only to freeze at the shadow peering at them from behind the door.

There were in fact two shadows, but the smaller one was near-impossible to see with Monty’s hulking frame backlit behind him. Only the dull, incandescent silver eyes gave any indication that their worst enemy was standing directly in their way.

“Hello again,” Michael remarked in a tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather.

“No, no, no!” Henry hissed, instinctively throwing Gregory behind him. Sandwiched between the two first generation springlock suits, the boy was surrounded by fuzzy-coated layers of pissed off steel and bone.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Michael mocked, taking a step forward. He paused when Henry slouched in a more defensive pose, raising his palms half-heartedly and speaking in a deadpan tone. “Oh no, someone’s angry…”

Then he spit out a laugh, lowering his hands to his hips. “If it’s any consolation, Charlie was still functional when I left her; I didn’t feel the need to ‘kill her’ again for no apparent reason—she’s already been through that enough.”

His glowing gaze flickered to William, evil and taunting. Michael knew he should just grab the kid and go before they got any ideas, but he couldn’t help rub salt in old wounds. Besides, it’s not like his father could hurt him from that death trap of a suit.

Gregory was beginning to hate the semi-decomposed smirk of Michael Afton, and just when his fear of Monty had finally ebbed, he was reminded of how formidable of an enemy the gator once was. Squished between his only remaining friends, Gregory watched as William glared hard at his son.

“You spiteful little shit…,” William growled, likely not making their situation any better. Sure, Michael was laughing now, but William had an edge he didn’t know about. “Did you come here just to be a smarmy jerk? Or are you going to give up?”

William always considered himself good at bluffing, even despite being dealt a bad hand and backed into the corner of the kitchen. Gregory peeked out behind Henry, grasping onto his grungy fur as William backed them further, putting space between them and the enemy.

“Mike—please just leave me alone…,” the boy begged.

“No can do, kid,” Michael replied with a shake of his head. “You’re just too good of an ally to pass up—so if you’re not going to join me willingly, we’ll just have do it the hard way.” He lifted his Fazwatch to his mouth. “Roxy, Chica—the child is by the first floor kitchen. Get here asap.”

“Michael!” Henry snapped, as if his harsh tone would actually do anything to sway the guard’s mission. As expected, Michael simply turned his head towards the old bear and scoffed.

“Come on, Henry—you think I’ll listen to you? I don’t even listen to my real dad. Monty?” Snapping his fingers, he pointed to the little face peering out from behind the springlock bear. “Get him.”

Henry growled, reaching an arm behind him protectively when the gator started forward.

“Hey, I don’t wanna hurt ya, buddy,” Monty said with a demented grin, claws outstretched as he stalked towards them. “Just gimme the kid and we can aaaaall forget this and play a game of golf together—how’s that sound?”

“Fuck off,” Henry snapped, totally at his wits end. This made Monty pause, but only for a second before moving again with a raucous laugh.

“My profanity filter’s disabled too, dumbass; you don’t scare me!” His gaze dropped to Gregory, red eyes peering through his dark shades. “Get over here, little guy…”

William knew he was in between a rock and a hard place now. He could push Monty off and choose to fight him, but that would give Michael the perfect opportunity to strike with his taser. If he attacked Michael in the hopes that Monty would pull back to help his “friend,” he risked leaving Henry and Gregory open for attack…

It was too late; the choice was being made for him. The once-passive bunny lurched forward to give Monty a hard push at his shoulders, aiming to knock him into Michael with the hopes of incapacitating him long enough for their escape. Paws collided with thick shoulder pads as William forced his limbs to move unaided by long-rusted mechanisms.

Gregory couldn’t bear to watch it all; he yelled and buried his face into the disgusting fur-suit holding him protectively. “NO! I don’t want to go!”

Michael was expecting something to snap the tension like a twig, so he was able to avoid Monty ramming into him when shoved back by William’s surprise attack. He had to jump out of the way though, which gave Henry just enough time to snatch Gregory up and book it. They rushed through the kitchens, out into the main atrium where they could head for—

There was a snarl to Henry’s left, and he only had a split-second to react before a lightning-fast grey and red blur slammed into his side. With a shout Henry practically threw Gregory into the air, not wanting to crush the poor kid as he went down heavily on his stomach.

Damn these old suits—they were so much more effort to maneuver than the sleek Glamrocks.

“N-No—no, Gregory, run!” Henry yelled, trying to shove off the wolf who was doing her best to rend his suit to pieces with her sharp claws.

But it was too late.

Before the kid could even think about abandoning his guardians, there was a fizzle of electricity and Gregory crashed onto the floor in a heap. Michael stood above him, a sneer on his face as the taser crackled in his hand.

“You fucking bastard!” Henry shrieked, painstakingly trying to right himself. Michael let out a short laugh and hooked the weapon back into his belt.

“I didn’t kill him, relax,” the zombie said with a roll of his eyes, bending down to pick Gregory up and roughly throw the kid over his shoulder. “He’s just taking a nap. No time to chat, though; we’ve got things to do. See you around!”

Giving the old bear a jaunty salute, Michael turned and sped off towards the Fazerblast office with his prize, leaving Henry on the floor trying vainly to fight off Roxy. He could hear Will still struggling with the huge gator inside the kitchen, and it sounded like Monty was winning. Henry could help, get them both free so they could find Gregory together…

But just when Henry thought he might be getting the upper hand, Chica appeared and forced him back into submission on the floor. With a deep, gut-wrenching drop in the pit of his stomach, Henry realized they might have lost yet another child to Michael Afton’s madness.

Gregory didn’t even know what happened. The pain from the taser left him blacking out as soon as the metal barbs shot into his skin. Now in the not so gentle caress of Michael’s shoulder, he slept with his startling silver eyes open at attention. It left him staring blankly after his friends—those who still fought to get him back.

“MICHAEL! Don’t do this!” William called, his fists locked with Monty’s as the gator set on bending his wrists back. He wasn’t going to be enough—William did his best to plant his feet as Gregory and his son vanished from sight.

“Gregory!” he called pitifully, glancing sidelong to see the state of Henry being shredded by Roxy’s claws. It was then when he saw his former best friend being dismantled before his eyes that William’s courage wavered. He was pushed onto his back, now parallel to Henry on the ground.

They might not make it out of this one unscathed…

***

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sunshinereddie · 2 years ago

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hi bestie! <33

long time no talk! I’ve been fully immersed in ST these past few months (still making art like crazy) but I just found this song again and the vision was so clear. so without further ado, another episode of heartie’s reddie song recommendations :,) <3

I can’t get the idea of the losers at prom together out of my head. I’m imagining that they all managed to say together until senior year.

I can see them so clearly, getting dressed up to the nines and posing for photos together.

they’re all going stag but the boys each take turns taking the classic prom pics with Bev, and then with each other.

Richie convinces them to be his “date” in all the pictures, even Mike who had just surpassed Richie in height by about two inches. he puts his head on Mike’s shoulder and wraps his arms around his waist with a stupidly adoring expression (and if Mike keeps it in his wallet for 22 years? that’s nobodies business but his own).

all the boys buy Bev a corsage because they didn’t communicate with each other and decide who was going to do it. she ends up wearing all of them anyway, half on one arm and half on the other.

despite his best efforts, Richie isn’t able to sneak any alcohol into the venue. it’s Bill who surprises them with a flask. his charm and good reputation made him the least likely perpetrator of smuggling alcohol and therefore avoided an inspection.

Bill and Ben spend so much time overthinking that they didn’t ask Bev to dance. Richie steals her away for half the night to do just that, albeit rather badly. lacing their fingers together, he jumps around the dance floor with her, spinning and dipping her an obscene amount of times. their cackling laughter sometimes heard over the noise that is top 40 pop songs.

when the music slows down and the lights dim, the rest of the boys take a seat while Bev dances with Stan. he’d called the first slow dance at the beginning of the night, insisting that Bev get a proper dance with someone who actually knew how.

Stan passes her off to Eddie next who spends half the time looking unsubtly at Richie. she gently teases him before sending him back to Richie with a big wet kiss on his cheek. the kiss mark she leaves behind makes his face so red you could hardly make it out.

Ben finally gets the courage to ask her to dance, which she accepts immediately. he’s red from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. she spins him and attempts to give him a small dip to loosen him up. it works, they spin and sway and laugh well into a second song.

they call Prom quits after the music picks back up for a second wave of 80s synth pop. they all pile into Mike’s truck, ties loose and hair ruined. they pass the flask around and try not to spill as Mike hits another pothole.

its cold in the bed, no walls to keep the wind from wrapping around their slender frames. they’d given Bev the only blanket, seeing as she was in only a dress. Eddie is very noticeably shivering but attempting to keep it hidden. Richie just laughs and drapes his very ill fitting tuxedo jacket over his shoulders, setting Eddie’s face alight.

they arrive at the cliff over the quarry, the sky is clear and crickets are chirping softly into the mild night air. Mike keeps the truck on and let’s the radio play. they make their way to the rocks near the edge and sit down, wrinkles and dirt be damned, prom was over anyhow.

looking out over the water, the night feels infinite. stars gleam in the sky and reflect on the quarry. here they are, in between two never ending galaxies. they’ll never be as young as they are now. they’ll never be as carefree as they are now. they might not ever be together like this again. but for tonight, anything is possible, and everything is okay.

the flask makes it’s way around the circle again, (aside from mike, who dubbed himself the designated driver) and then cigarettes. the ribbons of smoke dancing in the air and meeting each other. a peace settles over the group and conversations of nostalgia and memories spill from their mouths as freely as the smoke.

the opening chords of forever young start playing gently from the truck and a hush falls over them. they share bittersweet smiles and hum along. Ben asks Bev to dance again, more sure of himself this time. the blush that stains her cheeks make her freckles standout under the light of the moon. she accepts his hand and follows him over to the truck, a blinding smile gracing her features.

Eddie looks over at Richie, who’s smiling gently at the pair, and nudges his knee with his own. Richie turns to him with a smile and Eddie can hardly contain the feeling in his chest. his glasses are slightly askew and his hair is a mess but he looks so charming with his shirt sleeves pushed up haphazardly and tie tugged loose, top button undone.

the question is out of his mouth before he can think better of it, “do you want to dance?” the mortification is instantaneous. he flushes from head to toe and his eyes go as big as saucers. immediately he attempts to backtrack, “I uh- I mean- like just as a question like- I just-“

Richie, for his part, is not faring much better. he’s also red in the face, heat blooming in his cheeks before snaking it’s way from the base of his throat to his hairline. the smile he’d been wearing gave away to a shocked little O shape. he didn’t even have time to formulate a response before Stan called over to them, “yes, yes he does!”

both of their heads swivel in sync to stare at Stan. he looks back with a shit eating grin, arms crossed over his chest in satisfaction. Mike and Bill fail to hide their snickering behind their hands, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

if they’d been red before, it was nothing compared to the shade of scarlet they were now. Eddie turns slightly towards Richie, hoping to gauge his reaction. he finds himself nose to nose with Richie, eyes still blown wide and lips parted in surprise. they jump back slightly but end up giggling at their own ridiculousness.

Richie then stands, extending his hand to Eddie with a small smile. “I’d love to dance Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie finds himself returning the smile and accepting his hand. they make their way over to the truck, a few feet away from Bev and Ben who are too enamored with each other to spare them any more than a glance.

Eddie’s hesitance is clear when his hands stay suspended in the air, hovering around Richie’s waist. he can’t help the little huff of laughter that leaves his mouth as he redirects Eddie’s hands to his shoulders and his own to his waist. color still stains Eddie’s cheeks even as he starts to relax under Richie’s touch.

Richie takes a step towards Eddie, closing the distance them, leaning his head down to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie follows his lead and leans in close as well, his cheek pressed just above Richie’s collarbone, nose brushing against the hallow of his throat.

gently they begin to sway as the song bleeds into some other sappy love song. it’s cheesy, but between the sounds of crickets and the idle chatter of Bill, Stan, and Mike, everything is perfect.

college would scatter them across the country and career ambitions may keep them that way, but tonight they’re all together. tonight they’re just a group of best friends enjoying the night air. tonight they are limitless.

I hope you enjoyed my rambling thoughts because even I am surprised by the length of this. ;__;

I genuinely intended to write no more than like, the first three paragraphs of this and get out of here but the more I wrote the more I had to say :,)

anyway, I’ve missed you sunny! writing this down in your ask box is weirdly nostalgic :,) <3

- 🫀

*takes deep breath*

OK. WOW. heartie, this may be one of my most favourite things you’ve ever sent me. I. ADORE. THIS!!!!!

everything about this little fic, from the song inspo, to the prom setting (i am fucking RAVENOUS for anything losers club prom…. i mean if you couldnt already tell from puppy love ch1 dhajsbaka), the losers taking prom photos with each other, richie stealing bev away for the first dance (i can HEAR him teasing bill and ben with a “you snooze you loose!”) but stanley being the one to give her the first proper slow dance because he knows beverly deserves to “have a dance with someone who knows how” (SOBS AND SCREAMS AND CRIES), to them skipping out on the night early and just going to be with each other, where they’re all the most comfortable and where they all feel the most happy, to eddie being the one to ask richie to dance (and stan answering for richie!!! that was so adorable!!!) and them sharing a dance together, to that ending paragraph…… AUGH. TONIGHT THEY ARE LIMITESS. i think i’ll cry.

bestie you’ve really outdone yourself this time. this was absolutely lovely to read and i loved every word. im so happy to have you back in my inbox & sharing these stories with me <3

#sunshinereddie asks #🫀 anon #BESTIE IS BACK #<3 <3 <3 #reddie #reddie hc #reddie headcanon

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wetbloodworm · 2 years ago

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still in AIverse hell, now considering those kids in dnd au

the first question is whether i stick more to their canon for inspiration or if i lean more towards the generic human AU i've got. the problem with the latter is that there isn't much plot or really any kind of foundation there, it's just 'modern times and also zeph is human'. so my instinct is to go the canon route, so that i at least have a starting point for whatever kind of story is going on

OKAY so the next question that follows is what the fuck is zeph's deal here. warforged are the robot equivalents in dnd but that doesn't feel right, both in appearance and especially in the species features. i think reborn is actually a better fit for him? reborn origins can be all over the place and there are examples of reborn having manufactured bodies. i think that's a more fun space to play in here, zeph already has straight-up 'sentient robot' in his canon, why not complicate the situation here. throw in some mad science. so he's a conglomeration of organic and artificial parts plus some random soul that got snatched up for the experiment. maybe he's powered by a soul gem? potentially multiple soul gems? i can include crystals in his design that way fuck yeah. so yeah, science/magic experiment that's awakened without any memories and very quickly decides uh he wants no part in this actually? this feels kinda... real fucked up. so. uh. bye

zeph escaping the necromancer somehow, he meets up with andrew eventually b/c gotta get my boys together, but we’ll touch on that later. i think zeph does get occasional flashes of memories from his previous life (lives, if there's multiple gems) but largely he just feels hugely uncomfortable and tries to ignore them. he doesn't fully conceptualize those memories as HIS, more like... he views himself as a new person with an unfortunately stolen soul. not his fault, but that person had to die for him to be here now, and he doesn't like thinking about it.

idk what class he'd be? a caster of some kind makes sense to me. sorcerer? or potentially warlock? looked up subclasses and i think warlock w/ The Undead as his patron. he wasn’t the one that made the pact, the necromancer was during his creation. zeph isn’t like... 100% sure that his patron can’t just fucking un-awaken him for not doing as instructed so he lives in fear of his patron contacting him.

now andrew... i know immediately that he's a martial class. just his vibe. fighter, i think? fighter feels the most right out of everything, and i like the cavalier subclass. it mentions that cavalier are usually born among nobility and that feels right for him. for species... half-elf sounds right. and i just really like the idea of andrew as an adventurer! exploring the world, taking on jobs as they come, trying to help people! i’m deciding now that he’s traveling with sada (air genasi artificer), aimee (half-elf ranger), and gaige (elf wizard).

andrew’s situation is much simpler than zeph’s so i don’t have as much to say about him unfortunately, sorry my son. but he and zeph run into each other shortly after zeph has escaped. i don’t know exactly how they meet, but i know that zeph would feel safer in a group than alone, and also he hasn’t been awakened for very long with only spotty memories so there’s a lot of shit he needs help with, so he might’ve been seeking a group to travel with.

i’m losing interest in this post and i don’t want it sitting in my drafts forever so we’re ending it here. i’m probably going to make character sheets tbh

#AIverse tag #dnd au tag #andrew tag #zephyr tag

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ravenpureforever · 2 years ago

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So I know we all joke about Porchay living his best Wattpad life, myself included, but I think we all kind of ignore how Kim just never dissuaded him from that notion and how we find that genre dissonance between Porsche & Kim’s view (and often our audience view) of Chay and how he actually acts, and we’re all sleeping on the mini character arc he’s gotten over the course of the series.

Porsche and Kim don’t want Chay to get caught up in the mafia world, and they both seem to view him in the same lense: he’s innoncent, sweet, incorruptible.

But Chay has fucking balls man, and he’s a lot more resilient than people give him credit for. He also ignores red flags like he’s color blind. We don’t get to see much of him, but the glimpses we do get show there is so much more beneath the surface.

First:

Man grew up with Porsche & a dead beat Uncle, you telling me he didn’t see some shit growing up? No matter how well Porsche protected him, Chay is the one dressing his wounds when he comes back from fighting, Chay still hears the loan sharks coming for his Uncle, he’s growing up watching his older brother as really the only source of income for his household. And he can’t do anything about it. Watching episode 1, when Chay asks Porsche to let him get a job and help out, it feels like they’ve had this conversation before, it feels resigned, it feels like a final quiet plea of “we’ve talked about this before, but please, please, please just consider it.” But Porsche says no, I’m going to take care of it and I can’t help but think of the impact that has, of watching the person he loves most get beat down again and again and not being able to do anything about it. I feel like Chay probably grew up being the peacekeeper, the one trying to keep the waters calm. Its clear he knows he’s his brother’s world, that his brother has done so much to keep him sheltered and happy, and I can think of Porsche teaching Chay manners, teaching him ideals of being kind to others and Chay just internalizing it and deciding “ah yes, so this is my role in the family, this is how I can help my brother.” Chay probably felt a lot of pressure, no matter how unintentionally and how unconditionally Porsche loves him, to be a reason why his brother is doing all of this, he’s probably hyper aware of how he’s Porsche’s motivation, that everything his brother does is for him. That does things to your self-worth, to how you view yourself. I get the feeling hasn’t had any agency over his own life before, he’s always been the princess locked in the tower, aware of the war but not allowed to participate. His happily ever has been chosen and now he just has to see it through.

Then literally overnight, he wakes up and his Uncle has vanished, and his brother has left with just a fairly suspicious note about pursuing his dream that’ll completely be able to fully support Chay. His entire way of living has transformed, and now he’s completely alone. He went from princess locked in a tower as a war rages on to a Queen of a decimated kingdom. He can not grieve, he can only have faith and move forward.

This is also how I realized Chay has practically been designed to ignore all red flags and interpret them as something else.

Enter Kim, stage right. Enter Chay’s wattpad fantasy come to life, also stage right.

When Chay meets Kim, he is someone who has literally nothing to lose throwing himself out there. My boy literally just recites an encyclopedia knowledge of “Wik, sir, you are my hyper fixation” all in the hopes of getting that T-shirt. And it works! His idol signs his T-shirt, he gets to talk to his idol, he has been rewarded for putting himself out there!

So go big or go home right? He might as well try asking for a tutor when asked if there’s anything he wants. And he’s shot down. No big deal, he moves on and has merch thats going to be the envy of the Wik fandom.

But then his idol calls him, and says he’ll tutor him. Wik remembered him, remembered his request, and then proceeded to hunt down a way to get Chay’s phone number and call him personally in order to tell him he’s decided to he’s going to help him get into the his dream department that he himself is apart of.

Its easy to view Chay from Kim’s perspective, as an excitable fanboy with a crush, but we forget how Kim looks from Chay’s perspective. So lets look on how everything seems from Chay’s perspective.

Chay put himself out there, made a decision solely for himself and what he wants and now his idol wants to tutor him. He’s been actively rewarded twice now, by the same person, for asserting what he wants and trying to get it. He’s gotten his cake and is eating it too. He has a celebrity crush like most people get, only his celebrity crush is now making the effort to genuinely get to know him.

Wik tells Chay his name is Kim, he’s being open and vulnerable to Chay, and he’s trusting him with his identity. Kim asks about his brother, even though Chay didn’t tell him, red flag to any normal person citing he saw Chay’s screensaver and made an assumption. Kim is taking an interest in his life, he notices little details about him, and is asking to here more about the coolest person in the world, his brother and even noticed how much Chay loves Porsche that he wants Chay to write a song about it! He even trusts Chay enough to ask for his phone when Kim’s phone has died, even though that’ll mean there’s important numbers in Chay’s call history, and he trusts that Chay won’t take advantage of them!

And maybe Chay starts to fall a bit in love with Kim. Not Wik, but Kim, who’s a little bit insecure, a little bit awkward, but is making all this effort for Chay.

For Chay, it isn’t anything manipulative or suspicious, he’s becoming friends Kim, they’re sharing information about themselves, they’re bonding now, and he’s been shown that if he pushes, Kim will stay. Chay is all alone now, he has to take care of himself, but if he makes an effort and keeps putting himself out there, if he makes his wants known, Kim comes to him. Kim trusts him, and as long as Chay takes the initiative, he also makes the effort to bond with Chay.

Then Porsche comes back! Chay isn’t alone anymore, and they’re happy and safe and Porsche isn’t getting beat up! And then Porsche once again immediately leaves without a word and few days later you get the first call you’ve gotten from him since he left the first time and now he’s back at work and doesn’t know when he’ll be back again. He’s all alone, and his brother has seem to get a new life that once again Chay’s not allowed to be apart of.

But then Kim shows up at his house! And Chay immediately throws his brother under the bus in a desperate bid to keep Kim’s good opinion of him, once again, gotta admire the sheer balls and audacity of that move. Then Kim gifts him one of his guitars! Porsche do you understand how easily your brother could be taken advantage of do you? Sure he almost gets the heart attack of Kim discovering his shrine, but what teenager doesn’t have posters on the wall of his favorite singer? Maybe it’s weird that he wants Chay to go get the food for them both, but he could have an important phone call to make, he could be nervous going out in public where people could recognize him! Then when he gets back Kim asks him about his love life! Kim ruffles his hair! Kim tells him to write a love song!

Kim is checking off all the boxes of my crush likes me back.

So when Kim ghosts him a little, Chay makes the obvious conclusion. Show up at his house and sing him the love song he wrote! He’s been shown time, and time again that if he reaches out to Kim, Kim will eventually grab his hand. Kim has shown to be awkward and a little of unsure of himself around Chay, but relaxes when Chay takes the initiative. So Chay does what’s always worked. With literally no fear or anxiety whatsoever.

And with episode 13, we see how close they were getting. We see how they went out to places together, romantically or platonically, and they took pictures together! They were friends, they were close, they had a level of trust and bonding and vulnerability for Chay to take photos with Kim and leave them around his house for Kim to find!

So Chay once again has nothing left to lose, and shoots his final shot and confesses to Kim. And Kim kisses him! They hug! Kim may or may not have come home with him that night but at some point in they’re relationship post confession, they fall asleep cuddling on the couch.

And Chay and Porsche are very similar. They fall in love quickly, they become very devoted and loyal to that love, and they are honest about it. Chay and Porsche are both the first ones to say I love you, but while Porsche doesn’t ask for a reply, Chay does. Because Kim has shown time and time again that Chay needs to take the initiative. So he asks Kim: I love you, do you love me?

But he stops at that and lets Kim take his time. Because that’s the song and dance their courtship has been taking, Chay flirts, Chay pushes forward and then Kim comes to meet him the rest of the way.

Chay is living in a Wattpad fantasy: he meets his idol crush, his idol crush becomes fascinated with him, he sees the real human behind his idol crush’s persona and falls in love with the awkward, sweet person underneath, he confesses his love and the feeling is mutual! And all of this seems to be fate, like this perfect love story and the happy ending he actually wants. He’s practically gotten into his dream department with the boy of his dreams who loves him back.

He’s confirming it is all real, and letting Kim know that it’s all real on his end.

And then he gets fucking kidnapped. And then he gets indisputable proof that his brother has been lying to him this entire time, and he was kidnapped because of that secret life his brother was lying about it.

The ultimatum may seem harsh, but it makes sense when you see it from Chay’s perspective. He probably feels essentially abandoned by his brother for the past two months, and he’s understandably pissed about everything thats happened in the last 48 hours or so. His brother can be part of his life and they can go back to the way things were, but Chay can’t be a part of his life if his brother is in the mafia, and its true. Porsche has spent all this time telling Chay he wants him to get into a good school and get a good job and be surrounded by good people with a good social life. You can’t have that in the mafia, and Chay knows that. So from Chay’s perspective, his brother has basically just been a complete hypocrite to everything his brother taught him.

And while Porsche has been shown the type of person to be willing to throw away his morals and beliefs when it comes to the people he loves, Chay isn’t. His entire life has been surrounded on those ideals of being a good, kind person who lives a good life. And he’s understandably terrified of the thought of losing his brother and truly being on his own. He’s basically lost his only emotional support system for two months, and if his brother dies, he loses him for good.

So Chay says him or me, because in his mind either way he could lose his brother, but this is Chay making his own decision, this is Chay fighting back and reminding Porsche that see you hurt makes me hurt too. This ultimatum reminds Porsche that his actions have conquenses on Chay too, and it shows how Chay has grown up in his absence. Chay in episode one was willing to just bow his head and listen to what his brother, but Chay in episode 10 is willing to speak out, he’s no longer willing to be simply passive in his brother’s plans for him.

In the end, he and Porsche communicate, and we get a taste of how Chay is, like Porsche, willing to throw away his ideals because he loves someone. But now he’s been dragged into a completely unfamiliar world, he’s truly been into a different kingdom where he doesn’t have any of the power or agency he’s gotten used to having in Porsche’s absence.

And then its revealed the love of his life is part of the mafia, and he’s just gotta sit there and pretend like nothings wrong.

Side note: while it’s absolutely hilarious that absolutely nobody learned about the KimChay romance, it also makes a lot of sense. Rule number one of Wattpad romance: You NEVER tell your overprotective brother your in love or dating or got dumped. You NEVER let your big brother know about your love life. Rule number two of Wattpad romance: When dating a celebrity, you NEVER leave a hint that any fans could pick up on. You ALWAYS need to keep the relationship a secret for as long as humanly possible. Chay thinks he knows what genre he’s in, and he’s being smart about it.

So Chay goes to confront him. Like doesn’t even hesitate, just shows up like bitch you better explain yourself. Because that’s what he does, only this time he does it out of anger, not out of love.

And Kim tells him that his entire reality was a lie. When Chay breaks down crying, it’s not just because Kim dumped him, though that had to hurt, its because that means their entire friendship, all the kindness and effort Kim showed him, all the time they spent together, all the moments Chay thought were sweet, thought they were bonding and falling mutually in love was a complete and utter lie. He’s just been made a fool, and his entire life has been completely transformed and he has no control over any of it.

So he spirals and self destructs. Him ditching the interview may seem dumb and like he’s throwing everything Porsche worked for away, but think about it. Everything about this interview is going to reminder of Kim and how he betrayed Chay’s love and trust. This interview is a reminder of how his brother threw away his own life for Chay to have a future their parents would be proud of, despite his protests. This interview is an embodiment of Chay’s own lack of control in his own life, it has become a symbol of his pain.

Everything in Chay’s life has fallen apart and now he has to pick up the pieces and find his place in the new world he’s in.

So he tries to take back that lost control and ditches the interview. He does the stereotypical new haircut new me era. He goes out drinking with friends. Chay can’t talk to Porsche about any of this, he can’t be honest with friends about any of this. He doesn’t have any real support system in his life right now, and he’s falling apart. For the past two months he’s been in charge of his life for the first time, only for it to be yanked away and everything he knows to disappear. He wants to get that control back, but he has no clue how, and he has no one to help him. So he makes some dumbass decisions, but its not just because of Kim, it’s because desperately grappling for a sense of agency in a world that keeps stripping him of it.

And then Kim comes back into his life, and in Chay’s perspective, tries to take away his agency again and toy with his emotions. “You said you don’t care about me, but here you are caring about me,” and it makes him angry. So in episode 13, he tries to cut Kim off, he ignores his calls and blocks his number to assert his control of their relationship.

And then his agency and control is once again taken when Porsche wakes him up and (presumably) drops him off at Yok’s and (probably) doesn’t tell about anything that happens.

His Wattpad dream life romance has fallen apart, he’s had to leave his old life completely behind, and now he’s left in the ashes trying to figure put who he is and where he stands in this situation, trying to be his own person without anyone there to help him.

Conclusion: I think Chay is someone who strives to be kind and polite, and like Porsche wants to see the best in people, but he’s also incredibly brave and put into the position where he’s really making his own decisions for the first time in his life. He’s frustrated, he’s unsure, he’s making mistakes and fumbling around, but he’s a young adult finally trying to take control of his life after everything has been ripped out underneath him, and I think that side of him could be explored to.

I think Chay is the type of person who’s sweet and respectful, but when push comes to shove, he’s shown to be a no nonsense kind of person who isn’t afraid to backdown. He’ll listen, he’ll comprise, but Chay has a lot more of a spine and a no fear attitude than people give him credit for, but right now he’s desperately trying to assert his agency in a narrative that keeps taking it from him, and its causing him to self destruct.

I’m genuinely excited to see where his arc from passive princess in tower to living a self-insert life to currently self destructive extensional crisis ends up. We’ve only gotten a few scenes with him, but they’ve shown so much of a character arc that I feel people are sleeping on.

#kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche #kimchay #vegaspete #sorry I just want people to stop sleeping on Chay #kinnporsche meta #kinnporsche episode 13 #kinnporsche episode 12 #they we’re supposed to be the sweet ones admist the mafia drama #they’re all unhinged disasters #i’m obsessed #porsche my beloved #kinnporsche analysis #kimchay analysis #I’ve got a lot of feelings and thoughts about Chay okay #he’s got so much going on and such an interesting characterization #or maybe im just overthinking #but still

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years ago

Text

the type you bring home to mom ~ eddie kaspbrak;it chapter two

word count: 2361

request?: no

description: in which he finally brings his girlfriend home to his over protective mother, and it goes exactly as he thought it would

pairing: teen!eddie kasprak x female!reader

warnings: swearing, overbearing mother, derogatory name calling (i guess?), basically eddie’s mom just sucking

masterlist (one, two)

note: (y/n/p) = your parents’ names

I played with the hem of my dress as I walked up to the Kaspbrak household. I was regretting my choice in wardrobe, but it was too late to change now. I knew nothing would feel right anyways, I had already changed three times before I came over.

For the first time in our year long relationship, I was meeting Eddie’s mother. We had somehow managed to keep our relationship a secret for so long that I never felt like I had to meet her, and Eddie wasn’t exactly pushing for it either. As much as he loved his mom, he also knew she was manipulative and overbearing, and he often told me how he was afraid of his mom scaring me off because of these facts.

When the news eventually got out and travelled quickly through the small town of Derry, as gossip usually does, it got to Ms. Kaspbrak in no time. She immediately demanded to meet me, and Eddie set up a dinner at his house for the occasion.

Before I could even knock on the door, it swung open to reveal my tall boyfriend smiling down at me. Any tension I had melted away as I looked up at him, into those beautiful eyes that could calm me down whenever they were on me. He took my face in his hands and pulled me to kiss him. It was such a normal action that, at first, I leaned into it happily, until I realized the circumstances of my visit and quickly pushed him away.

“She’s not here,” he said, as if reading my worried thoughts. “She’s gone out to get some stuff for dinner.”

He stepped aside to let me step into the house. It wasn’t unfamiliar territory; Eddie and I had had many rendezvous there during the rare moments when his mom wasn’t home, but it felt wrong to be there on this occasion. I just wanted it to end already, and to go home or go for a long drive with Eddie.

“Come, sit,” he said, leading me to his living room. We sat close to one another on the couch, so close that we were just barley touching. Feeling his arm brush against mine sent sparks through me.

“How worried should I be?” I asked him, trying to remain as light as possible.

He sighed and shuffled in his seat. “I wish I could tell you not at all, but...”

He trailed off so I finished his sentence for him, “But it’s your mom.”

Eddie nodded. “But it’s my mom.”

One of his arms was around my waist. I hadn’t realized that the skirt of my dress had hiked up a little until the hand around my waist started to play with the hem, his fingertips brushing against my ass. His other hand touched my leg, starting lightly on my knee and then slowly travelling up my thigh till it stopped on my inner thigh. I shivered, wanting him to go further.

Most people who knew him would never believe that Eddie Kaspbrak, the hypochondriac, fast talking, former sheltered mama’s boy, would be absolutely mind blowing in bed, and constantly handsy whenever we were alone. I hadn’t even believed it until we got together, but man, Eddie knew how to make me feel absolutely amazing.

He leaned forward to kiss my neck, his fingers tracing circles in my inner thigh. I was shivering with anticipation and whimpers were escaping my lips. I could feel Eddie’s amused smirk against my neck as he placed another kiss there and lifted his head to look at me. He kissed my lips and his hand finally made its way further up my skirt.

Our moment was interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming. I practically jumped to the other side of the couch, touching my neck in hopes that he hadn’t accidentally left hickies there.

“You’re good,” he said, understanding what I had been doing.

The front door opened and I suddenly felt paralyzed. I wasn’t sure if I should stand up or stay sat down, if I should move even further away from Eddie or stay exactly where I was. In the end, I stayed frozen like a deer in headlights as his mom rounded the corner, arms full of grocery bags.

“Oh,” she said when her eyes landed on me. “Is this...her?”

There was a slight leer to the way she said “her”, which made me want to squirm under her intense gaze.

“Mom,” Eddie said, a partial warning tone in his voice, “this is (Y/N), my girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Kaspbrak,” I said. “Do you, um, need any help with - ”

“No,” she cut me off. “I have it. You’re early.”

“I told her this is when to get here,” Eddie defended. “You wouldn’t tell me exactly when to invite her over.”

“Well, this is hardly dinner time,” his mother huffed. “It’ll take me a while to get dinner ready.”

“I can help,” I offered again.

“No,” she said, sharply, which told me that was the end of the matter.

I shrunk down in my spot on the couch.

“Mom,” Eddie snapped again.

She glared at me before turning to her son, trying to soften her expression for him. “I’ll let you know when the food is ready. For now...stay here.”

When she disappeared into the kitchen, Eddie immediately moved to sit next to me and took my hand in his.

“I’m okay,” I assured him. “I’ll get through it. It’s just dinner then we’re done, right?”

He nodded, but I could see the worry on his face still.

A while later, Ms. Kaspbrak called to tell us dinner was ready. She had made sure to place everything so that Eddie and I were sat at the heads of the table, far apart from one another, while she was sat between us. Eddie and I shared a look before sitting in our designated spots.

Dinner started with awkward silence besides our cutlery against the plates. I tried to keep my attention on my plate, but every so often I’d glance up at the Kaspbraks to see Eddie nervously glancing between me and his mother, and his mom just glaring daggers at me. The nervousness I was feeling took away my appetite, but I felt like I had to eat everything to make a good impression, if that was even possible.

“So,” Ms. Kaspbrak said, drawing our attention to her, “(Y/N). Your parents are (Y/P/N), right?”

She already knew the answer to this question. I had grown up in Derry, where everyone knew everyone. There was a reason she was asking, and I had a feeling I already knew what that reason was.

“They are, yeah,” I responded.

“And they’re divorced, aren’t they?”

“Mom!” Eddie groaned.

“It’s just a question, Eddie,” his mom said.

“It’s okay,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t mind talking about it. That’s kind of old news anyways. They divorced when I was 10, dad moved to the next town over and mom got full custody of me.”

“That doesn’t seem like a very stable upbringing,” Ms. Kaspbrak commented. “I’m sure it’s taken such a toll on you, you must’ve decided to rebel somehow.”

Eddie put his face in his hands, officially admitting defeat on trying to stop his mother.

“Actually it wasn’t anything like that,” I said. “Mom and dad stayed pretty civil. There wasn’t any big fight or anything, just an agreement that they’re better off not being married. When dad moved he made sure to stay in constant contact, and comes to visit all the time or I’d go to visit him. Mom always made sure I had a roof over my head and food on the table. They both love me unconditionally, even if they’re not together.”

Ms. Kaspbrak sat back in her seat, a sour look on her face. “Well...regardless, it’s just not right to be raised by a single mother.”

Feeling a bit brave, I raised an eyebrow at her. “Eddie was raised by a single mother.”

“That’s different. My husband died, he didn’t decide to abandon me and Eddie.”

“My dad didn’t abandon us, he’s still very much a part of our lives.”

She ignored me and continued to eat. I looked across the table at Eddie to see him avoiding all eye contact with either of us as he pushed his food around on his plate. As if feeling my gaze, he looked up at me. I gave him a small smile to try and indicate that I wasn’t upset with him. I wanted him to know everything was going to be okay, even if I didn’t fully believe it myself.

“How many boys have you had sex with, (Y/N)?”

The question caught me off guard and I nearly choked on the food I had just put in my mouth.

“Jesus Christ, mom!” Eddie snapped.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vein, Edward,” his mother chastised him.

“You can’t just ask something like that, mom, that’s none of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business. I need to make sure my son isn’t dating a slut. I remember you were friends with Beverly March before she moved away, and trust me, I heard all sorts of stories about her. Anyone who would hang around with her must be somewhat similar.”

The mention of the untrue bullshit that used to be spread about Bev made the anger within me bubble over. I was seeing red as I looked up at Ms. Kaspbrak, and I was ready to pounce.

“Actually, your son took my virginity, and I took his,” I told her. “And we have sex quite a lot, sometimes upstairs in his bedroom when you’re not home. Although, for someone who says he was a virgin I don’t know how much I believe it. Eddie has done things that I don’t even think the most experienced of people could do.”

If he was upset with me for saying all of this, Eddie’s face didn’t show it. He was sipping on his water, trying to hide the smug smile that broke out across his face.

Ms. Kaspbrak’s face turned blood red before she rose from the table. “Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Gladly,” I said, abandoning my dinner to quickly leave the shitty situation.

“And don’t you dare come anywhere near my son again, or else I will have the cops on you!” she threatened.

I stopped and turned back to face her. “For what? For dating your son? For showing him that there’s someone who actually cares about him without manipulating him? For finally cutting the cord that you’ve had wrapped around his neck since he was born? Ms. Kaspbrak, I understand that you’re afraid to lose your son the way you lost your husband, but being a manipulative bitch who forced him to think he had illnesses he didn’t have for years and insulting his girlfriend in front of him is not the way to keep him around. Eddie is 18 years old, he’s an adult. He can do whatever he wants, which includes dating whoever he wants and leaving this hell hole that you have the audacity to call a home. The day that you finally accept that just might be the day that Eddie finally considers you to be an actual mother.”

And with that, I decided not to overstay my welcome and left.

I was only a few feet away from Eddie’s house when I heard him calling after me. I slowed my pace just enough that he could catch up with me, but didn’t completely stop. I wanted to put as much distance between myself and the Kaspbrak house as I could.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed as he fell in step next to me.

“For what?” Eddie asked. “I should be the one apologizing to you.”

“You warned me on how she would be, and I still let her get to me,” I said. “I probably made having to live there a whole lot harder.”

“It was hard to begin with, (Y/N). Nothing could make it harder than what it was,” he told me. “What you said, it was all true. Mom needed to hear that. Doesn’t mean she liked hearing it, or that she’ll actually accept it, but she needed to hear it none the less.”

“I guess I could’ve said it nicer,” I said. “Or at least not included details of our sex life.”

Eddie awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah, could’ve done without mom knowing I’m a sex god.”

I gave him a look and playfully nudged him. “I never said you were a sex god.”

“Eddie has done things that I don’t even think the most experienced of people could do I believe were your exact words.”

“I only said that to make her more upset.”

“So you’re saying I’m bad at sex?”

I pushed him again. “Eddie!”

He laughed and put an arm around my waist. “I appreciate the compliment either way. And I hope you know how much I love you.”

I smiled up at him and leaned into his touch. “I love you, too.”

We walked in silence for a while and, before I knew it, we were at my house. We stopped and turned to face each other.

“Want to stay over tonight?” I asked. “I figure going home isn’t exactly the best option right now.”

“It’s not,” he agreed. “Will your mom be okay with it?”

“Of course she will, she loves you. She’ll probably even cover for you if your mom calls.”

“I take it back, I don’t love you. I love your mom.”

“And I take back my offer. Go sleep on the streets.”

I took off for my front door with Eddie hot on my trail. I tried to open it and lock him out before he caught up to me, but of course his long legs gave him an advantage. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me away from the door, both of our laughs ringing out through the otherwise quiet neighborhood.

#eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak imagine #eddie kaspbrak x reader #james ransone #james ransone imagine #james ransone x reader #teen!eddie kaspbrak #it chapter two #imagine #one shot #requests #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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postalenha · 3 years ago

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on and off % jake

pairing: playboybf!jake x reader genre: angst, fluff, lovers to exes, exes to lovers idek word count: 1.89k words requested: yes / prompt 14, “we called it off again last night.” / 18, “it’s been you all along.” / 19, “for the first time, i had something to lose.” synopsis: immaturity isn't needed in a relationship, but that seems to be jake's and your's specialty. warnings: curse words, mentions of drinking, throwing up, su!cide, toxic relationship, making out

"i thought you're going with jake today?" sunghoon asked as you hop into his car.

you rolled your eyes at the thought of riding in the same vehicle as the boy, "no, we called it off again last night."

"again?!" the boy exclaimed, "y/n, that's probably the nth time you guys called it off." he sighed in disbelief, "that's not how relationships work." he commented.

judgingly looking at his way, "yeah? like you know any better?"

"shut up." he started the engine, "this isn't about my love life."

"whatever." you blurt out, "i guess being bad at handling relationship runs in our blood." you jokingly said, as your cousin laugh.

he tilt his head smiling, "damn, of all things that can be passed down, that's what we got."

"well, at least we got good looks. that works as a payoff." he added. you agreed at him with a nod, "anyway." you changed the subject.

"i'm planning on ending it with jake." you stated. he looked at you, "no shit, you sure?" he assured, "to be honest, whatever makes you happy." he added, looking like he wanted to say something but he decided not to.

"don't apologize." you led before he could even say sorry for insisting that you should date his best friend, sim jaeyun.

"i'm not- okay whatever." he almost want to deny the urge but he saw you looking at him with a teasing face, "i just feel a little responsible for all the stress this relationship have caused you." he scratch the back of his head, as you slap his arm.

"shut up, dating him was my decision. you don't have to blame yourself for all the bad decisions i made for myself. i'm an adult now." you told him.

parking his car he nod his head, "okay. just remember i'm here if things are bad, okay?"

"okay." you said, before going out of his car. walking at the corridor of your building, trying to see if jake arrived earlier than you today.

and he certainly did. there he is on his designated seat beside the window, silently watching as the wilted leaves fall down from the tree.

the clock ticks time faster than you expected and your professor came in, not able to call out for jake's name to even talk to him.

sitting down to a chair, you told yourself that you'll talk to him later. and here you are, in front of jake sim at the rooftop of your university's main building.

it might be your lucky day for no one else is here but the two of you. this place is usually cramped with so many people and miraculously today isn't one of those days.

this may be one of the many signs sent from above that this relationship should end as it wasn't right from the beginning.

your blood boils as your cousin sunghoon pushes you into the table of his friend group, "come on! you wouldn't lose anything! he just want to talk to you." he shouts.

"then tell him i don't want to!" you shout back a little annoyed. the last thing you want to do tonight is talk to the famous serial dater, jake sim. "for i know, he just wants the best out of me!"

"come on! jake's not like that!" he defended his friend. to be honest, sunghoon is the last person you should be ranting to. for he is just like his friend, they play with girl's hearts for fun.

you rolled your eyes as you reach the table of ego. the decision of naming that wasn't yours, but the other students. they called this the table of ego because everyone in here got some solid ego. heeseung, jay, sunghoon, jake. all of them.

"y/n! you actually came!" heeseung cheered as soon as he saw you, he scooted a little bit on his right to leave some space between him and jake, "come sit!"

sitting beside him was probably one of the decisions you will forever regret in your life. the memory of that night was a blur. you barely recall anything that happened then.

the only thing that you remember was when jake was reaching for a kiss, you accidentally threw up on him before passing out.

the next day, he told you to be his girlfriend to compensate with the mess you gave his brand new shirt. you said yes just so he could shut up, telling yourself you'll break up with him after a day or two.

two months then passed and you are just breaking everything now. well, it's better late than never. you just didn't expect that he would actually be a good boyfriend.

he's mostly good, not until everything gets complicated even with nothing. you fight over the smallest thing like, not being able to respond to each other's text to someone getting jealous.

it wasn't the best relationship you've been in but it was a good experience. you learned so much and now, it's time to move on.

"what is it that you wanted to say?" jake impatiently snapped you back into reality. you swallowed a good amount of saliva before saying, "let's break up."

it was better to say it forward than beating around the bush. with this, more time and energy will be saved. because even if you give him an explanation he probably won't listen.

he slowly blinked and sighed, looking away he said "okay. if that's what you want." see. he wouldn't even bother asking you why.

well, if you get things easy. they would also go easily, "okay. it was fun meeting you." you head out, leaving him there.

he most probably would not be so upset that he might think of jumping off the building, but you still prayed that he wont.

and he didn't. you can guarantee that as you see that three weeks later jake sim is with a woman walking the same isle as you are. the chances of you seeing him here at this huge mall was small, but never impossible.

you grabbed your friend's hand trying to hide from the sight of the man, "what are you doing-"

"shut up, jake is here." you told here looking at their way, walking into a clothing store. you hurriedly go and sit at a restaurant far from them and ordered food when your friend speak up.

"y/n, what's the point of hiding now when you guys already broke up?" she patheticly looked at you who's trying to hide from a menu list.

putting the menu list down on the table, you crossed your arms, "i am not hiding from him. i simply don't want to involve myself with anything that has to do with him."

"yeah, like seeing him in a shopping mall involves you with him." she said with full sarcasm. "you have no idea how pathetic that sounded."

not listening to anything she said, you started eating your pasta. almost choking when you saw a familliar figure walk in the restaurant.

trying your best to lean down and not get noticed you hear your friend call, "jake!" you kick her feet under the table as you see jake wave back and walks closer.

"what the fuck did you just do?" you whispered at her, she just smiles like an idiot as jake reach your table.

"hello, jia." he greeted your friend, "hi, y'n."

flashing a fake smile, you said "hi." satisfied with how annoyed you are, jia announced "you guys can join us! we got two extra seats here."

"we don't want to intrude-" you cut him off, "yes, there are a lot of vacant tables. they sure can find their own, right?"

serving a glass of wine, a waiter says "oh, we're fully booked, ma'am. so if you want to eat here, you have to wait for another hour or so." he said pouring some on your glass. "if you'll excuse me."

"it would be rude if we don't invite you right? so join!" your friend cheered as the girl jake's with sit next to you.

taking a sip of your wine whenever jake helps the girl cut her steak, you became unaware of how drunk you are. "so, when did you meet jake?" you asked the girl.

to be frank, she was quiet the whole time. just sitting there, not saying a thing but a "thanks." whenever jake helps her with anything.

"you can't answer that? well can you tell me if you are able to use your hands to their purpose? like cutting off a steak or puring your own glass of wine?"

"y/n-" your friend tried to stop you. but you didn't listen. you just continued to blabber nonsense until jake grabbed your wrist to the bathroom.

shaking your hand off his grip you screamed at him asking, "why did you bring me here?!"

"y/n why are you being so rude?" he calmly asked you.

you sarcastically laughed, "i'm being rude? who's more rude when you're out here eating at the same table as your ex-girlfriend and your current girlfriend?"

"current girlfriend- y/n that's my cousin!" he tried to calm himself by breathing slowly, pushing the side of his mouth using his tounge "do you really think i could replace you that fast?"

the sudden question made you feel like someone cut off your tounge. because you mostly have answer for everything but this. his question caught you off guard.

"when you broke up with me, i never asked why. i knew you were tired and i don't want to exhaust you more." you hear his voice shake as he speak. "i was also tired and we both needed a break."

you looked straight at his eyes that are sparkling from moist done by the tears that he have been trying so hard to hold back, "but as time pass by, i felt more and more empty. there is a big mark of you in my heart that ever since you left, no one has ever filled."

"nobody could ever fit in, but you." cupping your face he also wipe your tears away. "i never felt that way before. it's like, for the first time, i had something to lose."

"jake, i-" it was as if you forgot how to compose a word. you never knew he felt the same way you did when you broke up with him.

maybe sunghoon was more of your cousin than he is jake's friend. because if jake only knew how many times you told sunghoon that you miss him, he would've came back faster than this.

he smiled pulling you into a hug, "it's fine if you don't feel the same way anymore. i understand that. but i just want you to know that i am not the douchebag you think i am."

pulling away from the hug, you see his eyes were bloodshot "sorry, the last thing i want to do is make you cry-" you pulled him into a kiss not letting another word out of his mouth.

running out of breath, you seperated his lips from yours. you widely smiled at him, "it’s been you all along."

kissing outside a three star restaurant's restroom isn't as ideal as other comeback stories, but you wouldn't ask for anything else. as long as you have jake in your arms, your heart is content.

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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin. He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #winter solider smut #definitely not canon #i refuse to believe steve went back in time for some 1940s kitty kat and left his best friend behind #tony and nat are alive bc they are the only truly valuable characters #sebastian stan #also youre the daughter of agent hill #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #winter soldier #wEiNeR sOlDiEr

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Limp Noodle ~ S.H.

A/n: I have never once been good at making choices so I’ll be doing both OOF! This request is dirt old but whatever. I’m actually writing requests now look at me go!

Request: “...prompt 20 or 21 Steve Harrington x clumsy male reader” by anon

#20 (here): “I can’t do this without you”

#21: “Guess who broke their nose! Me. It’s me. I broke my nose.”

Word Count: 2000+

MASTERLIST

“Are you SURE that this is a good idea?” The words came from Y/n as Steve parked the car, waving through the windshield window at Jonatan, Nancy, Robin and a new friend, Bianca. They’d all decided on a triple date and like idiots they’d let Steve, Bianca, and Nancy decide so they were now all headed on a hike. Robin was the least athletic of all of them and hated exercise of any kind. Jonathan was the one in the group who hated being outside in the sun and much preferred being inside cuddled on the could other swaddled in bed. Y/n... well Y/n was the single most clumsy person you’ve ever met.

Now, take whatever image that popped in your head when I said that and then make it ten times worse. Then take THAT mental image and multiply by it by ten AGAIN. Y/n was worse. He was absolutely sure he was going to thrip and fall over the side of some steep hill and fully die. He would be lucky to make it out of this trip without a stick going through his eye. Y/n and the outdoors didn’t mix. They never had. He could barely walk, let alone when it was uphill and outside and humid and hard to breathe and everyone was so beautiful and distracting.

Steve didn’t agree with that analysis.

“This is a great idea actually,” Steve decided with complete confidence. “Don’t worry about it okay? You’ll be fine.”

“Incorrect,” Y/n Aries immediately. “We started dating because I tripped seven times and you caught me every single one. I tripped seven times in three days Steve - and that was just the, what, one hour a day you’re with me? In THREE HOURS I TRIPPED SEVEN TIMES!” He was whisper yelling, getting rather heated. “I’m going to knock my head into a tree and bleed out.”

Steve laughed. He reached over, taking his boyfriend’s hands. “Do you trust me?”

Y/n’s shoulders sagged. “That is a cheap trick, Harrington.”

In response Steve only raised his eyebrows. When Y/n refused to answer, Steve sighed. “Y/n. Do you trust me?”

Closing his eyes a second, Y/n held in a sigh. When he opened them again, he managed a small smile. “Yeah. I trust you.” Steve went to get out of the car and Y/n caught his wrist. “Just promise you’re going to stay with me okay? I can’t do this without you. I’m serious.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Come on Drama King.” They both got out and made their way over to the other four.

“Hey guys!” Nancy greeted warmly. She had calmed a lot since Y/n had first met her. Darkened. But she was still pleasant enough, and Y/n tolerated her for Steve. He didn’t know why they were all friends after Nancy’s brutal ripping up Steve’s heart but... he expected it was that trauma bonding things that Steve and Robin refused to ever talk about with Y/n in the room.

“Hey bestie.” Robin winked at Y/n and he felt himself relax. Around her he always felt more comfortable. She got him on a much deeper level than Steve did. She had actually been the one to set them up after failure after failure of Steve’s attempts on girls who came to the ice cream shop they met at originally. It had gone up in flames recently, but they’d snagged a job at a movie store so they still worked together. Y/n was pretty sure neither of them would have it any other way, even if they sometimes pretended to hate each other.

“Hey loser,” Y/n joked back. Robin shoved him and he laughed, accidentally ramming into Jonathan as his feet almost came out underneath him. “Sorry,” Y/n mumbled.

Robin scoffed in amusement. “I always forget you have two backward feet.” This was something she said often, in reference to the popular statement of ‘two left feet’. One day Robin had proclaimed that Y/n was something worse than two left feet, and then being backward had kicked off as an inside joke.

“I’d you have that problem standing still, how do you think you’re going to do on a hike?” It seemed Bianca was trying to get in on the joking, but it hit a hard cord with Y/n.

He wasn’t in the mood to joke. “What can I say? Great day to die.” He put on the fakest smile ever. “Come on everyone!” Then he began to surge ahead, onto the trail, and the others scrambled to catch up.

It didn’t tale long for Nancy and Bianca to hit the head of the trail. Steve dutifully stayed by Y/n, but he watched the girls head with a sort of forlorness. Because Y/n was so slow and Jonathan and Robin lagged even behind him, the two girls in front were racing up and down the steep sides of the path they were on, jumping over logs and hopping up on stumps to make the path harder. They were laughing hard and having a great time. Y/n knew that Steve desperately wanted to join them.

What kind of a boyfriend would Y/n be to stop him? “Go on,” Y/n sighed, nudging Steve forward encouragingly.

Steve looked at Y/n with an expression that tried far too hard at innocence to succeed. It was so obvious he was full of crap that Y/n was rolling his eyes before the brunette even spoke. “What? What do you mean? I’m having a great time with my boyfriend which was the point of this whole thing. Have I bored you already?”

“No, but I’ve bored you. Go and do parkour with the bad ass chicks up there. Go on.” Steve hesitated, but when Y/n shot him a look, he finally did speed ahead to catch up and join in the unnecessary shenanigans that gave Y/n extreme anxiety just imagining himself doing. He sighed watching Nancy and Steve. He knew that things were WAY over between them, but Y/n found a little jealousy in the way they worked together so fluidly. They were perfect for each other - even as friends. She just kept up with him and challenged him in a way that Y/n never could, and Steve thrived.

Slowing down in his moment of annoyance, Robin and Jonathan caught up to him. “Welcome to the world of those who have to sit back and wonder why they’re not still dating,” Jonathan sighed. His voice was as laced with bitterness as Y/n’s thoughts were.

“They’re so complimentary,” Y/n complained.

“You could argue that you guys are the same,” Robin pointed out. “You both hate doing anything outside or away from home. You both love reading and photography. I mean Y/n’s incredible view of the world allows him to be a great writer, but it also connects you two. Writing and photography aren’t far from each other and you prod that every day. Nancy can’t slow down enough to appreciate things like Jonathan does, and we all know Steve is no reader.” She chuckled. “And we’ll never know how awkward and snappy got buff and pretty.”

Jonathan and Y/n smiled at that. “Imagine another world where Nancy and Steve stayed together. Then maybe you and me would have-“ suddenly he lost his words as he tripped, and Jonathan reached out to catch him. The two boys busted up laughing. “That’s the second I have to say both sorry and thank you for your reflexes Mr. Byers.”

“Ah anytime. That’s what friends do. Share interests and talk about alternative world where they’re dating and catch each other when they almost die.”

That made Y/n laugh harder.

Suddenly there was a very unpleasant thump and a scream. The three in the back snapped their attention to the three ahead and saw Nancy and Bianca freeze and look back at Steve, who had landed on the ground. His hands had risen to cover his face, and he slowly turned on his side, curling in on himself. It seemed like he’d misstepped at some point and tripped and fallen.

Perhaps Y/n shouldn’t have been the one they worried about on this trip...

When they finally got Steve to the hospital, it was a mess. There had been blood everywhere, and Y/n’s weirdly good driving had saved the day in a pinch once again. They’d gotten there quickly and in one piece without getting pulled over.

Only an hour later they were given news. Steve came out with the skin around his nose already bruised and puffy. “Guess Who broke their nose,” he mocked in a song songey voice.

“Me?” Y/n joked.

“Me!” Steve agreed, pointing at himself. “It’s me. I broke my nose.” He slung an arm over Y/n’s shoulders and the other four covered their mouths to hide laughs. People wouldn’t be forgiving in public if it got out that the two men were dating, so they were trying to be lowkey.

The Doctor came over behind Steve. “He’ll be fine. I’ve given him direction son how to ice it and even given him some pain killers to help with the next few hours. But it is just a broken nose, so nothing too severe.”

“Thanks,” Y/n told the Doctor. They left then, everyone heading home. Y/n designated himself in charge of caring for Steve, and called his parents to let them know that Steve ‘got tired’ after the hike and totally knocked out. They didn’t mind, liking that Steve was actually spending time with other kids again, so it went without too much problem.

As Y/n was tucking Steve into bed, Steve caught his hand to still him. “I love you.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. They hadn’t said that yet but... well, if hypotheticals with Jonathan had taught anything today, it was that Y/n was glad he was in this version of things, even if it was a little more complicated this way. So he meant it when he replied, “I love you too Stevie.”

Steve glared. “Not Jonathan?”

“Jon-“ Y/n’s deep confusion cleared as he realized what had been happening right when Steve had tripped. Jonathan and Y/n had been close. Laughing. Talking. Touching. “Oh my god Harrington did you break your nose because you were being a jealous idiot?”

“Maybe,” Steve grumbled, looking away.

Y/n laughed, gently tugging on his chin so their eyes met again. “Please sweetheart, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Me and my two backward feet are going to plague you for the rest of our lives.”

Steve’s eyes got very soft. “Do you really mean that?”

Getting sincere, Y/n leaned down and kissed Steve’s forehead. “Stephen Harrington, I’ve never meant anything more. I know we can’t get married or anything, or even date publicly, but... I don’t care. And maybe that’s some really forward thinking and we haven’t been dating that long, but I fell... a LOT of times in my life. It only made sense that the first time someone ever caught me, it was you. And it made me realize that I was gifted with my two backward feet so that one day I’d fall for you.”

Steve groaned. “That was painfully cheesy.”

“Okay, okay,” Y/n dismissed, rolling his eyes. The sweet moment was completely ruined.

“No seriously I would break my nose again before hearing that-“

Y/n reached over, turning the light off before climbing into bed with Steve. “Shut up Harrington, or I WILL break your nose again.”

Steve laughed before pulling Y/n close so they could fall asleep curled up with each other. “My cheesy, dumb, clumsy boy,” Steve mused quietly.

That made Y/n scoff. “If either of ya is the dumb in this relationship it’s YOU, Harrington.”

“Shut up,” Steve whispered. It was quiet a while before he finally followed up with, “I’d like that future with you too.”

To hide his smile, Y/n mumbled, “Good night Stevie.”

After a second, Steve replied, “Good night, Y/n.” And for now, that was the end of it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x male reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #bisexual steve harrington #bi steve harrington

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jxngh · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! It's me again with another request. 😅

What about a Hoseok that everyone underestimate and think that just because he's so adorable, a true gentleman and even cheesy that they don't think he can be good at bed.

So, some girls make a bet (idk let's pretend their work colleagues or they're in college, what suits you better) what they don't know is, that Hoseok somehow, actually finds out about this bet, but he's not bother at all, on the contrary, he's beyond thrilled since he's been wanted to fuck hard OC, so this is his chance to prove her how wrong she actually is.

The player will be end up being played.

A good boy with a little a very dirty secret behind doors. What do you think? 👀

hii!! this has been on my drafts for weeks and just finished it! hope you'll enjoy ✨ thank you so much for 600+ followers btw 🥺

if you enjoy my content please consider buying me a coffee 🥺🤍

your sweet boss is made a party for the ones who freshly started work with you. you didn't expect anything less from a gentleman as him. he was always disciplined but never not supportive and adorable. sometimes even cheesy.

you and your work colleagues were in the party. and after some food and drinks - and not seeing him around - they basically started gossipping. you were trying to be friends with the new colleagues but you all were in the same conversation so you kinda had to be in it.

"soo... what do you guys think about your new boss?" asked one of your close colleagues. she loved gossipping and stuff like that, was so fun all the time.

"he's super sweet...i don't know if it's because we're new to be honest." said the new girl. and the new boy added "i feel like he's a gentleman but...we don't know how is he in bed right?" he made a funny voice. you all laughed.

"bet he's not good at bed, seems too soft." your fun friend said while she's taking another bite from the food. and she turned to you before asking. "what do you think, __?"

"i don't know..." you looked at her, then the others. "he seems vanilla but i can't really say if he's bad."

they talked about it a little then the conversation changed.

you were still thinking about it tho. the thing you didn't know was that he heard your talk while he's getting another drink from a table closer to you guys.

after a week from the party, to check your work, he came to your room. at least that was what you thought. you thought that you did something wrong and he was here to show you how to fix it. as he did multiple times before.

but no, here he was showing you the plans of the new design of the office from the computer, too close to your face while he's behind the chair you're sitting at. you couldn't focus on the screen because of him.

and you couldn't decide if it's smell that is making your mind dizzy or the tone of his voice. there was definitely something different today.

"are you even listening __?" he asked and that was when you really started listening. your attention was on his side profile which is looking like he's a painting.

"oh uhm yes. sorry, i got distracted." you confessed.

that put a grin to his face. he came closer to you, leaving a deep breath. you felt small tingles on your neck.

"you're one of my best workers and you always listen carefully what i say, __. is something wrong?" he asked you, eyes traveling to your lips for a millisecond. the gap between you two was so small, you could feel his capturing smell making your mind dumb.

"n-nothing." you stuttered, trying too hard to look at him in the eyes. your mind was screaming at you that you should get back but you just stayed still.

he took a deep breath and tilted his head.

"is this vanilla?"

wha- what was he talking about? why did he just highlight the word? did he hear you talking? shit. you were going to be fired if he did. plus you didn't want him to hear those words, you just said it. ugh.

your eyes widened but you tried to act like he's talking about something else.

"what is?" you looked up at him, his breathtaking features. the grey suit was covering his body so well. damn, you thought.

he looked at you and talked before slightly smirking.

"the colour, __. what else could it be?"

you looked down and gulped before looking at him again.

"i d-don't know sir." you felt your cheeks getting hotter, shit. what was happening to you? you weren't exactly a shy type of woman but the sudden hint made you flustered.

he held the armrests of your chair and turned you to face him, then he gently nipped your chin and made you look up.

"why are you getting red? tell me what's on your mind, baby." he said staying still and leaving only few centimeters between your faces.

him calling you that sent a flutter to your heart. what happened to the sweetest boss you had? and more importantly, why did you want him so bad with just a word?

"thought you were thinking that i'm vanilla, but here you are getting even more red with a 'baby'..."

fuck. he knew. he knew what you've said. you wanted to speak and tell him that he misunderstood or something, at least try to fix this someway. but you couldn't, not when you were that close. you opened your mouth but no words came out. and your brain focused on his breath brushing your lips, he was looking amazing.

"i can prove you wrong baby. bet you'll only think and talk about me." he said before brushing his lips to yours for a second. you closed your eyes. then he watched your face with lust filled gaze of his.

your hand found his neck and pulled him close to a kiss. it was intense, wasn't so slow but not fast either. you felt his hands coming down and holding your waist, then down and grabbing your ass while he sucked your bottom lip. after that he lifted you and made you sat on your table.

he started to give your ass hard squeezes while groaning into your mouth.

"mmmh " he said before spreading your legs and rolling his hips against yours.

he was so hard and you were sure your panties were wet after that kiss. and now he was sucking marks to your neck to collarbone. you loved the feeling of getting marked by him. the way he touched you were mind-numbing.

"mmph, please." you moaned, not able to opening your eyes from the feeling.

he smirked and held your waist tightly. then rolled his hips to yours, it was harder this time.

"name it baby. please what?" he asked leaving a peck to the sweet spot under your ear. it sent tingles to your body, you held his head and pulled him closer. now you were face to face, his eyes were half lidded and full with lust, looking deeply into your ones.

"please sir, prove me wrong." you said breathily.

he smiled for a second, then kissed your lips hungrily. then with a low moan he sent his tongue to meet yours. and yeah,he was so good at it. it was like his tongue is dancing on yours. you couldn't help but whimper.

you felt his hands getting under your dress, playing with the thin waistband while he leaves low grunts to your mouth. the vibration was making you feel some type of way. your whimpers were telling the same thing.

your hands found his belt and unbuckled it without breaking the intense kiss you've having with him. he slid your panties aside and started to rub his hand to your wetness.

"fuck." he breathed havily. "all of this is for me? fuck baby, you make me wanna ruin you."

you smiled and palmed his erection, getting low curses from him. you could feel him twitching.

"i'm ready sir." you said, looking at his hungry expression. your hands were resting on the waistband of his underwear. you slowly pulled it down.

he was long and pretty. and definitely ready to fuck. the gray suit he wore was looking so rich, and the fact that he still had it on was a turn on to you.

he didn't waste anymore time and pushed himself to you in one thrust. your moans and his grunts mixed. he was holding your waist and sucking your neck.

"ah sir, move. please."after checking your face he continued his movement slowly. you could feel every inch of him, he was so deep and filling you so well.

he started to move faster, making you jolt with every push of his hips. you needed to get support from your hands, holding the table tightly.

"such a pretty baby, spreading herself for me on her table, crying under me." he said pulling himself back almost fully. "still thinking i'm vanilla?" he said and pushed himself harder, finding the spot easily. and now he was fucking you rough.

"n-no sir, ohh yes." you replied and felt your high coming, by the way his dick twitches inside of you after every moan of yours you could tell he's close too.

he kept his pace, made you lose control of your moans while he leaves low grunts to your neck, whispers dirty stuff to your ear.

"come as i say pretty." he said and gave deep thrusts, getting faster and going slower and deeper again. your pussy started to clench like crazy. if you weren't being held by him you'd probably fall because how hard he fucks.

"come." he said and you both came, you were a moaning mess.

he pulled himself out and fixed your dress after fixing his suit, getting ready to leave.

"guess i proved it all wrong, huh?" he said, watching your not so out of bliss face. it was a strong high.

"i can't believe i thought that sir." you said looking at his lips involuntarily. you were still between your desk and him. he moved closer and kissed you slowly. then his hands found the marks he left on your skin.

"everybody will know who left these marks on you baby. you can cover it up... or you can keep it and i can take you a proper date tonight. cause this wasn't just sex for me. what'd you say?"

his words made your heart flutter. you couldn't help but smile.

"of course."

taglist : @nglmrk - @allora1233 - @sizzlebangtan4 - @youmyjhope - @raiiisstuff - @alexmin606 - @bookfrog242

.·´ tell me your thoughts about it in here please / can be general talk too i missed y'all 🥺 + ask to be in my taglist!

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cc-mr-vip · 3 years ago

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Season 3 Initial Thoughts

- ℂ𝔸𝕄ℙ ℂℝ𝔼𝕋𝔸ℂ𝔼𝕆𝕌𝕊 𝕊ℙ𝕆𝕀𝕃𝔼ℝ𝕊 𝔸ℍ𝔼𝔸𝔻-

Holy shit, this Season was a doozy. I absolutely loved this season. It was a lot more intense than both Season 1 and 2, but had the realism from Season 1 that I loved so much.

Also I was fucking wrong, boys. Well not completely. I did make the prediction that they’ve been on the island for at least 2 months, because for some reason that was a reasonable number in my head. A nice believable number for the kids to have survived and did all they did, but six months!? Like half a year!? They would have been 1.5 years away from getting blown up from the volcano in JW2. Bruh...

The Scorpius Rex probably had the most terrifying design I had ever seen for a hybrid dinosaur. It felt way more threatening than both the Indominus and Indoraptor, probably because of it’s very odd hodgepodge of a design. I also love the twist of it being extremely unstable and causing other dinosaurs to lash out after being poisoned. Having this thing chase around the kids was definitely terrifying to say the least. Also wasn’t expecting Sammy to get spiked by the poison too (and turn an odd shade of green, sorta narmy lmao). I knew she wasn’t going to die, but I wasn’t expecting a nice squick shot of the quills in her abdomen that was a fun treat.

Also finally! Kenji, my boy, finally has some character backstory and development! I will probably do a more deeper analysis on Kenji’s drawing of his family, but is already kinda confirmed what kind of person his father is. He didn’t care enough about his son to want to put pictures of him on the wall, only himself. It makes sense why Kenji was so self absorbed as well. I found it pretty heartbreaking that Kenji risked his life to try rescue his father’s “precious” art statue. I’m not sure if he tried to rescue it because he was scared of his father scolding him or if he just wanted to bring it back for his father for a pat on the back. Either way, it’s just brings up sad implications all around.

Honestly Kenji had some absolutely great development this season, in my opinion, way more so than the others had and way more interesting too. I think the episode that really marked a change in Kenji was Episode 5 (Eye of the Storm), when Kenji took it upon himself to be in charge of packing. For most of the episode, he was acting like typical Kenji, but he began to take his job way more seriously when it came to the safety of his friends. When Darius took after Ben, he properly took charge of the group (nice contrast to Season 1 where he was more nonchalant about it and tried to pass off responsibility). It was around this point that we didn’t see Kenji acting all high and haughty anymore, he was fully devoted to saving his friends.

I definitely wasn’t expecting Kenji to run off with the laptop to make the trade and save Brooklynn. The boy tried to fight a man with a loaded gun to save his friend, how foolish and brave of him to try do so. It was amazing to see Kenji, who spent most of the series cowering behind others, fully devoting himself to protecting Brooklynn in the finale (leading her to safety and shielding her with his own body). I do think that Kenji has some issues regarding losing friends; I think that the Camp Fam really is the first friends he’s ever gotten, which is why losing them hurt him so much (Sammy’s faux death and Brooklynn getting kidnapped).

The way at the end when Kenji refused to forgive and accept the idea that they were going to risk Brooklynn’s safety over the laptop...it was a very mature way to handle that situation. Pragmatically, Kenji was absolutely right, they shouldn’t be risking their lives over a stinkin’ laptop. It’s not they’re responsibility, they’re just kids. But his friends were good people and Kenji played along, but decided to take matters into his own hands. His friends are important to him and he’s going to do anything to keep them safe.

From haughty jock who only seemed to care about himself to a team member willing to risk everything to keep everyone safe, Kenji really has grown so much as a character.

All in all, I’m surprised the kids actually made it off the island this time. My friends and I were placing bets on whether or not they would make it off the island this season. Everyone had voted that they wouldn’t, but they did...hopefully? They got a stowaway so I’m wondering how they’re going to deal with that. Go back to the island? Keep going? Clearly it all isn’t over because Kenji’s character arc isn’t quite solved yet. I wonder how many more season CC will have. I do enjoy the series, but there’s only so much they can keep right?

This initial thoughts ended up more of a Kenji reaction post, so I’ll dedicate the end here to some other thoughts I had overall:

Yasmina and Sammy’s friend-(or maybe more)-ship was really cute and wholesome. I found Yasmina’s chumminess afterwards Hello-Zuko-Here levels of second hand embarrassment xD (Are they a maybe-couple? When Brooklynn mentioned crushes that Sammy might’ve had she mentioned Yaz lmao).

Thank god, Bumpy didn’t die. She has her own family now...for at least 1.5 more years until the volcano explodes...

Ben, you stupid child, of course you want to get off the island. I would have knocked you out and dragged you on the boat myself.

It was nice of the pilot and mercenary to board the kids upon finding out they were children. Even though they died / ended up splitting up the kids, the meant well.

I can’t believe Dr. Wu was in this season. He isn’t as much as a bad guy as I thought. He still left the kids, but at least he didn’t...kill them? Set the bar too low maybe?

And that’s all for now. This being a chock-full Kenji season, I’ll probably be doing some analysis or posts on him, but thought I’d make a reaction post with all my initial thoughts for now!

#jurassic world #jurassic park #jurassic world camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous #jwcc #Darius Bowman #kenji kon #Brooklynn #sammy gutierrez #yasmina fadoula #ben pincus #dr wu #season 3 #spoilers #bumpy the ankylosaurus #scorpio rex

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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TO LOVE AND BELOVED - Part Five (Harry Styles)

a/n: ahh idk why but writing this part took me forever! but its finally here and i can’t wait to see your thoughts on it! i was debating for a long time if part 5 should be the last one, but then i decided to add another part, bc there are two more things i want to include in the story and i couldn’t squeeze them into this part, it’s already the longest so far, so we have one more part left of the story! also, a little warning that part 6 might take a little longer than the prev parts bc im a little behind with my schedule but it’ll try my best!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce, sexual content

word count: 12k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

You’ve been feeling like a teenager sneaking around her parents these past weeks. Only that you’re an adult and the parent you are trying to keep your secret romance hidden from is a four year old little girl.

Your birthday was a turning point in your evolving relationship with Harry. Like a wall has been brought down and he finally started reaching out to you. It feels like with every passing day you’re getting closer to him and you can see the progress he’s been making thanks to his therapy sessions and how much he is trying to make a change himself as well.

Stolen kisses and tiny touches have been a usual in your every days whenever Izzy was out of sight for the shortest second. You’ve realized that Harry is an affectionate person, he likes to keep you close and he never fails to bring passion into the tiniest kisses.

With Izzy around 24/7 it’s been hard to find time when it’s just the two of you, but you’ve been waking up early in the morning just to spend that twenty minutes alone with Harry while he drinks his coffee. Sometimes you just sit in silence, trying to wake up for the day ahead of you but sometimes he talks your ears off about anything and everything. In the evening, when Izzy is already sleeping the two of you usually wind off together in the living room or watch a movie in the entertainment room, just enjoying some alone time. It’s not much, but more than nothing and you’ve grown very fond of these little moments with him.

Nothing more has happened than just kissing. Despite the progress Harry has made so far you can tell he still has quite a few conflicts buried deep inside him and you definitely don’t want to rush him into anything he is not ready for. Some cuddling on the couch or short but passionate make out sessions in a corner while Izzy is not paying attention, you haven’t gone further than this.

Now it’s the last day before Izzy leaves to Harry’s mum for the week. He is dropping her off Sunday afternoon and it will leave the two of you alone for seven full days. Well, Harry still has to work during the day, but from the moment he’ll get home, it’s just gonna be you and him.

You had to make a few phone calls so you’ve been locked in your room for a while now. When you come down you find your favorite father-daughter duo on the couch, some kind of Barbie movie playing on the TV, but Izzy is busy with something else. She’s got her water based flooring pens scattered around her, Harry’s tattooed arm laying across her lap as she is coloring the patterns as if it was her favorite coloring book. Before they could notice you, you run back to your room and grab your polaroid camera and returning you snap a picture of the adorable scene. The shutter of the camera makes Harry’s head snap in your way, a smile tugging on his lips.

“Hey,” he softly greets you. You put the camera and the photo aside to the cupboard near you before joining them on the couch.

“Hi Y/N! Look!” Izzy beams happily, pointing at Harry’s ship tattoo that is now fully colored with yellows, pinks and blues.

“It looks better this way,” you smirk down at her before your eyes meet with Harry’s over her head, smiling at you softly.

Making yourself comfortable next to them, you watch Izzy work on more of his tattoos and you find it such a heartwarming scene, you want to remember it forever. Harry Styles, such an influential, successful and serious businessman, sitting on the couch in his loungewear while his daughter is using his tattooed skin as her personal coloring book. He really is a wonderful human being and the best dad to his daughter.

“Y/N, do you have any tattoos?” Izzy asks, turning to you with curious eyes.

“I actually do,” you answer and you see Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“You really do?” he asks, his head resting on the back of the couch, turned to face you.

“Yeah,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

“Where?” Izzy asks perking up at the new information.

“Um, it’s right here,” you tell her pointing at the side of your hips, covered with your sweatpants.

“Can I color them?” she asks innocently, but Harry is quick to react.

“Izzy, you’re being a little too nosy,” he warns her as always, and she looks at you with a pouty look.

“It’s fine. Um, yeah, you can color it,” you nod.

Sliding lower on the couch you roll down the waistband of your pants until the tattoo is revealed on the side. You catch Harry’s eyes wander over the skin you are now showing and you can see a slight blush tinting his cheeks. He hasn’t seen this part of your body uncovered yet, he hasn’t even seen you in a bathing suit so far so it’s quite the new thing.

(reference for the tattoo)

The tattoo on your side is a simple yet meaningful one, dedicated to the special bond you and Trevor share. It’s a minimalistic yet beautiful piece of two koi fishes swimming in a circle, one is left blank as while the other one is black so their formation resembles the yin-yang symbol. You got it when you turned twenty, when Trevor was just in middle school, but he promised you he would get the same design when he turns eighteen that will happen in the fall.

“That looks beautiful,” Harry breathes out with a shy smile and you notice how he doesn’t ask about the meaning behind it. Not because he is not curious but because he is insanely respectful and he doesn’t want to ask something that’s too personal.

“Thanks,” you smile at him as Izzy grabs her pens and starts coloring the blank fish.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully, Harry is clearly trying to spend as much time with Izzy as possible before her week with his mother, but you also notice that he seems to be keeping something away from you, like he is trying to bring up something but he is not entirely sure how to start the conversation.

It’s not until Izzy is put to bed that he joins you on the couch, turning to you with a serious expression on his handsome face.

“What’s up?” you ask with a soft chuckle.

“I was thinking…”

“I could see that,” you tease him, giving his knee a playful squeeze. “I’m listening.”

“Actually there are two things I wanted to talk to you about. I’m not sure which one to ask first.” He purses his lips before sighing and moving his eyes to meet your curious gaze. “So we’re gonna be alone for the next week.”

“Mhm.”

“And I thought that… if you want to, but we don’t have to, it was just an idea—so feel free to—“

“Harry,” you cut his stuttering off, moving closer with a reassuring smile. You caress the side of his face and you notice how you lean into your touch, breathing out through his nose. “Don’t be nervous, alright? Just tell me what’s been on your mind.”

“Would you go out on a date with me?” he then asks and it’s the purest thing you’ve ever seen and heard from him. The hopeful but still nervous look in his eyes makes him appear like a little boy who is asking out his first crush in middle school, afraid of rejection, when that’s the last thing he has to think about when it comes to you, but it’s still cute.

“I would love to,” you smile at him and leaning closer you peck his lips softly. “And what’s the other thing you wanted to ask?”

“Well, I’m driving Izzy over to my mum’s early in the morning and I’m staying for lunch and… if you don’t feel like it’s too much, you could… maybe come with us.”

“You want me to meet your mum?” you ask surprised.

“Well, she wants to meet you as well, but I want you to meet her, yes,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. “Gemma has told her about you and my sister likes to be nosy so she might have added a little spice into the story about us when nothing was really going on.”

“Oh my, what does she think?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Nothing bad, don’t worry,” he assures you quickly. “She just made it seem like we are… dating and all,” he adds with a nervous smile. “But I told her that it’s… I mean that we are not there… yet.”

“Oh, okay. Well, if you really want me there, I would love to go with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Would love to meet your mum.”

“I was afraid you’d find it a little early for this,” he admits truthfully and you can see that rationality in his thought. “We haven’t really… discussed what we are and I didn’t want to put the pressure on you.”

“Well, do you want to talk about us?” you ask softly, giving him the chance to decline if he feels like the conversation might be a little too much for him.

“I do, but I’m not sure… what to say,” he hums, knitting his eyebrows together. Last time I had this talk I was in my early twenties and I don’t even know how to start,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“Okay, then let’s just agree on some things,” you suggest and he eyes you curiously. “Neither of us is seeing anyone else, right?”

“Is that even a question in my situation?” he snorts, making a joke out of his issues clearly and you’re happy he is able to take it so lighthearted.

“Just clearing the air,” you chuckle. “So we are…exclusive.”

“Seems like it,” he nods.

“And you just asked me out on a date,” you point another detail out.

“I did. And you said yes,” he smiles, an excited shine in his eyes glimmering through his green irises.

“Yeah. So we can say we are dating? Seeing each other?” Harry chews on the terms you offered, tastes them before nodding slowly.

“I guess we could say that.”

“Okay. So… that’s what we are,” you smile at him, giving his knee another squeeze. This time, his hand finds yours and he runs his thumb across your knuckles.

“I think… I’m okay with that,” he breathes out and though it’s seemingly such an insignificant thing, you know how huge steps he has just taken forward.

“I liked the blue one better. With the white sweater,” Heather hums, watching you through the video call. You have your phone propped up on your dresser as you’re trying to figure out what to wear today.

Though you seemed completely unbothered last night when Harry invited you along with them, but now you can feel the slight panic. It’s not even because you and Harry are a thing now, you’d feel this way if you met his mother just as Izzy’s nanny. Grandmothers can be so protective over their grandchildren, you’ve met with quite a few problematic ones while you were working at the daycare and you just want Anne to like you, to trust you with Izzy as much as Harry does.

“Okay, blue it is then,” you sigh, pulling the yellow sundress off of yourself before putting the blue one back with a white sweater.

“So you guys are now official?” Heather grins at you through the screen. “Meeting his mother and all that?”

“Define being official,” you chuckle softly.

“Like, boyfriend-girlfriend?”

“Not yet. But we agreed to be exclusively dating.”

“I still can’t fucking believe that you’re scoring the hottest dad I’ve ever seen. You lucky bitch,” she sighs, sipping on her morning coffee.

“Me neither,” you scoff.

“I’m pretty sure if the mothers who got you fired knew, they would explode. Basically every woman was in love with the man and now you are the lucky woman actually getting him.”

“I guess this is karma for what they did,” you chuckle shrugging. “Alright, I gotta go, because we are leaving soon, but I’ll talk to you soon.”

“You better be! I want a detailed essay about how it went!” she grins, kissing the camera.

“Alright, bye!” you smile before ending the call.

When you get downstairs, Harry and Izzy are already down there, Harry is zipping up her bag while she is dancing around humming to herself.

“Baby, your backpack is still in your room. Can you please get it?” Harry asks her, Izzy nods and runs towards you, stopping in front of you.

“Hi Y/N! I like your dress!” she beams at you.

“Hi! Well thank you!” you smile at her before she runs past you up the stairs. “Hey,” you greet Harry and his eyes snap up to you, his pink lips stretching into a warm smile as he leans closer and kisses your cheek sweetly.

“Hi. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. So, any tips for meeting your mum for the first time?” you ask, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. Harry reaches out and takes your hands between his so he stops the motion.

“You don’t need tips. I know my mum will like you, she is already so excited to meet you, so don’t worry.”

“If you say so,” you breathe out.

Harry puts Izzy’s stuff in the Rover and soon buckles her into her seat before the three of you hit the road. Harry has a whole playlist for Izzy’s favorite songs so you obviously listen to that along with Izzy’s performance of all the songs, filled with misheard lyrics, but that’s what makes it even better. The car ride is about three hours, which is not that horrible. You need just one bathroom break sometime in the middle and Izzy sleeps through the last hour in the car, allowing the two of you to finally listen to music that’s not from a kids’ show.

“Do you have a song request?” you smile over at him, scrolling through his phone since it’s the one connected to the car, but he has given you permission to play whatever you like.

“Not really.”

“You don’t have songs you like to listen to in the car?”

“Not specifically. Do you?”

“Oh, I have a whole playlist for songs to blast in the car,” you chuckle.

“Really? And what songs are on it?”

“Well, I can just show you.”

You search up your user on Spotify and find the playlist in talk before putting it on shuffle. As the first song starts to play, you peek over at him to see his reaction and you spot the smirk on his lips.

“Black Eyed Peas?” he asks glancing at you shortly.

“Yeah, you don’t like them?” you smirk at him.

“I do, I just didn’t think you listen to them,” he admits with a soft chuckle.

“Are you kidding me? They give me the biggest nostalgia! I listened to them so much as a teenager.”

“So teenage Y/N gave a concert in her bedroom, singing I Gotta Feeling?” he teases you grinning.

“Not just a concert, a whole world tour.”

There’s a short silence, just the two of you listening to the song, you watch the trees and fields rush by you as you drive down the country road. The song changes to another one and you’ve already forgotten about what you talked about, but apparently not Harry.

“What were you like as a teenager?” he asks. You turn to face him and your eyes meet for a second.

“Um, like a normal teenager,” you shrug, not sure what to say.

“There’s no such thing as a normal teenager,” Harry smiles. “What did you do, what were your favorite things?”

“I was… pretty plain, if I might say. I wasn’t a rebel or too much of a geek either. I had like three good friends, we used to hang out a lot by the little lake near our neighborhood, that was like our spot. I liked going on hikes and I watched a lot of documentaries,” you admit with a small smile.

“What kind?”

“I don’t know, anything that was on,” you shrug. “My mom had this phase where she was trying to act like she was just like all the other mom’s from my school, but they were all at least a decade older than her. She was trying to prove that she was this mature, very serious woman who had her shit together and all that.”

“And she didn’t?” Harry asks peeking at you shortly.

“I mean, she did. She turned thirty when I was twelve. Most women barely just got married and started their family at that age but she had been married for eight years and had a middle schooler and a baby already. She really was mature but I could tell that she felt like she lost her twenties because of… me.”

Sighing you think back to the years when you often felt like a burden to your mom. She gave up a lot of things just to give you the life she imagined for you. She worked her ass off to raise you and later Trevor as well, have a career and do all the works around the house. Your dad was working a lot of night shifts, there were entire weeks when you barely even saw him. You don’t blame him, he was trying to provide for his family, but it’s pretty clear he and your mother grew cold over the years and it had a huge part in it.

“Do you… blame yourself for it?” Harry asks softly.

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not like I had anything to do with being born,” you chuckle. “I just didn’t like seeing my mom struggle so much. So when Trevor was born I was trying to take over a lot of tasks around the house and with him as well. I babysat him a lot, took care of him in the mornings, I picked him up from daycare and later from school… I tried to make it easier for my parents.”

“So this is why you grew so close with him?”

“I guess so,” you nod. “I mean, I surely spent the most time with him,” you add with a short chuckle.

“And do you think this is why you’re so good with kids?”

“What is this, a therapy session?” you ask arching an eyebrow at him, but he just rolls his eyes.

“Just… trying to get to know you. Is that a problem?”

“No, I just… I’m not used to talking about myself so much. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve been in this… talking stage,” you admit with a sigh. “But to answer your question, it might have had some impact on me. I mean, I loved taking care of Trevor. It’s like I had my own baby doll, only that it wasn’t just a toy, it was a real baby I could play with.”

“Did you play dress up with him?” Harry smirks at you.

“I did,” you admit laughing. “I used to dress him as a princess a lot and he seemed to like it! My dad wasn’t really a fan of it.”

For the rest of the ride you listen to your playlist and talk about not just your but Harry’s past too. He tells you about his friends, what he was like in school and the mischiefs he did growing up, that drove his mum crazy sometimes. As you get to his hometown and he points out different places he used to go to when he was younger, you feel so much closer to him, like you’ve just gotten to see another piece of him that was hidden before.

He pulls up to the driveway of a simple townhouse and as you get out of the car you see the front door open and a woman rushes out, squealing in excitement as she runs up to Harry and hugs him tightly.

“Finally! I was starting to get worried!” she breathes out, rocking the two of them to left and right.

“Mum, don’t be dramatic. I texted you when we left and we got here perfectly in time,” Harry chuckles, holding his mum tight.

“You barely just arrived and you’re already picking on me? Typical,” Anne rolls her eyes, letting go of him. You round the car, feeling nervous to meet her. When her eyes finally fall on you, her smile grows even wider as she takes a step closer to you. “And you must be Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you!” she beams, pulling you into a warm hug as well.

“Nice to meet you too,” you chuckle, hugging her back.

“I’m Anne, but I listen to all versions of mum and grandma,” she tells you chuckling.

“Alright, noted,” you nod smiling.

Harry opens the car door of the backseat and unbuckles Izzy who has already woken up from her little nap and the moment her feet are on the ground she runs up to Anne.

“Grams!” She giggles before throwing herself into Anne’s arms who picks her up happily.

“Hi baby, you grew so much! I missed you!” she sighs as the little girl cuddles into her neck.

“Missed you too, Grams. I brought my new toys, do you want to play with them?”

“Of course! We’ll have all the time to play this week,” Anne smiles down at her. “Alright, come on in. Lunch is almost ready.”

Harry grabs Izzy’s things from the car and you all head inside. The house smells good from the cooking food in the kitchen and it’s such a cozy home, you can definitely see Harry growing up here. Above the fireplace in the living room there are a bunch of photos framed on the wall, most of them are from Harry and Gemma, but there are some more of other relatives as well, cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents. It seems like Harry has a big family.

Harry unpacks Izzy’s stuff in her room that used to be Gemma’s apparently, he is telling Anne all about everything she needs to know about Izzy’s routines and she is listening patiently, though you’re sure she is more than capable of taking care of her. After all, she raised two amazing children already.

While Izzy shows Anne all her toys she’s brought with herself, Harry takes your hand and pulls you out of the room just to go into another one. Walking in you immediately realize that it must have been his once upon a time.

“You know, I can see your younger version in here, the one I saw in the photos downstairs,” you smirk at him, looking around. There are some old posters and pictures still littering the walls, stickers are covering the side of his wardrobe and dresser, some of them are partially ripped off already, he probably tried to get rid of them once he got older, but miserably failed.

“Yeah? I was pretty cute, right?” he smirks, so full of himself.

“I liked the curly Justin Bieber hairstyle,” you tease him and he gives you an “are you for real?!” look to which you just start laughing.

“Justin Bieber had nothing on me.”

“Yeah, sure,” you laugh before he grabs your hand and pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. “Your mum is in the next room,” you whisper against his lips as he leans down, teasing you with them just lingering on yours.

“So what? You never sneaked around your parents before?” he smirks down at you.

“I did,” you admit.

“Oh, nasty,” he comments before finally kissing you. However it doesn’t last long, because you hear footsteps coming from outside so you’re quick to move away from each other, just in time when Anne walks in.

“Lunch will be ready in a few, would you two mind setting the table?” she smiles, oblivious what was happening just a moment ago.

“Sure,” Harry nods, rubbing his nose as his other hand finds your waist and he ushers you out of the room.

Izzy helps Anne in the kitchen while you and Harry take care of the table. When everything is done you all sit down and start the feast Anne was so kind to make for you. It doesn’t take long to see the snickering but loving dynamic between Harry and his mother. Anne likes to pick on her son, call him out for basically anything and though Harry talks back, he mostly just lets her tear him to pieces. With love, of course.

“Izzy, please don’t get whipped cream all over the place!” Harry sighs when it’s time for dessert. Anne has made apple pie, one of Izzy’s favorites and she is going generous with the cream on top of her slice.

“You didn’t have problem getting cream all over you when we were making cupcakes, daddy!” Izzy sasses back, making both you and Harry drop your jaws while Anne starts laughing at her boldness.

“That was an entirely different situation, Izzy,” Harry shakes his head as he helps her with the scream before passing it over to you.

“Grams, you should have been there! Daddy, Y/N and I made a mess in the kitchen, but daddy started it!” Izzy giggles, digging into the pie.

“Is that so?” Anne smirks.

“We were just… playing,” Harry explains.

“Oh, I know how you can get when you’re just playing,” Anne chuckles. “Y/N, how do you put up with two kids in the house?”

“I used to deal with fifteen at the same time, so two is not a trouble,” you smirk at Harry who just rolls his eyes, but you see the hiding little smile on his lips.

After lunch Izzy insists on showing you the dollhouse Anne has set up for her in the backyard while Harry helps his mum with the cleaning up.

“We both know your sister likes to exaggerate stories, so I didn’t believe everything she said about you and Y/N,” Anne speaks up as she is washing the dishes and Harry is on drying duty.

“I’m glad you don’t fall for Gemma’s vivid imagination.”

“But there’s one thing she got right.”

“And what would that be?” Anne turns the tap off as she faces Harry, sighing in relief as she smiles at him.

“That you look happy.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but then just closes it. He does feel happy, even if he is still struggling to accept it. Anne dries her hands and reaching up she cups Harry’s face in her palms.

“Baby, I haven’t seen you like this for a long time. And I know you think you don’t deserve to feel this way, but you do. And Y/N makes you happy, clearly.”

“Mum…”

“No, honey, just… listen to me, okay?” she asks and he nods, giving all his attention to his mother. “It broke my heart to see you so… lost after what happened to Maggie. And I know that it was the hardest thing you ever had to go through, but you need to move on. She would want you to do the same thing.”

“How do you know, mum? You didn’t even like Maggie when I first brought her home,” Harry points out mumbling under his breath.

“That doesn’t change the way you felt about her. I know you loved her and I would have never wanted anything to happen to her. She made you happy and that’s all that mattered to me,” she smiles with a tired sigh. “And I just want you to be happy again. Whatever you two have going on… don’t let go of it, alright? She is making you happy and you deserve that.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say so he just nods before Anne pulls him into a tight, motherly hug that he returns gladly.

“I’m trying, mum. I’m trying,” he whispers into her hair, giving her a squeeze before letting go of her.

You stay a little longer, Anne makes you tea and Harry soaks in the last minutes with Izzy before he is forced to be away from her. You know he is looking forward to spending some time away from his daddy duties, but it’s clear that he’ll miss her terribly too.

“Alright, baby. Be good and I’ll call Grams to talk to you every day, okay?” Harry tells her, giving her one last hug. Izzy wraps her arms around his neck tightly, her face squished into his neck.

“Okay, daddy. I love you,” she mumbles with a pouty look.

“I love you too. Have a good time with Grams.”

“Thank you for everything, Anne,” you tell her, giving her a quick hug.

“Oh, you’re welcome. It was so nice to meet you,” she smiles, feeling a little touched by the goodbye. “Come back soon!”

“I will, thank you.” “Bye mum, call me if anything comes up,” Harry tells her, hugging her as well.

“We’ll be alright, don’t worry. Tell Mitch and Sarah that I wish them the best!” Anne smiles as you and Harry head out the door.

“I will! Bye!”

Izzy stands at the front door with Anne, waving after you as Harry backs out of the driveway and eventually, they are out of your sight.

Harry falls silent and you don’t have to be a genius to know that he is already missing Izzy. You can imagine what it feels like to not see her every day like he always does, when he is so used to having her around all the time.

“You alright?” you softly ask, giving his arm a short squeeze.

“Yeah, it’s just… It’s the third time I’m doing this, but it never gets easier. The first year we did it I ended up driving up here four times that week,” he admits with a chuckle.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s normal to miss her.”

“I know, it just makes me emotional,” he admits, flashing you a short smile before he turns his gaze back at the road ahead of him.

The drive back home is a lot quieter than the way to Anne’s. You play some music again and Harry hums to it sometimes, but he is mostly just deep in his thoughts and you don’t want to bother him, knowing well he probably needs some time to settle with the thought of an entire week without Izzy.

You get some takeout for dinner before arriving home and eat together before putting on a movie to watch in the entertainment room. One movie turns into another and before you could realize it, you’re dosed off on the comfy couch, cuddled to Harry’s side near midnight.

When you wake up something entirely different is playing on the screen since the original movie has ended long ago. Harry is passed out, his head resting against the back of the couch, one arm curled around your shoulders while the other is resting on his stomach. Rubbing your eyes you check the time and decide it’s better if you both just go to bed before you end up spending the night on the couch.

“Hey… H,” you softly caress his cheek before you brush his unruly curls back from his forehead. He scrunches his nose adorably before his eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings. “We fell asleep. Why don’t we call it a night?” you ask in a soft whisper. Harry sighs, nodding his head, squeezing you to his side before his arm falls from around your shoulders. You peck his cheek before pushing yourself up from the couch. He shuts the TV off and the two of you head upstairs. For your surprise, his hand finds yours on the way up the stairs, lacing his fingers together with yours.

You pad your way up to the second floor and walking past Izzy’s room Harry stops for just a heartbeat before he follows you down the hallway. When you’re about to let go of his hand to head into your own bedroom, Harry pulls you back gently, making you look at him with slight confusion.

“Do you… Maybe you could… sleep at mine, if you want to? Just a thought…” he breathes out, clearly nervous to speak what’s been on his mind.

“I would love to, but only if you’re sure about it.”

“I’m sure. It would be nice to… wake up next to you,” he adds with a shy smile and you notice how he didn’t say waking up next to anyone, he wants you to be there.

“Alright. Why don’t we both just go and shower separately and then I’ll come back to yours?” you offer, giving his hand a squeeze. Harry nods and leaning down he places a chaste kiss to your lips before letting go of your hand, going your separate ways.

After doing your usual nighttime routine you put on a pair of soft pajama pants and a simple shirt before heading back to Harry’s bedroom. The door is slightly open, the lights are still on. You knock on the door before pushing it open carefully. You’ve only been in here a handful of times and it’s strange to come here with the intention of staying.

Harry is standing by his dresser in a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt, his hair is slightly damp from his shower. As his eyes fall on your figure a small smile tugs on his lips before he glances towards the bed.

“Which… which side do you like sleeping on?” he asks and you can’t hold back a chuckle as you walk to the side that’s clearly not used by him usually.

Harry huffs with a smile before going to his side. You put your phone to the nightstand before getting under the covers, making yourself comfortable in Harry’s silky sheets. He sits to the edge of the bed, checks something on his phone before dropping it to his nightstand and he then joins you under the covers.

It’s a tiny bit awkward at first, neither of you really finding your place in such a new situation, so at first you just lie on your sides facing each other. Harry is clearly about to say something, he is just looking for the right words, so you give him all the time he needs.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he softly speaks up. “Not just because… I would be awfully lonely now without Izzy,” he adds with a cheeky chuckle. “I meant it generally. I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“I’m happy to be here too. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you smile at him. Breathing out through his nose he closes his eyes for a few seconds before his green irises meet yours again. Leaning closer he kisses you softly, just another way to tell you the same thing he just said with his words a moment ago. Pulling back he settles his head on the pillow and he pulls you into his arms, making you cuddle to his side similar to the way you fell asleep on the couch earlier.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Good night, Harry,” you hum back, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, making yourself comfortable in his strong arms.

Harry grumbles lowly when his phone’s alarm goes off in the morning. He might be off from his daddy duties this week, but he is still the CEO of his company and work is calling his name. Sometime during the night the two of you got tangled up in each other. Unlike last night, now Harry is the one snuggled up to you, his heavy arm lying across your stomach, his legs mingled with yours under the sheets as you gently scratch his scalp with one hand, running the other up and down his arm across your stomach. You’re not gonna lie, waking up in a bed with Harry is far more blissful and satisfying than you imagined. Even early in the morning he has such an aura that sweeps you off your feet, the man was surely crafted by the gods.

“You’re gonna be late,” you hum, eyes still closed when he hits the snooze button and snuggles back to you.

“It’s set to when I have to get Izzy ready. We still have some time,” he mumbles against the fabric of your shirt.

You stay in bed a little longer until it really is time to get up. Harry’s morning form is so soft yet still breathtaking, even with his hair tousled and his puffy eyes, he still looks gorgeous and you find it slightly unfair how little effort the man needs to be this perfect.

Harry heads to take a shower and in the meantime you decide to start making breakfast while the coffee is brewing.

“Oh you shouldn’t have,” Harry breathes out with a thankful smile when he arrives downstairs and sees the almost ready breakfast and the smell of coffee hits his nose.

“I have all the time in the world this week,” you chuckle as you fill a plate with eggs and veggies before you slide it over to him on the kitchen island. You fix a plate for yourself as well and join him on the stool beside him.

“So… are you still up for the date?” Harry asks shyly, glancing over at you.

“Didn’t really change my mind since yesterday,” you chuckle.

“Would you be up to do it today?”

“So, eager, huh?” you tease him, nudging him with your shoulder and he just shyly shrugs, trying to push down his smile. “Today works fine for me. What do you have in mind?”

“I’m not ruining the surprise,” he smirks at you, sipping on his coffee.

“Alright, then just tell me the dress code.”

“Wear that lilac dress you wore to that birthday party the other week.”

You know exactly what dress he is talking about, but it stuns you that he actually remembers what you wore two weeks ago. He only saw you for a few minutes before you left, yet he still remembered the dress.

“Alright,” you smile to yourself before turning back to your breakfast.

Though you have a few extra sessions booked for the week, your Monday stayed empty and without Izzy roaming around the house you have to realize that you can easily get bored without her. You got so used to being with her all day long that now being home on your own is so weird.

You spend the first half of the day lounging at the pool, something you’ve been dying to do, but you were too busy with a certain little girl. Then you have a nice lunch and after reading the book you’ve been putting away for weeks, you realize that you’ve run out of things to do. So you text Trevor if he wants a ride home after school and of course he does, so after fixing yourself up you drive down to his school.

“Hi there, how was your day?” you ask when he sits into the car, throwing his backpack to the backseat before he buckles himself up as you back out of the parking spot.

“Fantastic, as always!” he fake cheers, making you laugh.

“Want to get ice-cream?”

“You know I always want ice-cream,” he snorts smirking at you.

You haven’t met Trevor ever since things become kind of… romantic between you and Harry, and you didn’t want to tell him over the phone, so now is the perfect time to break him the news. When the two of you are sitting on the terrace of your favorite ice-cream place, your paper cup filled with chocolate and strawberry ice-cream while he chose mango and cookie dough, you finally start the conversation.

“So, I have news for you.”

“Oh my God,” he breathes out, closing his eyes for a second. “Are you leaving the country?”

“What? No! Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know, but last time you said you had news for me you moved out from home. Figured it might be something similar,” he shrugs, returning to his ice-cream.

“Well, no, I’m not leaving the country.”

“Okay, then what is it?”

“I’m kind of… dating Harry. You know, my boss.” You have no idea why you felt the need to add the last part when he has already met him, but you feel a bit nervous. Trevor is like your best friend and he had a bad feeling about Keith when you started dating him, but you ignored it. If he has a similar feeling about Harry now, you are definitely considering them this time.

“Oh!” his eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean kind of?”

“Well, we haven’t had our first date yet, it’s happening tonight, but things have… changed.”

“So you slept with him?”

“No, I haven’t,” you chuckle nervously. “We kissed. A few times and… we talked about where it’s heading and we both think it’s going to turn into something… more serious.”

“That’s great!” he smiles at you and it seems completely genuine. “See, I told you it’s gonna happen sooner or later,” he smirks coyly, before he licks his spoon off.

“You were just drawing random assumptions because of his looks and wealth, Trevor. But it’s not about that.”

“Oh, I know you’re not a gold digger,” he teases you, making you roll your eyes at him. “So your first date is tonight? What are you guys doing?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t tell me,” you shrug with a small smile.

“Mysterious,” Trevor wiggles his eyebrows at you. “So he is finally ready to get back on the dating scene, huh?”

“Um, he is working on it. It’s a little hard for him, but he’s been changing for the better.” “That’s great. I’m happy for you,” he smiles at you. “Really, you deserve it after that asshole.”

“Yeah, I hope it’ll go well,” you smile back at him with a sigh before you return to your ice-cream.

After dropping Trevor off at one of his friends you head back home. For your surprise, Harry’s car is already parked on the driveway with another one that doesn’t belong to him when you pull up and walking in you find him with Niall in the kitchen.

“Oh, hi boys!” you greet them.

“Y/N! You are stunning as always!” Niall beams, pulling you into a tight hug right away.

“Thanks,” you chuckle patting his back. “What are you guys up to?”

They share a look and it tells you right away you are not supposed to know whatever they were talking about so you just nod smiling.

“Alright, got it,” you chuckle.

“How was your day?” Harry asks, hoping to change the subject smoothly.

“Great! Met with Trevor, just dropped him off.”

“Oh, how is he doing?”

“He is fine, struggling a little with math lately, but he is doing great,” you chuckle.

“So you have a brother. Do you happen to have a sister, maybe?” Niall asks with a coy smile and while Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, you can’t help but laugh.

“Sorry, no,” you tell him the bad news. “But… I have a good friend and I think you’d like her.”

“A friend? Do you have a picture of her?” Niall beams, already excited about it. Pulling your phone out you show him a picture of you and Heather so he can have a good look at her. You actually think that Heather and Niall would be a good match, she might even be the girl Niall would give up his bachelor life finally.

“When are we having a double date?” he simply asks, making you and Harry laugh at the same time.

“I’ll see what I can do for you.” You let the boys finish whatever they were doing before you arrived so you go to your room, unwinding a little before you have to start getting ready for the date. Around five there’s a soft knock on your door and as you call out, Harry pops his head inside.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously as the rest of his body walks into your sight.

“Hi!” you smile back, putting your book to the side.

“I just realized I never told you the time when you should be ready tonight,” he chuckles nervously. “Is six good for you?”

“Yeah, that’s great.”

“Alright. Then… see you soon, I guess,” he smiles nodding before he walks out of your room. You can’t help a small chuckle at how nervous he seems about tonight, as if he wasn’t still sure about your feelings for him, when you’ve made it clearer than daylight.

You get the best kind of jitters while getting ready for the date. It’s like you’re in high school again and your crush has finally asked you out so you want to look your best. Since Harry already suggested you what to wear, you don’t have to spend an hour standing in your closet, trying to find the right choice. For the makeup you go for a little smokey look and you do a loose bun styles for your hair, remembering the words your mother always told you when you were a teenager.

“A woman’s greatest and most secret weapon is her neck. Men go crazy if you show them your neck and they don’t even realize it!”

You spray some perfume on yourself and put on a pair of nude heels before packing your necessities into a purse that matches your outfit. You finish with everything just in time, a soft knock signaling that Harry has returned. Checking yourself one last time in the mirror you open the door and reveal him standing at the door, wearing a pair of fitted purple dress pants with a crispy shirt on, matching your dress perfectly. And the cherry on top is the bouquet of red roses in his hands.

“Hi,” he breathes out with a nervous smile and his gaze travels down your figure, a blush tinting his cheeks.

“Hi!”

“You look… beautiful,” he smiles shyly and your heart is fluttering in your chest. It’s really happening, you are going on a date with Harry!

“Thank you,” you chuckle softly.

“These are for you. I know it’s weird that I’m picking you up from your bedroom and I’m not giving you this at the front door, but…” he chuckles as he hands you the flowers.

“It’s really nice, thank you,” you smile, taking the flowers before moving into the bedroom to put them in a vase quickly. Harry takes just about two steps into the room and stops with his hands hidden in his pockets as he eyes every movement of yours before you finish with the flowers and let him know that you’re ready to do. He holds out his hand and you take it gladly as you head out of the house.

He doesn’t tell you where you’re going, not even when you try to annoy him and bully him into finally hinting something, but you should have known that he wouldn’t break. He has a four year old daughter who is constantly bugging him, he has endless patience.

When he parks down in front of a modern apartment complex you kind of get really confused, because nothing around seems like the location you’d choose for a date.

“Are you gonna kidnap me and keep me hostage in one of the apartments here?” you ask him with narrowed eyes as the two of you head inside, taking the elevator up.

“It’s not kidnapping, you came willingly,” he smirks down at you.

“That I did.”

When you’re at one of the apartments you are really lost about what he had planned and he finally breaks your suffering and tells you what’s gonna happen as he keys the two of you into the apartment.

“This is Niall’s place, he let us use it tonight. My mum always says that cooking together is a good first date, because food brings people together and you can easily get to know each other,” he explains as you walk into the modern, but definitely very manly home. “I didn’t want to do it at home, because we are always there, so… Niall was nice enough to lend us his place for our date.”

You see that there are two full grocery bags on the kitchen counter and the table is already set for two, you wonder if Harry was here earlier, or Niall did the work for him. Either way, it’s such a thoughtful gesture and a perfect first date.

“Where is he tonight?” you ask with a small smile.

“He is visiting his mother, for a change,” Harry chuckles, knowing well you thought he would be out with a woman probably. “He said he won’t be back until later tomorrow so we can even sleep here, but I thought it would be better if we went home.”

“So what are we making?” you ask curiously as you peek into one of the grocery bags.

“We are going to attempt to make gnocchi with some killer tomato sauce. And brownies for dessert,” he adds with a small smile.

“That sounds great, what can I help with?”

“Let me just quickly pack everything out and then we have to peel the potatoes, yeah?”

“Alright,” you nod, your gaze wandering over to the spacious living room. “Can I look around?”

“Sure,” he nods while he is already elbows deep in one of the bags.

Niall’s place looks like it came right off the pages of an interior design magazine, the furnishing is modern and more on the dark color range, but not too much to make it appear depressing. Right next to his huge TV there’s a floor to ceiling bookcase filled with books mostly about music and art and you realize you don’t even know what Niall does for a living. It just never came up between his heavy flirting sessions.

“I never asked, but what does Niall do?” you ask calling out to Harry.

“Oh, he is a freelancer music producer. Tried to offer him a permanent spot at my company, but he prefers his freedom, like with everything else in his life,” he chuckles. “But he is a good one, we used to make music together when we were younger.”

Just as he says that, you spot a picture of the two of them on the shelves and your lips part in a bit of a shock when you realize that Harry used to have long hair. Leaning closer you inspect the photo better and you feel like you’re looking at two entirely different people. Niall’s hair was bleached blonde which is already enough to make him like another version of himself, but Harry is definitely the biggest shocker. He was rocking some loose shirt with the top buttons left undone, his necklace with the cross pendant peeking out and though the photo ends somewhere above his knees, you can tell that he is wearing skinny jeans, something you never thought you would ever see him in.

“You had long hair?” you ask joining him in the kitchen. Harry’s eyes shoot up to him, then he looks in the direction of the living room, a smile tugging on his lips as he probably remembers what photo you must have just seen.

“Uh, yeah. Yes I did, when I was about 21 or 22.”

“I could hardly believe that was you in the picture, with the long locks and the skinny jeans,” you tease him.

“Yeah, I was a lot different then, but after all, it’s been an entire decade since then,” he sniggles.

“Why did you cut it?”

“Um, I was pretty new in the business back then and had a few assholes telling me that it’s not too masculine and all that. It was a time when I cared more about others’ opinion than I should have so I kind of gave in and cut it.”

“I’m sorry they ruined it for you. But I’m glad you don’t care about others that much now,” you smile at him softly. Harry’s eyes flicker down to his painted nails and ring-clad fingers and you just know what he is about to ask before he even speaks up.

“Does it… bother you? That I paint my nails and stuff?”

“No,” you shake your head confidently. “Not at all. I mean, I never saw you without them, but at this point I think it wouldn’t even feel right,” you add with a small laugh that brings Harry’s smile back as well. Stepping closer you kiss his shoulder softly before turning your focus on the food in front of you. “So, let’s peel these bad boys!”

It’s the first time you and Harry actually work together in the kitchen for more than just five minutes. He is always in control at home, taking over everything with Izzy and you know it’s a good bonding time for them, so you never even tried to push your way into it without their invitation. But now the bonding is all about you and him and so far you’ve been a great team. The cutest thing is that he brought you matching aprons to protect your clothes and you look like you are in some cooking show for sure.

You keep asking questions from each other while working on the food, Harry asks you some more about your childhood and teenage years and he shares stories from college where he had this friend group of five. Niall was part of the group as well and he said he is still in touch with the other boys, but they all do very different things now, the other three are already fathers themselves and live far away, so they don’t get to see each other that much.

You are making the little dumplings while Harry is on duty for cooking them, relentlessly fishing them out of the boiling water once they swim up to the top. When that’s done, Harry starts making the sauce while you take care of the brownies. It all works out well, everything gets done easily and while the dessert is in the oven you start eating what you just created.

“Mm, this sauce is really good!” you hum when you take the first bite.

“It’s my mum’s recipe,” he smiles proudly.

At the beginning of the evening you could tell that he felt nervous, not essentially about being with you, but probably because of the thought of going on a date in general. But as time passed by and he got more and more comfortable in the situation, you could see him loosen up and calm his nerves, so now that you are eating the dinner you made together and drinking a glass of fine wine, talking about anything and everything, you feel like he is actually enjoying something he was probably terrified from before.

When the brownies are done the two of you take advantage of the nice evening weather and Niall’s amazing balcony, moving out to the lounge chairs, munching on the dessert with the skyline of the city in front of you. At one point you start playing a game of would you rather, and after a while you ask each other the most random things, cracking each other up continuously. You don’t even realize and it’s already past ten, you completely talked the evening away, but you don’t regret any of it.

You clean up Niall’s place, leaving it just the way you got it, putting some leftovers into his fridge for him as a thank you for lending you his place before you head out.

Harry keeps a hand on you at all times on the way home, he is either holding your hand over the console, or rests his palm on your thigh above your knee, but either way, he just keeps the physical touch up always. Not that you mind, you are doing kind of the same, enjoying his closeness.

Arriving home you can feel a kind of tension growing, but not a bad kind. You want him. Your desire to go further than just kissing has grown immensely tonight, but you have no idea how he feels about taking it further and you don’t want to push him past his boundaries.

“Want to… sleep with me again?” he shyly asks when you’re going up the stairs.

“Yeah, I would love that,” you smile at him, giving him a quick peck on his cheek.

When you part ways in the hallway he probably expects you to do your night time routine, but you have other plans. Grabbing your polaroid camera you pad your way over to his room, knocking on the door, hoping he is not in the shower yet. When he calls out for you, he is standing at his dresser, the first few buttons of his shirt are already undone, but he is still dressed.

“I just thought that… we could snap a picture as a nice memento of our first date,” you shyly explain to him, holding the camera up.

“Oh, yeah! Okay, how do you... how should we…?” he looks around the room and you step to his dresser, placing the camera to the top of it.

“It’s got a timer,” you explain as you set it up and tell him where to stand so you can check if he is in the frame. When it’s all set, you glance back at him. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” he nods shyly. You push the button and step back to him. “What should we…” he starts, but you already know what you want the picture to be like.

Cupping his face in your hands you pull him down and kiss him sweetly, for the first time tonight. You’ve noticed he hasn’t tried to kiss you all night, being a gentleman, but you’ve been craving it since he showed up at your door with the roses.

He hesitates for a moment, but eventually curls his arms around you, kissing you back softly. The timer goes off and the flash indicates that the photo has been taken. Pulling back you smile at him before taking the photo from the camera, setting it to the side to develop. Harry steps behind you, his arms coming to curl around your waist and you turn in his hold to face him.

“Hi,” you smile at him giddily. “Thanks for today.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he answers softly, making your heart flutter. You press your lips at his, kissing him hard and passionate, like you wanted all evening. He is quick to return the kiss with just as much passion as you put into it, his hands finding your waist as he slowly pulls you with him until the back of his legs hit the bed. He sits down and pulls you with him so you sit on his lap straddling him, never breaking the kiss as you settle in his arms, his hands roaming up and down your back.

Your kisses move from his delicious lips to his chiseled jawline and down his neck, your fingers working on the buttons of his dress shirt. You want him, you need him, he is all you can think about and the taste of his skin on your tongue is making you lose your mind.

His hands move up your thighs right to your bum, giving it a good squeeze, making you moan against the crook of his neck.

“Fuck,” he growls, throwing the two of you to the bed, getting on top of you before his lips attack yours, kissing you with a demand heatedly. His lips move smoothly against yours, devouring you with every suck and lick, making you dizzy in the head with such little effort.

He starts kissing down your neck, through your collarbone and whatever is showing in your dress on your chest. Your fingers lace through his messy curls, keeping him close to you as you try to control your moans and gasps. His fingers hook under the thin straps of your dress and he is about to pull them down when he stops, breathing heavily against your skin.

Harry lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he is panting through his parted lips and you cup his cheeks in your hands.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” you tell him softly, knowing well his mind is probably racing right now.

“I just…” he starts quietly. “I haven’t been with anyone since… Maggie,” he admits in a whisper and your gaze softens on him.

“And I haven’t been with anyone since Keith,” you admit truthfully. “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I’m fine with just sleeping if that’s all you want to do.”

“No, I want to… I want to do things, I just… I’m not used to it, I guess,” he breathes out as you run your fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay. We can take it slow. Whatever you feel comfortable with,” you assure him pecking his lips softly.

“Is it… Is it okay if we just… touch?” He is clearly feeling a bit embarrassed to ask, but you will not make him feel bad for asking for whatever he wants. Pulling him down for another kiss you smile up at him.

“Touching is perfect. It’s all up to you,” you tell him and see the gratitude in his eyes right away.

Removing yourself off of his lap you climb back on the bed, pulling him with you until he is holding himself up above you. Your eyes meet for a second again before leaning down he kisses you slowly, taking his time with you. He is holding himself up on one arm while his other hand finds your hip, gently squeezing it when his tongue slides into your mouth through the kiss. Your hands move down his chest and you start unbuttoning his shirt until it falls open and he shimmies it off with a soft chuckle.

“Let’s get rid of the dress too,” you breathe out, reaching down for the hem of your dress, pulling it up until it’s off, leaving you in only your underwear. You’re wearing a matching set with a strapless bra and as you lie back on the bed Harry’s eyes basically devour you, his gaze running up and down your body several times.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he breathes out before leaning down and kissing you again, his hand cupping your side before wandering over to your stomach and up to your chest. He runs his hand over your chest, gently squeezing it, making you moan into the kiss.

“And you’re wearing too much clothes,” you grin as you reach down and start undoing his purple pants you ogled him quite often tonight. Harry chuckles as he holds himself up for you to work the button and the zipper on his pants before he takes over the task and gets rid of them himself, leaving him in only his boxer briefs and you have to hold yourself back from gasping when you see the growing bulge between his legs.

You don’t get to eye him for too long, because he is back to kissing you, his body pressing up against yours as you let your hands roam his strong back, his skin burning under your touch. His lips travel down the line of your neck to your chest and his hand snakes behind your back, but he stops before he could do anything with the clasp of your bra. Glancing up at you he gives you a questioning glare, asking for your permission.

“You can take it off,” you softly tell him nodding. His fingers are quick to undo it and a moment later you’re lying with a bare chest underneath him. His hand moves to your chest again and he kneads your breast again, this time with nothing between your skin and his palm. You whimper under his touch, you’ve been so starved to be touched this way and now that it’s happening, it’s hard to control yourself, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind seeing you react to what he is doing.

His lips return to your mouth and while he kisses you with so much passion, he slowly lays himself down next to you, so you’re facing each other sideways on the bed. He pulls you closer to him until you’re flushed against his hard chest and while your hand roams around his shoulders and back, his palm slides down your spine, over your waist until he calms bum, pushing you even closer to him. His clothed erection presses against your thigh and you can’t help but whimper his name at the feeling.

His kisses slow down and his touch loosens on you until he pulls back, seemingly just for air, but you can tell his head is starting to race again, spiraling thoughts taking over his mind.

“Do you want me to take over control?” you softly ask him, pushing his unruly curls out of his forehead. His gaze softens and he nods shortly with gratefulness lacing through his look.

He watches you intently as you push yourself up into a sitting position, he rolls to his back and keeps his gaze on you as you hook your fingers into your panties, getting rid of them before doing the same for him with his boxers. He lifts his hips up as you pull down the elastic material, revealing his hard cock to your greedy eyes. You want nothing more than to taste him, but he said he just wants to touch so you don’t try to overstep his limits, leaving this desire of yours to another time. Instead, you lean down, capturing his lips in a sweet, reassuring kiss that everything is going fine to calm his nerves as much as you can, while you place your palm to his lower stomach, moving down slowly until you find his hard cock, wrapping your hand around his length and giving it a few gentle stroke.

“Fuck,” he breathes out against your parted lips and you can’t push a smile down.

You kiss his lips, his cheeks, his jawline, everywhere around his face while you keep pumping him, spreading some of his precum down his length to help your hand move smoother. Your actions awaken something in him, he grabs your face in both his hands, kissing you hard before he pushes you to your back, becoming the one on top. He parts your legs with pushing a knee between your thighs and while you keep up with your motions, he gets down to action as well. One of his large palms runs down your abdomen, stroking your lower belly gently before it moves to your inner thigh, spreading you even more for him before you feel his touch on your heated and dripping wet core. First, he just teasingly runs two fingers through your folds, testing how wet you are and when he realizes that you are more than ready to whatever he has planned, he moves his thumb to your sensitive clit, drawing circles with the pad of his finger, sending a wave of pleasure up your spine immediately.

“Harry!” you moan his name, running your thumb over the head of his cock that makes him gasp and stop his motions for a moment before he returns to pleasuring you.

He buckles his hips into your touch while his fingers move down from your clit until he is teasing your entrance, just circling around it but not pushing into you. Rolling your hips you signal him that you want the teasing to end and he luckily gets the hint, slowly sliding two fingers inside you, curling them gently and it makes your eyes roll back immediately. He rests his forehead on your shoulder as he starts moving his fingers in and out of you while you try your best to keep up your pumping motion as well, moving your other hand to his balls to give him some of that extra pleasure and he seems to be liking what you’re doing, because your name keeps falling from his lips as keeps fingering you, curling his digits just the right way inside you from time to time.

“Fuck, Y/N, I won’t last long,” he pants, his lips brushing against your neck before he kisses the soft skin above your collarbone.

“It’s alright. Just want you to feel good, H,” you assure him, though you’re getting closer to your release as well.

“Are you close?” he asks out of breath, still holding himself up above you, leaning onto his other arm next to your head.

“Yeah, don’t stop,” you nod, turning your head so your lips could meet for a kiss again.

You can tell he is trying hard to hold himself back, to stretch it out as long as he can. A torturous look tugs on his face and you kiss his temple, wanting nothing more than to see him finally reach the peak.

“Let go, H. It’s alright,” you whisper against his skin and he whines at your words before you feel his cock jerk in your hand and he cums under your touch.

You keep stroking him as he rides his high, gasping and panting your name while he spills his semen onto your naked stomach. His fingers stopped moving inside you as he found his relief, but as soon as you feel him recovering from his orgasm, he goes right back to where he left it, desperately wanting to pleasure you as well.

“Harry!” you moan when he hits a specific spot inside you, tingling your nerves just right, your hands come to clasp onto his broad shoulders.

“Cum for me, babe. Let me see you feel good,” he whispers before his lips occupy your mouth again, kissing you with so much passion and vigor, your senses are starting to overload.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you gasp feeling your toes curl and Harry picks his pace up, his thumb coming in contact with your clit as he tries to make you reach your high.

And then it finally happens. You stop breathing for a moment, the intensity of it washing over your whole body. It’s been so long since you felt this good with anyone, and just the thought of doing this with Harry probably adds a lot to the equation.

He slows his fingers down, but makes sure to curl them inside you every time he pumps them in, and you repeat his name over and over again until you finally catch your breath. Your gaze meets his, and you see a happy and satisfied shine in his green irises as he leans down and kisses you sweetly, pulling his fingers out of you gently.

“M’gonna get a towel,” he murmurs, pecking your lips one last time before he gets up from the bed and walks into the bathroom while you lie on his bed, totally gone and worn out from your orgasm. Harry comes back with a damp washcloth and cleans up the mess he made on you before gently moving to between your legs, taking such good care of you. He drops the cloth to the floor, not wanting to leave the bed again as he pulls the covers over your bodies, pulling you into his arms.

“How are you feeling?” you softly ask, pecking his toned chest.

“I’m good.”

Lifting your head you search for his eyes, wanting to make sure he didn’t regret any of it, but he seems calm and rested for a change. Smiling up at him you push yourself up a little so you can connect your lips before you snuggle back to his side and let yourself slowly drift off to sleep, listening to his steady heartbeat under your face.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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@mariamuses @pastequeharry @f-vasquezp @jgtfvhsg @trulymadlykiki @bookwormandtea @sltwins @kakaym @cherryruins @fairysums @styles217 @reidsgubbler @meredithhuntt @hereforreid @kinda-ravenclaw-kinda-slytherin @harrystyle-ish @whitetigerlover17 @popluckbih @mellamolayla @shamelessfangirl-3 @runway-to-my-aid @battlegground @harrystylescherrie @sunsetcurve-h @wellfuckmylifethen @mroy-l0l @percysaidnever @sweeetcreatvre @shawnsblue @jackiehollanderr @lo-harry-ve @harrystylesisbaeee @goldenngracee @sunflowerryvol6 @harryscherrysugar @niallbestie3 @youngpastafanmug @dolcecheerie @dontworrysunflower @alwaysclassyeagle

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #to love and be loved series #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff

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goddess-pan · 4 years ago

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Tailor!Reader in Dream SMP

Dsmp x reader prompt; Tailor!Reader in Dream SMP. Credit would be appreciated so more people can find this and make their own things based on it.

Can fully be read as platonic. GN!reader with they/them pronounce as a placeholder so anyone can adapt it however they want. Both general and character specific parts included.

Characters who have a lot written for/about; Eret, Ranboo, Foolish, Tommy, Technoblade, Philza and Michael. Mentioned; Tubbo, Sam Nook, Purpled and Foolish Jr.

This ended up being super long so I’m putting it under the cut in order not to clutter people’s pages. My personal favourite part is Phil’s and Techno’s part. These could be read as headcanons but are still available as a prompt(s) to use for anyone.

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The reader joining after the doomsday as a time frame in my mind.

The reader helping people patch up their current clothes since most of it got pretty banged up during the doomsday, and it's not like they can just go get a new outfit since quite a few people had just lost all their belongings and only had the clothes on their back. So at first prioritizing helping patch up the current clothing people were wearing and then moving on to making some simple fast to make and easy on the resources clothes for people. Just like basic shirts and shorts/pants, nothing fancy. Then when everyone has at least a couple of different clothes to change to and from starting their own business to sell people more if they wanted. However waving payment if they brought them the materials and what they wanted wasn't overly complicated.

People at first thinking they are just some chump who knows basic sewing or something. A very kind chump, but still a chump. So imagine their surprise when one day they are just walking by the reader's now established tailors and they see these absolutely stunning designs displayed at the windows.

Just like their reactions seeing these beautiful designs they can't help but stare at. I'd imagine some of them just doing a double take when they walk by, someone pressing their face up to the glass trying to see it closer, the braver ones going inside and talking to the reader about their designs and the more anxious and/or shy ones only going inside when the reader isn't there to look at designs closer.

And the reasons they like/are amazed by the designs vary also ! Some just have monkey brain that goes "Pretty. WANT", some who just love the colour and art of the pieces, some who imagine how epic this design or others would look on them, some who love the fashion aspect of it and of course the very small portion who actually know anything about tailoring/sewing and the amount of work that goes into making something intricate.

Some specific character/group interactions I thought of;

Making warm well insulated clothes for people moving to Snowchester so they don't freeze. +A warm cape for Ranboo for the same reason.

Eret being one of the firsts (if not the first) to get himself a fully tailored and customized outfit. Them also being the first and very possibly only person to get a dress or a skirt since most of the other people on the server prefer to wear pants (excluding maid dresses which people might get as joke). The reader crying in joy for getting to design something different for once. And hey if the reader ends up making a few extra ones that she didn't order, but decided to give her anyway it was all just some extra ones they had lying around, never mind the fact that the dresses/skirts are perfectly tailored for Eret and are her style. Just a coincidence, nothing suspicious there. Eret also models for the reader and once he even convinced them to hold a fashion show to showcase some of their work to the whole server. Of course he was the main model presenting the outfits.

At start of the reader beginning to display their designs at their shop Ranboo sees a really cool looking suit on display and his brain just goes "Want." He probably wouldn't be able to buy anything pre-made and be comfortable in it due to his physique. And him having just moved into the arctic and only starting to get settled in, he doesn't have comfortable enough funds for him to get something as expensive as a custom tailored suit AND have enough for any possible rent that he might be required to pay.

Eventually when he gets richer he starts considering getting one but the anxious side of him always ends up winning and he doesn't. However once he finally gets the courage to go commission the suit for himself he doesn't regret it at all. The reader did their best to not overwhelm him and to make it the best possible experience. Just imagining the absolute joy he would feel for having a properly fitting suit that's made just for him, not too short sleeves nor too wide torso and shoulders, just perfect. If he ends up ordering a couple more suits that's between him and the reader. He actually ends up probably being their most frequent and reliable customer.

And we should all know why that is, but let me clarify just in case; Michael.

The reader basically becoming Michael's personal stylist (/hj) . Not only does Ranboo buy a god awful amount of clothes for Michael, the reader also makes some free ones for him. The free ones are things the reader felt like designing since they absolutely adore Michael and the ones Ranboo pays for are commissioned by him. Michael absolutely has the biggest wardrobe in the whole server. The reader learning how to make plushies so Michael could have some more toys, this learning experience including learning to crochet and knit to see what he like best.

Using their newly acquired plush making skills, the reader starts their quest to make some plushies for others after seeing people stare at the plushies wistfully either while they were working on them or seeing Michael with the plushies. People who got them include the minors, their close friends and basically anyone they thought might benefit from them. Some of the ones they made (that I could think of);

Of course a bee for Tubbo, but also throwing in a little ram one as well

Ranboo gets a grass block plush/pillow

Tommy gets a cobblestone block plush and a cow plush. He also later receives a Sam Nook plush while he's working on the hotel

Purpled getting two different sized ufos, one to hold and the other more of a big pillow

Eret definitely gets a flamingo plush

Foolish gets a totem and a gold block plushies

Phil gets crow plush as well these tiny fake coin and gem plushies (the latter causes problems for him which I'll expand upon later)

Techno gets a pig one as well as polar bear one

Back to the individual/group part

The reader just chilling w/ Foolish as a fellow artists. Them talking about both their arts and catching up every time the reader comes to deliver something to Snowchester when Foolish is building the mansion. Just two pretty peaceful artists talking about their passions. I’d imagine Foolish and the reader could relate to each other and their place in the server due to their similar hobbies/jobs as well as their similar time of joining the server. Foolish's first commission from them being an intricate blanket for Foolish Jr so he could have a more comfortable resting place. He may or may not end up receiving that and several other (though less intricate) blankets as well as a tiny shark plush to give to Foolish Jr. Later on when the reader gets better at either knitting or crocheting they end up making a tiny shark jumper with a hood for Foolish Jr as well. Foolish would definitely cry when he sees his tiny shark baby. Any commissions of clothes for himself tend to always take some time due to sheer amount of work needing to be done due to his size so he always makes sure the reader doesn’t already have a lot on their plate and that they know he’s fine with waiting if they need to take a break from it.

Then there's Tommy, who they sometimes teach more about sewing since he already knows some basics. Him probably being the first person aside from Michael they make a plush for, due to him demanding one once he saw the reader making them. Then proceeding to get three plushies in rapid succession. The first being the cobblestone, the second being the cow and the third one being the Sam Nook one. He ends up losing one of them during the prison fiasco and when the reader asks if he'd like a new one they only get the answer of "Don't want to think about what happened and the same one might make me do that". He then promptly receives new clothing (so he isn't wearing the same ones he was wearing in prison) and some extra blankets (for comfort) from the reader.

After Tommy meeting Michael does he use him to scam the reader to make them matching outfits for free? Yes, yes he does. Does it work? Yes, yes it does. Are they bothered by it? Not really, they look adorable in their matching outfits.

The reader being the source for Sam Nook's construction gear/clothes or at least the original patterns for them.

And then there's the arctic boys (minus Ranboo, who will still get mentioned) who are an interesting bunch clothing wise. The first one to commission the reader out of them would be Phil who got the original warm cape for Ranboo but also at the same time commissioned one for himself that would include slits for his wings. Eventually getting to design clothing for him which is always an exciting challenge with his wings. And when Phil finally manages to convince Techno to get something made for himself as well, Techno almost immediately gets addicted to having high quality clothing when they finish their first piece for him. The fun the reader has designing clothes for these boys is immeasurable with their different styles and needs in the clothing. Aside from clothing Techno also commissions them for a pet bed for Steve.

When the boys got their plushies it was adorable but also a very chaotic. Techno giving his pig one to Steve so he wouldn't miss him when he was away from home, but also bringing the polar bear one with him when he couldn't or wasn't allowed to bring Steve with him but still needed comfort. While on Phil's side of things; he was showing his crows the crow plushie joking about he'll replace them if they aren't careful however he made the mistake of showing them the tiny coin and gem plushies as well. I want you to imagine hundreds of crows descending upon this poor fool of a man in the background while the reader is walking away hoping they like their plushies.

The war that ensued the couple following days amongst the crows starts to cool down but the bickering doesn't, every waking moment Phil can feel eyes on him and one or more of the crows coming to complain about the others having had the shiny plushies for too long. He quickly caves under the pressure and commissions more of the tiny shiny treasure plushies. And by more I mean a lot more.

When he finally has enough of the things he goes around distributing them to the crows. Finally a moment of peace, but he still feels like something is staring at him occasionally. Deciding to ignore it since it's finally quiet he goes to makes himself a cup of tea and while waiting for the water to boil he fishes out the few shiny plushies he had saved for himself. The second he does he feels eyes burning into him and now that it's quiet he hears it, quiet muffled snuffles and snorts of discontent. Then he sees what ‘it’ is, it's Techno behind the window looking at the shinies in his hand with such intensity Phil fears for his life (/hj). Phil just sighs deeply before walking over to the window and opening it. For a second Techno looks like a deer in headlights before returning to intensely staring at the shinies in Phil's hand before Phil just dumps the shiny plushies into Techno's hand and closes the window. Happy piglin noises can be heard outside while Phil debates the pros (getting to have shinies himself) and cons (the embarrassment of having to commission even more of the shiny plushies than he already has) of getting new ones from the reader. And in all this the reader has no idea the amount of chaos they inadvertently caused.

And finally; Techno commissioning robes/cloaks for whole the Syndicate to wear in their meetings, because he’s dramatic like that. But since he’s a thoughtful guy, he wants them all to fit the members well and not be uncomfortable to wear so he gets everyone’s measurements. Once he has them all he goes to the reader with the order for the robes, he has all the measurements written down under just Person 1, Person 2 etc. to keep their anonymity and when asked what the robes are for he just tells the reader it’s a book club. When he gets them all and the reader asks no further questions he thinks he’s gotten away with getting some cool robes for the Syndicate with their secrets safe. Little does he know the reader actually now knows all the members in the Syndicate since they can just reference the gotten measurements with everyone’s measurements written down from previous work done by them. Whether the reader thinks it’s some weird cult they all are a part of or just an actual book club people are too embarrassed to admit they are in, is up to interpretation.

#dsmp x reader #dsmp fanfic #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #Pans Writing Prompts #C: Technoblade #C: Ranboo #C: Philza #C: FoolishG #C: Eret #C: TommyInnit #C: Michael_Beloved

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missdreamshade · 4 years ago

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Predator and Prey

Pairing: Psychopath!Jimin x Reader

Genre: yandere au + serial killer au

Summary: You and your friends decide to go on a camping trip that quickly takes a twisted and deadly turn.

Warnings: Yandere content, mentions of blood, murder, kidnapping, graphic violence, strong language, overall dark themes, please read at your own risk

“Stop being so loud, Chan. You might attract a bear,” you friend, Gia, scolded, smacking the boy next to her with a stick.

“Ow! Geez, okay,” he muttered, standing up from his spot around the fire, “I’m going to go take a leak anyway.”

“Classy,” you piped up, watching happily as your marshmallow slowly turned golden brown over the open flames.

Chan rolled his eyes, turning around and walked away, disappearing amongst the surrounding bushes.

“Gosh, he’s so annoying.”

A small giggle escaped past your lips as you pulled your marshmallow off the stick, “At least he’s entertaining.”

A scoff erupted from her chest while she grabbed herself out some chocolate.

“Who cares,” your other friend, Hyunjin, spoke up, “Just ignore him if he bothers the spoiled princess oh-so much.”

A piece of chocolate went flying across the campfire, ricocheting itself off Hyunjin’s forehead. Almost immediately, the two began bickering back and forth, throwing insults and snide comments each other’s way. Many minutes passed while you sat back silently observing, until a pit of worry started to grow in your stomach. You almost forgot, but nearly ten minutes had passed and Chan still wasn’t back yet.

“Guys,” you hesitantly interrupted, “Do you think we should go find Chan? He’s been gone a long time.”

The two glanced your way, confusion written on their features.

“He’s fine. He’s probably just goofing around,” Hyunjin replied.

“Or he’s lost,” Gia offered, her voice hopeful.

Hyunjin sent her a glare before the sound of a twig snapping caught everyone’s attention. A figure was slowly emerging from the bushes.

“Hey, man,” Hyunjin called out, “Good thing you’re back. Y/n was starting to get worried.”

When the figure finally came into view, Gia let out a horrified gasp. The man wasn’t Chan. In fact, you had no idea who he was. He stood in silence, waiting for someone else to make a move.

Although, it was hard to notice, his hands were fully covered in blood.

“Hey, who the fuck are you? And where’s our friend?”

Hyunjin began hollering out at the intruder, standing up from his seat and taking a couple steps in his direction. The man still didn’t speak. He only cocked his head to the side, his eyes scanning your friends. Suddenly, his gaze shifted to you. A small smirk tugged on his lips. His tongue darted out, running along his bottom lip while staring intently into your eyes.

You felt weak under his stare, almost vulnerable. Whoever this man was, he radiated danger. Your eyes trailed down his body, causing a slight gasp to leave your lips the second you noticed the crimson metallic blade clutched tightly in the stranger’s grip.

“Hey,” Hyunjin shouted again, “Are you listening to me, you fucking creep?”

“S-Stop it, Hyunjin,” you stuttered out, but it was too late.

The man had already lunged himself at your friend, tackling him down to the ground. The knife was then raised over the stranger’s head and plunged deep down into Hyunjin’s chest.

A solid grip formed around your hand as Gia pulled you off the wood log. While dragging you behind her, she dashed off into the woods which circled your campsite. Panic, terror, nausea, and guilt. All those emotions swirled themselves inside your chest.

You struggled to keep up with Gia’s fast pace, especially while dodging various branches, bushes, and trees.

“Gia, stop. Stop!” you yelled out.

She reluctantly listened, stopping all her movements, and whipped around to face you.

“What? What the hell is it?”

“Wh-What about Hyunjin? We can’t just leave him—”

You felt stupid saying for it, but the idea of abandoning your friend, who may still be alive, made you feel worse.

“What about Hyunjin? Y/n, are you serious? He’s dead! Dead! And if we don’t start running, fast, we are going to end up dead too! ..”

Her hollering abruptly stopped as she jolted, her body becoming tense. You watched in fearful concern and she began wavering from side to side, then suddenly dropped face down onto the ground. The black handle of a blade sticking out proudly from her back.

“Last one standing, I see.”

Your head snapped up at the voice. Only a few feet away stood the deranged murderer. Tears began streaming uncontrollably down your cheeks. You gradually backed away, desperately trying to put some distance between you and the psychopath. He walked forward in your direction, only to stop and crouch down next to Gia’s figure.

“P-Please,” you sobbed out, watching as he pulled the knife out from your best friend’s back.

The animalistic man in front of you ignored your sad attempt for mercy, continuing to stalk up to you at an agonizingly slow pace.

Just like a predator when it finally cornered it’s prey ..

The harsh sounds of leaves crunching under his feet filled your ears. Your eyes shifted away from the weapon to actually look over his figure. Scratches, bruises, and cuts littered the visible parts of his skin. The boys must’ve fought hard to get away.

The dark denim of his jeans were torn and caked in mud. Your eyes moved to his white shirt. A crimson red colour splattered itself all around, almost like it was trying to create a sick and twisted design.

The fabric will forever be stained with the blood of your friends.

With every forward step he took, you took two backwards, that is until your back ran into the rough bark of a tree. Using it to his advantage, the man quickly closed the gap between you, stopping only when he was a mere inch away.

The man’s free hand reached out, pushing away rouge strands of hair that fell into your face. You couldn’t help but to flinch at his actions, tears still continuing to pool in the corner of your eyes. Your whole body quaked in fear.

“So innocent,” he murmured, talking more to himself than you.

You could feel the tip of his bloodstained knife make contact with your skin causing you to whimper. A sick smile tugged on his lips at the pathetic sound. He slowly dragged the blade up your thigh, only to stop when he hit the hem of your shorts. The tears threatening to fall finally gave up their bluff and fell down your cheeks.

“So delicate,” he muttered once again.

He pulled the knife away from your thigh, only to press it down against your lower abdomen, keeping you in place.

“Please,” your voice sounded weak, barely even above a whisper, “Don’t k-kill me.”

A dark chuckle escape past his lips as his free hand moved from your hair to your face, tracing his thumb across your lips.

“Kill you? Oh, baby, I’m not going to kill you.”

He leaned down, digging the knife further into your stomach, but made sure not to draw any blood. Or at least not yet. His lips made their way to your ear, lightly grazing over the soft flesh before whispering,

“I’m going to make you my new toy, beautiful. Isn’t that exciting?”

His free hand found its way to your throat, grasping onto it with a painfully tight grip. Your lungs almost immediately began burning for air. Everything in your sight became blurry, then a swarm of black dots began to consume your vision. The sickeningly sweet voice of the man in front of you echoed through your ears, sounding far off in the distance.

“You’re all mine now, babygirl .. I can’t wait to finally have some fun.”

Then your body gave out, collapsing you into the arms of a psychopath.

• • •

// Alright, I didn’t want to make myself or anyone wait for the completion of the fic, so I hammered it out! 🍄 \\

506 notes · View notes

nobodyfamousposts · 4 years ago

Text

My-Crack-ulous: Aku-Maid

In which I am a horrible person...

No seriously. Don’t read this.

For @mermain123, for bringing up the cursed image that started this mess in the first place.

Mermain: i said i was suffering

Mermain: i didn't want you to make the internet suffer

Me: That sounds like the internet’s problem.

Also for @bloody-writes. You know why... ; )

_________________________

Hawk Moth was a supervillain who had been terrorizing Paris for the better part of two years.

But no one could really argue that not all of his ideas have been good. Or well thought out. Or in any way sensible even.

Like the time he akumatized a baby.

Or the time he akumatized a girl to transform people into exact replicas of herself.

Or the fact he keeps akumatizing Mr. Ramier for going on 29 times at this point…

Or the other time he akumatized a baby…

Times that he destroyed Paris. Times that he nearly destroyed the world. Times that he gave people powers that were completely contradictory to the goals of getting the Miraculous he was after by erasing the heroes from existence or transforming them in ways that made the Miraculous inaccessible.

But none of his akumatizations had ever gotten him as much hate, caused as much misery, were were ultimately as pointless as this most recent incident.

Aku-maid.

It was known the instant she was akumatized. As soon as she was transformed, a wave of power enveloped the city. And within that wave, half of the people of Paris were transformed as well.

…the male half.

Her power was to transform all the men of Paris. She didn’t even have a weapon or attack that did it, it just happened almost instantaneously. All men suddenly found themselves changed.

Or rather, their outfits…

“Ah!”

“What the hell—!?”

“I can’t get it off!”

One by one, every male in Paris suddenly found themselves in a much different state of attire. What had just been a normal day full of various styles and appearances had all suddenly become very…frilly.

“WHY AM I A MAID?!”

Much as implied her namesake, the akuma’s power involved transforming whatever any man was wearing into some variation of a maid outfit.

Every man.

All over Paris.

From Andre Bourgeois, who has refused to leave his office to make an official statement…

“ANDRE!” Audrey shouted, banging on the door. “Get out here this instant!”

“But, honey, I can’t be seen like this!”

To Roger Raincomprix, who has tried to continue his normal duties despite the…change of uniform…

“Stop in the name of the law!” Roger shouted, reaching into his pockets in an automatic reaction to try to get his handcuffs. While the dress he was wearing did still have pockets, the only item they procured was a cleaning rag, which was notably less threatening as the suspect in question stared for a moment before deciding to take off.

“HEY!”

And yes, even to…

“I’m a Macrophage!” Adrien gushed happily as he lifted his lengthy skirt to give a twirl.

…even to Adrien Agreste, who was apparently the only one to find anything pleasant about the current crisis.

Nino stared.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I’ve always wanted to cosplay!”

Nino, having been long-since exposed to his friend’s deep love for anime in its many forms, at least knew what a Macrophage was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about the way Adrien took to the long pale dress and cap.

Kim rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Just let the guy enjoy this.”

“At least somebody is.” Nathaniel muttered bitterly as he tried to hide as behind his sketchbook. It was a futile attempt, of course, as he at most only covered his face, leaving the red dress, white apron with pockets, and knee-high boots on full display.

“I don’t understand how he can.” Max complained. He tugged at his own skirt in vain, looking at Adrien’s ankle-length ensemble enviously. The skirt was much shorter than he would have liked—reaching a couple inches above his thigh and almost seemed to be defying gravity to stay that way despite his attempts to get it to either flatten or otherwise lower. “I question the design choices.”

“But you look just like Misaki from Maid Sama! And Nathaniel looks like Lizbeth!” Adrien insisted. “It’s totally a cosplay!”

Max just stared incredulously. He was wearing a black dress with puffy sleeves that tapered off just shy of his elbow, white apron, a cap, and thigh-high black stockings and knee-high boots, it seemed Adrien did have a point.

Max, in all fairness, didn’t particularly care in favor of the problems that came with suddenly finding himself in a short dress, heels, and a corset.

“I just can’t peg where Kim or Nino’s outfits are from.” He continued, studying the outfits in question contemplatively. “But give me a little time! It’ll come to me!”

The boys had been having an afternoon hangout session in the park. No girls. No teachers. No Gabriel Agreste or bodyguards to whisk certain teen models away. It was supposed to be a normal non-drama-filled day.

…which was naturally when it became something less than normal and certainly more than drama-filled.

“I think I get why girls complain about this sort of thing now.” Kim said, looking at his shoes. “These heels are kind of uncomfortable…”

“Are you sure it’s the heels and not the flippers?” Nino asked, annoyed.

Sure enough, Kim was wearing flipper-heels. They were black and also had black ankle straps with a little bow on each. This strange footwear did seem to go with Kim’s talent in swimming, which was also emphasized by the ruffle maid swimsuit they matched with.

“Nah, it’s definitely the heels.” Kim insisted.

So this was what their all-boys’ afternoon had come to.

Kim was wobbling on unsteady heels.

Nathaniel groaned and kept his ever reddening face covered.

Max was questioning where they could procure jackets. Long jackets.

Adrien was giggling to himself and asking if they could do a full Cells at Work group cosplay.

And Nino paled, suddenly realizing something.

"Guys. Guys, we have to hide!"

"Why?" Kim asked. "It's annoying, but this akuma doesn't seem really dangerous."

"No, you don't get it!" Nino hissed. "If Alya catches us, we will NEVER live this down!"

Nathaniel looked over the edge of his sketchbook. “Alya wouldn’t actually post pictures of us to the Ladyblog, would she?”

A long pause followed.

The boys paled.

Except for Adrien, who turned to them with a gasp of excitement. “Do you think she would? We could do a group picture!”

All the other boys paled even more, looking downright ill.

And immediately took off running.

Or at least as well as they could with heels. None of them made it very far without tripping, stumbling, or simply struggling to stay upright as they still tried to move away from the area as quickly as the heels would allow.

“But what’s wrong with—?”

“JUST RUN, ADRIEN!”

“Who thought maid outfits with high heels was a good idea?! How can anyone be expected to clean in these things?

“I will never draw high heels on a super heroine again.”

“I can’t breathe! Who created corsets?! What objective does this achieve besides crushing one’s lungs?”

Nino groaned, still running. “I hope Hawk Moth is suffering as much as we are!”

_____________________

If Nino Lahiffe had the ability to break the fourth wall and peer into the events happening outside of his immediate vicinity, he would be happy to find this was actually the case.

And he would laugh.

Oh, how he would laugh.

“Sir…?”

“Don’t.” Came the dark growl from a very unhappy supervillain. “Don’t say anything, Nathalie..."

This was an akuma that impacted every male in Paris. Every male.

…even to Hawk Moth, himself.

“Why did this happen?”

It would appear that even Hawk Moth was not immune to Aku-Maid’s power as he had been similarly transformed. And unfortunately, due to the change, he could no longer access his Miraculous. The Butterfly broach had disappeared, having been transformed along with his outfit.

And his outfit had…actually left much to be desired.

Which was truthfully just a nice way of saying it was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

Normally the picture of stoicism, Nathalie had to pretend to cough to avoid reacting.

“Can’t you order the akuma to undo it?” She eventually was able to ask.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes in concentration. “No. It’s no good. I’ve lost the link!”

His eyes widened and he clutched his chest in a panic.

“Where is the Miraculous?!” Hawk Moth demanded, trying—and failing to pull at the tasteless dress. But as others across the city had already discovered, the clothes were magic and would not be removed or displaced. Not even the frock or the cap he now wore.

“Sir, you were transformed when you changed. It looks like the Butterfly Miraculous was transformed along with you.”

He froze, eyes widening in horror. “But that’s—”

He grasped at the empty place on his chest. Where once had been his lapel and pin now only had ruffles and a leathery texture. His mask remained in place, though it was now fully black except for the openings around his eyes and mouth, which were bordered with a lighter grey color. The material and outfit overall had a shine to it that could be found on any wetsuit.

To put it nicely: he looked atrocious.

To put it bluntly: he looked like some sort of BDSM role-player with a maid kink.

So it was fortunate, perhaps, that no one else in Paris would have to be subject to the sight.

Except Nathalie. Who was probably going to have nightmares.

Or a coronary from the laughter she was trying to hold back.

It was admittedly a bit hard to tell.

But it seemed she was handling the situation a bit better than Hawk Moth, despite the fact that the man was currently unable to see himself or the full extent of the monstrosity he now wore.

…this was probably for the best. Given the man’s fashion sense, there was really no telling whether he would be horrified or inspired, and nobody would want to find out.

“I can’t contact the akuma! And I can’t call it back!”

He moaned, covering his…already covered face with his hands. “I’ll never be taken seriously again!”

Nathalie resolutely held back from pointing out he was barely being taken seriously now.

“It’s…not that bad?” She tried. Not very well, but she tried.

Hawk Moth clutched his head in horror. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir can stop this akuma, we’re doomed!”

“Sir, it’s just an akuma that puts men in maid outfits. It’s really not that bad.”

“DOOOOOOMED!!!”

__________________________

The akuma, for her part, was unaware of her benefactor’s misery, too busy enjoying the abject misery of everyone else around her.

Nobody knew just what had set the girl off to get her akumatized in the first place. Her comments about men being “the eye-candy now” suggested an argument. The maid outfits involved suggested what the topic of the argument had been regarding.

To be honest, nobody had actually realized she was the akuma responsible. She did appear fairly normal by akuma terms, dressed in a seemingly authentic Victorian era dress more befitting as an authentic Lady’s Maid compared the frillier, lacier varieties that the men around her had suddenly found themselves in. What would normally have gotten her a few odds looks was mostly ignored in the face of the sudden change. Few even took notice of her dark purple skin or black hair. Or the fan in her hand.

“THAT’S RIGHT! SEE HOW YOU LIKE BEING OBJECTIFIED!”

The yelling…was a bit harder to miss.

It was the first thing that drew the attention of the three girls settled at the cafe.

The second thing was the various cries of horror as several of the men around them suddenly discovered their state of dress transformed into…well…dresses. Of a variety that made the little cafe appear more like a maid cafe than anything.

The third thing was the appearance of a familiar face running down the road, holding up his long white dress to make running easier as he looked for a place to hide.

Marinette stared.

“ADRIEN?!”

Adrien Agreste was running around in a long white and pale cream Victorian-era dress and cap, looking like Cinderella running from the ball. Except a maid.

A quick glance to her companions showed that both Alya and Kagami were similarly staring in befuddlement, so this was neither her imagination or a fever dream.

“Adrien? What’s going on?” Alya asked for everyone.

“It’s an akuma!” He replied, quickly. “She’s putting everybody into cosplay!”

“…cosplay?”

“Yeah!”

“…everybody?”

He paused, glancing around. “Well…all the guys, I think?”

Marinette stared.

“…Just that?” Alya asked, thankfully taking over while Marinette’s brain started to become aware that this WAS Adrien she was talking to. “She’s not doing anything else besides putting guys into…‘cosplays’?”

He blinked in confusion. “I…think so?”

“She isn’t…I don’t know…commanding you or anything?”

“Well, she hasn’t yet. Which, really, isn’t so bad for an akuma if you think about it.” He said with a frown before he noticed the strange look on Kagami’s face. “Kagami, are you okay?”

Kagami made a strangled sound.

“Marinette?”

Marinette pretended to choke on a drink from an empty glass to avoid speaking.

“Can I add to your order?” The waiter came by, seeming unconcerned by the ruckus or the act that he was now wearing a rather cutesy maid outfit the likes of which would be seen in a maid cafe in Japan.

“You don’t seem put off by this.” Alya pointed out, noting his relatively unfazed attitude compared to the panicking of the other men around them…or the gushing from Adrien.

The waiter took it in stride.

“It’s okay.” He replied blankly. “I’m already dead inside.”

“Oh.”

He turned to Kagami. “Do you need anything else, Miss?”

Kagami was still staring at Adrien, blushing furiously.

“I think I have a problem.”

“You mean a kink?”

“A. Problem.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Story of my life.” The waiter replied as he refilled her glass of water, either unaware or uncaring of the specific nature of her trouble.

Alya gasped in sudden realization. “Wait! If this is happening here then…” She turned to Adrien. “Where were Nino and the boys?” He blinked, curious. “Oh, they decided to head home. Why?”

An almost sinister smirk formed on Alya’s face. One that would have anyone it was directed at cowering in fear. And strong enough to be felt from several blocks away.

Unbeknownst to them, Nino felt that smirk like a trail of cold fingers down his back, and promptly threw himself into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

As if she sensed this, Alya slammed several bills on the table and dashed out the door.

“GOTTA GO!”

Realizing an akuma was about, Marinette was right on her heels. She found a nearby alleyway and immediately prepared to transform and face this latest threat.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” She broke down, letting out the laughter she’d been trying so hard to hold in. “He’s a dork! The boy I’m crushing on is a complete DORK who is in to cosplaying! He thinks maid outfits are COSPLAY!”

…or she would be.

“And here I’ve been driving myself nuts with anxiety over just asking him out and he doesn’t even—”

Any minute now…

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to stop the akuma!”

“Can’t I just take a picture first?”

“MARINETTE!”

“Oh fine…”

_____________________

Luka didn’t realize anything had happened. He felt a bit off balanced for a moment, and a bit colder, but attributed that to being on the Liberty. So he simply shifted his stance to be a bit more steady and continued playing. It wasn’t until the drum stopped that he realized something was actually wrong.

The look of shock from Mylene and the following shriek from Ivan cemented it.

He spun around, not sure what could have elicited such a cry from his fellow bandmate. And at first, he couldn’t really tell what had happened. Ivan was crouched behind the drum set, covering his face with his hands and trembling in what appeared to be mortification.

Then he noticed the mobcap on Ivan’s head, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. And Ivan’s shirt seemed distinctly…fluffier and frillier than he remembered seeing a few minutes ago. He tried to move closer to offer help, only for his own balance to be off. And when he looked down…

Oh.

The dress was new.

As were the stockings.

And the notably thinner and sleeker heels on his boots.

He hummed to himself, considering the change.

“Akuma?” Juleka asked him.

“Most likely.” He replied.

Mylene had rushed up to their practice stage and to Ivan’s side, even as he moaned for her to not look at him. The poor guy was completely red in embarrassment. Seeing how upset he was, the other three had backed away, leaving Mylene to try to help her boyfriend.

“Luka, are you okay?” Rose asked worriedly, trying to respect Ivan’s need for space while also checking in on their other effected bandmate.

“I’m fine. It was just a surprise at first.” He replied.

It wasn’t every day that you suddenly found yourself in a maid outfit, after all. It was a simple outfit. White off the shoulder puffy sleeves with black frills. A black tube skirt. White apron. And…he reached to his neck where a weight was, feeling a choker.

Huh…

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Honestly, he could be in worse.

Rose seemed surprised at that. “Really? Even with those shoes?”

He looked down at the shoes in question. The boots were his style—surprisingly, given it was an akuma. The higher heels were definitely different from his norm, and clearly what Rose was referring to. In any other circumstances, she would be right.

But...

Luka smiled, shifting his stance and resting a hand on his hip. “Well, someone had to teach Jules to walk in heels. And I couldn’t show her if I didn’t know how myself.

Juleka huffed. “Don’t say that like you didn’t enjoy playing dress up.”

Luka merely curtsied, not only showing off more of his slightly ripped and punk-looking fishnet stockings, but almost proudly displaying his ability to move fluently in heels.

Rose appropriately “oo-ed” and “aah-ed” at his display. Juleka merely shook her head and smiled. Ivan was still recovering from his panic attack and had resolutely refused to come out from behind the drums, despite Mylene’s reassurances.

“So it has to be an akuma, right?” Rose asked.

“If it is, I want a picture or two, at least.” Juleka muttered as she admired Luka’s outfit, mumbling about commissioning Marinette to recreate it in her size. She hadn’t known maids could come in this style.

Mylene nodded from her place at Ivan’s side. “Though it seems rather fortunate if this is all the akuma is doing.”

“We don’t know if that is it, though.” Luka warned. “For all we know, there could be some other ability she has if she catches us. It would probably be safer if we hid out inside until this is over.”

The others agreed. And Anarka, bless her soul, actually came up with a large blanket for Ivan to wrap himself in to preserve his dignity. Then she and Mylene helped the taller teen to safely relocate to inside. Much like Luka, Ivan’s shoes had changed, but he was substantially less able to maneuver in them. And no amount of effort or force on his part could seem to separate the heels from his feet.

Once he and the others were inside, Luka moved to follow. He hesitated, however, at the sound of something landing behind him.

“Viperion? We’ll need your help.”

He turned to see Ladybug standing tall. And was that perhaps a hint of blush on her face?

Oh.

A shame.

It looked like Juleka wouldn’t be getting her pictures, after all...

_____________________

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He shuddered, backing away from the door as far as possible.

“Ninoooooo…”

It was a fight for survival.

“C’mon, Nino. Just open the door.”

The survival of his dignity, but still!

He’d lost track of the others and immediately rushed home and to the safety of his room. His room, which he could lock and hide away in until this all blew over.

“I have a key!” Came Chris’s voice. “Somewhere…”

“Give it and I won’t take any pictures of you.”

“Deal!”

His room, which his traitorous little brother was willing to allow the enemy entry into.

Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be this desperate. But if Alya caught him like this…

Black dress. Puffy at the shoulder, sleeves that extended to his wrists and were bound by white cuffs. A white smock tied back with a white ribbon. White bow at the neck and white frills along the bottom of the dress?

Oh yeah…Alya would never let this go…

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten into all those anime Adrien pushed him into! So what if the maids were cute? And sure, he’d admit he's had a thought or two of Alya in such attire...

But how was he supposed to know Alya had such thoughts as well? And in the complete opposite direction! Clearly this was the akuma’s magic punishing him!

Nino looked to his window.

It would be a long fall, but it was his only escape.

But would the broken legs be worth it when Alya would soon figure out what he did and be able to catch up to him easily?

Maybe he could try to climb up instead…but in these heels? It was suicide!

“Fufufu!”

…screw it.

He opened up his window, only to meet a new pair of eyes.

Ladybug stared in surprise from her place at his windowsill, a certain box in hand.

“…hi?”

“Oh thank god!” He exclaimed. He took her by her shoulders, half leaning out and half pulling her in. “Alya’s insisting on taking pictures! Please tell me you have my Miraculous with you!”

“Actually, about that—”

“I don’t care! I’ll do anything! Just please—SAVE ME!”

Ladybug looked back behind her to a distant rooftop and the other allies she’d left behind.

The sound of a key jingling could be heard and Nino stared up at her, pleadingly.

Well, she could never resist the eyes…

By the time they’d gotten the door open, the room was empty.

Nino was gone.

_____________________

Six heroes stood assembled.

Ladybug.

Chat Noir.

Carapace.

Viperion.

King Monkey.

Pegasus.

Six heroes.

Five of whom were male.

And…still wearing some semblance of feminine maid-like outfits.

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried.

“What the hell?! I thought the Miraculous were supposed to change us into our hero suits?” Nino groused.

Contrary to his hopes and expectations, using the Miraculous had not transformed him into his normal Carapace look, but had rather simply given him a different outfit. The dress itself was green and had a turtle shell pattern, while the apron and waist belts were a brown color. The bowknot around his neck was a dark green and a brown to match the apron. He wore stockings. And to his very limited relief, his shoes were flats instead of heels.

“Well, at least this skirt is longer.” Pegasus said, now wearing a dark brown blouse and bicycle skirt. The skirt went to just above his ankles, for which he was grateful. But this seemed to be countered by the increase of height to his heels.

Plus no corset. The outfit was still fit tightly and not very comfortable, but at least he could breathe now.

“Though I believe we’re getting away from maid-wear now.” Chat said, conversationally.

Pegasus gave him a flat look. “I’m not complaining.”

If Chat had witnessed his earlier ensemble, surely he would understand.

King Monkey, for his part, seemed somewhat appeased with his Miraculous suit. It was a notably more Eastern style of dress, appearing more like robes worn by palace servants. He wore a light brown waistcoat with wide sleeves over a blouse and a wrap-around skirt. It looked heavy, but Kim seemed to have no trouble with it. Maybe it was made of a lighter material…?

And Viperion’s dress was different in style as well. Whereas his maid outfit as Luka had been more punk, this was more sleek. Wearing a green sleeveless dress and white smock, as well as what appeared to be a green corset. The dress had a slit at the sides, giving more maneuverability for his legs…as well as more show, given the appearance of a garter belt and stockings. His shoes were high heeled but including a beautiful snake design that wrapped around his ankles. To finish it off, rather than remain bare, his arms were covered in what appeared to be loose green sleeves that started at his elbows and extended to his wrists.

…maybe a picture or two wouldn’t hurt? Or three? Because the amount of details on these outfits were amazing and she was just brimming with ideas now…

Ladybug broke out of her musings when someone tugged on her shoulder to get her attention.

It was Chat. Chat who, much like the other heroes, as dressed in a fantastical outfit. Though a maid outfit, it was definitely more cat-themed with a giant paw-like gloves covering his hands, a paw print on his apron, and bow and bell on his tail which rang as he shifted.

What material was that made of, anyway? She kind of wanted to give it a feel and see if she could find something to compare it to. Maybe a quick sketch?

Oh. Right.

Akuma.

Maybe if she was lucky, they could finish this quickly so she could rush back home and take notes while she still had the ideas bouncing in her brain.

…maybe someone would have gotten pictures by then…?

“Ladybug?” Chat whispered, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?”

Chat frowned in concern. “Is the Guardian okay with this?”

Ladybug froze.

“PSST! Ladybug!” Came a voice from a nearby rooftop, drawing her attention.

“Master Fu?”

“Ladybug! Here’s the Miracle Box. Take as many allies as you can and resolve this as soon as possible!”

“Master? Are…you hiding in a box?”

“No questions! Just go!”

“…he’s fine.”

Chat seemed uncertain, but decided not to pry.

“Let’s just split up and find the akuma.” Ladybug said. “But don’t engage until we’re all together!”

With that, the six split into three groups, with Chat and Carapace going one way and King Monkey and Pegasus going another, leaving Ladybug and Viperion searching together with the former trying not to get caught stealing peeks at the latter.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a smile.

…trying. The key word was trying not to get caught.

“No! Nothing!” She replied quickly. “I’m just…surprised that you can still move so quickly in those heels.”

“I’ve had practice.” He explained, still smiling. He even lifted one leg behind him, managing to stand perfectly balanced even on one leg in heels.

“I…see.”

Part of her wanted very much to laugh. It was the same part that had found this entire day ridiculous. The other part of her was her inner artist at work and really wanted to make a few sketches inspired from the presented outfits. Like Viperion’s sleeves…and those shoes with a snake coil wrapping around the ankle…

“Ladybug!”

Gaah! Focus!

She turned towards the shout to find King Monkey and Pegasus stumbling towards her.

Her fingers twitched. She ignored it.

“We found the akuma.” King Monkey reported. “She doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Just…kind or roaming around.”

“And laughing.” Pegasus added bitterly. “She appears to be doing a lot of that.”

“How’s THAT for ‘doll them up’?” Came a shout from street level. “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?!”

As if on cue…

Ladybug and the others peeked over the edge of the roof.

“Has she displayed any other powers?” She asked.

“No.” Pegasus replied. “From what we could see, her power has already been activated to…obvious effect.” He hesitated, resolutely avoiding mentioning his new outfit or the indignity he’d already suffered. “She has only been laughing. And tripping the occasional person while searching for someone in particular—possibly the one responsible for her ire.”

Ladybug nodded. “At least she’s distracted and doesn’t know we’re here. We just need a plan of attack before we try to fight her.”

“No problem!” King Monkey said with a grin as he reached for his weapon. “We can just do a head on attack with our weapons and—”

They stared.

In place of his staff was a broom. A normal cleaning broom.

They sent cautious glances to each other before they checked their own inventory.

Said inventory consisted of a broom, a bucket, and a feather duster.

“I believe that constitutes as a problem.” Pegasus stated worriedly.

“That’s no fair!” King Monkey exclaimed. “Adrien was able to summon a machete!”

Ladybug blanched at that. “A what?!”

Pegasus pushed up his glasses. “I believe it’s a component of his…‘cosplay’?”

“Pfft!” Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ladybug?”

“I-it’s nothing!” She replied hurriedly.

Viperion raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t comment.

King Monkey at least seemed to take it in stride.

“Now we just need a plan for attack!”

“With what?!” Pegasus questioned, waving the feather duster in frustration. “Our weapons don’t work!”

“More like our weapons aren’t actually weapons.” Viperion said, considering his bucket.

“I could smack her.” King Monkey offered, holding up his broom. “Maybe your feather duster has dust on it and could make her sneeze?”

Pegasus gave him a flat look.

“I think the broom is the best weapon we have right now.”

“Don’t knock a bucket!” King Monkey commanded, resolutely. “I got one stick on my head one time and it took hours to get it off! Buckets are evil, man!”

Pegasus sighed and rubbed his head. “It concerns me that you’re the second person I know whom that has happened to.”

Ladybug coughed, discretely trying to draw attention off that particular subject lest identities be at risk. “Anyway, I think I have a plan...”

______________________

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult of an akuma. Especially not with six of them teaming up against it.

Akumaid truly see to have no ability other than the initial one of transforming what any male in Paris was wearing into something embarrassing...unless you were Adrien, apparently. Aside from that, she showed no other power—neither over the clothes themselves or the people wearing them. Well, she wasn’t controlling any of the victims or shrinking the clothing to choke them at any rate...which if you think about it, was rather lame for an akuma in the power department.

The only real disadvantage in battle came in the difficulty the boys had moving freely in their current outfits. And the afore noted lack of proper weaponry.

Their advantage of surprising was ruined by Chat’s bell ringing before they could ambush her, and both Carapace and Pegasus losing balance with their heels and falling over. King Monkey’s outfit, while longer, also meant more fabric to flap about and resist his movements regardless of how light it may have been, so he wasn’t able to get a hit in fast enough before the akuma turned on him and knocked him away.

Chat was able to get a hit in though.

With his…Kitty Wand…

“THIS IS MAGICAL PUNISHMENT!” He shouted as he smacked the akuma over the head.

“Chat. Chat no. Chat why?”

And Ladybug had hopelessly lost her composure by this point and was laughing. Just laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying actual tears as she smacked her own thigh in her struggle to breathe. Viperion was trying to help her stay standing, keeping an arm around her to support her as she half leaned and half chuckled tears into his chest.

“What’s going on? Does the akuma have some power over Ladybug, too?” King Monkey asked.

…

Viperion sighed.

“Sure. Something to that effect.”

Ladybug wheezed.

“LADYBUG!”

“Lu-haha-lucky haha-charm!”

It said something when her own Lucky Charm magicked up a paper bag. With Ladybug still victim to her fit of giggles, Viperion simply put the bag over her face and had her try to breathe.

“A paper bag doesn’t help with out of control laughing.” Pegasus noted as he forced himself to his feet.

“Do you want to try to figure out the Lucky Charm?” Viperion bit out in annoyance, Ladybug still shaking in his arms.

Pegasus coughed and backed away. “No, thank you.”

Ladybug let out another giggle.

“All right, enough! I’ll stop her!” Carapace shouted, reaching for his back. “With my…serving plate.”

His shield.

His precious shield was gone.

“…Carapace?” Ladybug asked.

The newly rendered Turtle Maid sighed and simply threw the plate as he had his shield, not expecting much.

…the plate slice flew through the air at a surprising speed, but missed the akuma entirely. Instead, it sailed past her, hitting a light post.

Ladybug had expected it to bounce, but instead there was a sound of shredding metal as the serving plate actually tore through the lamp post and into the concrete itself.

The lamp post, now detached, tilted and fell over—conveniently on top of the akuma before she had the time to realize what was happening and move out of the way.

SLAM!

It fell on top of her and she hit the ground.

“Huzzah?” Kim asked.

“Well…that’s one way to defeat an akuma.” Pegasus marveled.

“Great. Now can we fix this already?” Carapace asked impatiently. If they took too much longer, someone was bound to catch them.

That someone would probably be Alya.

And that was the last thing he wanted at this point.

“But I kind of wanted to make a sketch at least…” Ladybug muttered to herself, holding the paper bag Charm to her chest.

“LADYBUG!”

She waved her hands insistently. “I’m on it!”

But she could dream…

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

It was with some disappointment that the Miraculous Cure wiped away the outfits of the other heroes, returning them to their original costumes.

“OH THANK GOD!”

“That was…horrible…”

“Corsets were invented as a torture method, I swear…”

“Shieldy!” Carapace exclaimed, hugging the shield in relief. “Never leave me again!”

“You okay now, Ladybug?” Chat asked her in worry.

“I’m fine.” She said, even though she wasn’t really. She felt like she’d missed a chance, even if it was for the greater good. But it would have been an abuse of her power to be taking pictures of the guys in that state and she already felt bad enough for breaking down laughing in the middle of the fight.

In that moment, however, the loveliness of ladybugs that made up the Cure returned from their task of restoring Paris to flow over Ladybug herself before vanishing, leaving her holding an envelope in their wake. Curious, she opened the envelope…

She gasped.

Inside were a multitude of photos of the other heroes. From different angles. In different positions. All of them in their new outfits.

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding and drawing attention to herself.

…Thank you, Tikki.

Best. Kwami. Ever. “Ladybug…” Carapace said in growing wariness. “What is that?”

“Nothing!”

“Ladybug. That better not be what I think it is…”

She shoved the photos back in the envelope.

“It’s nothing at all!”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Noticing the stand off, the others approached as well.

“It was just something I was missing, yeah.”

“Then let us see it.”

“Can’t.” She replied, clutching the envelope to her chest. “It’s…Ladybug stuff.”

“Hand it over. Right now!”

"NOOO! THESE ARE FOR THE FUTURE OF FASHIOOOON!”

“GIVE US THE PHOTOS!”

“Wait—did she get any of all of us in a group cosplay pic?”

“NOT NOW, CHAT!”

Unfortunately, that small distraction was all she needed to get away.

Viperion, the only one having been pretty nonchalant this whole time, simply watched her leave and the others shout after her.

“…isn’t she going to take our Miraculous back?”

_________________________

Angela sighed, already dreading what was to come.

It was a humiliating end to an already humiliating week as the former akuma victim had been forced to return to her job to go over the updates for the new Ladybug game with the rest of her team.

Said updates were apparently to include maid outfits for the female heroes thanks to one particular coworker who had decided to work on maid outfits for the female heroes instead of the level he was assigned. It had been part of the reason she had been angry enough to be akumatized.

The fact that he was insistent on shoving his maid fetish into the game for no good reason other than having them be eye candy was the other part.

The images in question that he insisted on bringing featured the three female super heroes of the city: Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee.

But not as anyone had ever seen them.

Instead of their usual hero suits, the three girls were portrayed in sultry, even provocative poses. And most notably, all three were wearing some mockery of a French Maid outfit…as what would be believed by Americans, no less.

They might as well have been the initial sketches of pinup posters.

“You can’t still be serious!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got akumatized just because I was jealous that someone else had a good idea.” He said bitingly and giving her a pointed look, perhaps still a bit bitter of the aforementioned experience that her akumatization had caused.

“It’s not a good idea, John.” Angela countered. “There was no reason to have the girls be running in maid outfits.”

He shrugged. “We could just say an akuma did it. After all, we did just get an akuma who did exactly that.” He said, giving her another look.

She clenched her fists and was about to retort when their team lead entered the room.

The meeting commenced and she’d been forced to bite her tongue. Each of the team members went over their progress and updates for their contribution to the game. Level design. Enemies. Testing.

And then came his grand achievement. Instead of the level he was assigned, he gave scantily clad designs for three of the eight known heroes.

What effort.

“I was thinking we really need to include something to make our game stand out, so I made some extra skins for the heroes.” He bragged, sending her a smug look. “The appeal would sell plenty of copies.”

“Or the controversy.” Angela muttered back before turning to the team lead and hoping that the man leading their group had more empathy…or sense.

The team lead looked over the designs with an analyzing gaze. Tiffeny, despite the initial impression his name would give, was a rather buff man who took no shit. But was also a guy. Who liked guy things. But did those things include young women in maid costumes?

After a moment, Tiffeny dropped the pictures on the table and looked at John incredulously. “You know, if you were going to base skins off recent events, you could at least have been authentic.”

John stared. “What?”

“It was the guys who were affected by Akumaid. Not the girls. If we’re going to do maids, we need to keep it true to life, just like the rest of the designs we’ve included. We talked about this when we started this project.”

“But it’s what the audience wants!” John argued.

“Do you know who comprises the majority of our audience?” Tiffeny asked. “Girls. Girls, gay guys, and those who are exploring their interests. Guys in the outfits would sell leagues more than the girls.” He started ticking his fingers “It’s different. It’s original. And it’s based in actual events. People would love it.”

“But…they’ll love this!”

“Man, if people wanted to see sexy girls in skimpy clothing, they’d play literally any other game! Or watch porn.” Tiffeny explained. “But what game do you know of has had guys in maid outfits?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. We want to stand out. And we even have recent events as justification. So if you’re going to be wasting time you should be spending on level-making to put people in maid skins, then get those male heroes some maid costumes.”

“But that’s not fair!” John exclaimed.

Tiffeny paused at that. “Hmm…you’re right.”

With that, he turned to her. “You’re good at designing. Make some butler outfits for the girls. Something dashing to serve as a counter for the guys.”

Angela blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling.

“Sure thing!”

“You know…” one of the other workers noted. “While we’re on the subject, I WAS thinking of some medieval armor designs for the girls and princess dresses for the guys.”

“Hey yeah! Like a light green for Viperion!”

“Maybe teal might be better?”

“Ooo! How about…”

Soon enough, everyone seemed to be invested in the new plan.

Everyone that is, except John.

“Lovely!” Tiffeny said cheerfully. “Plan it out and bring the concepts to me later.”

With a new task in hand and John’s pouting to forever be a memory to hold onto, it seemed her day was looking up…

_________________________

“That was some akuma battle.” Marinette said as she slid into her seat next to Alya.

The reporter, however, only looked annoyed. “Ladybug had apparently called all the male heroes and I completely missed it!” She groaned and leaned back in her seat, bemoaning the lost opportunity.

If she’d hadn’t been so focused on tracking Nino for the purpose of collecting blackmail ensuring his safety, she would have been able to catch all of the male heroes in their maid outfits.

Marinette smiled. “You know…I may have a connection…”

Alya gasped.

“No.”

Marinette giggled and slid over her phone with a picture showing.

“NO WAY!” She cried out before staring up at Marinette in shock. “Girl, you have to send me these!”

“Wait—you have what now?” Nino had arrived, initially hopeful that he had avoided the worst of that day only to have those hopes immediately dashed upon arriving to see the two girls sharing what could only have been one thing…

“I have pictures of the heroes in their new outfits.” Marinette replied cheerfully as she swiped through her phone. “Oh look, Nino! You’re in here, too!”

“WHAT?! NO!” He shouted, rushing forward.

Marinette quickly grabbed back her phone and hid it in her pocket with an overly sweet and not at all innocent grin.

“Mari, come on, no! Don’t do this to me!” He begged.

“Don’t do this to ME!” Alya cut in. “You can’t just show me that and take it away! That’s just not fair!”

“Don’t worry.” Marinette assured them. “It’s going where all my blackmail material goes.”

“Wait what?”

“Since when do you have blackmail material?”

“Since somebody started a game of ‘let’s take pictures of Marinette while she’s asleep and post them online’.” Marinette replied dryly.

Nino groaned. “Come on! I said I was sorry!”

“And now I can be just as sorry.” She replied blithely.

Which was to say: not sorry at all.

“Come on! Alya made me do it!”

“It was just in fun! Marinette! Please!”

“Do you want me to beg? Cry? I’ll cry.”

“I’ll pay you! Pretty please! At least the heroes if nothing else!”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“My blog NEEDS this!”

Marinette smiled at the minor chaos she had caused as the normally happy couple bickered with each other.

Sweet sweet music.

“Hey, Marinette!”

And speaking of sweet…

She turned to look up at a certain blond-haired model as he arrived at his own desk. Though he seemed to be a bit distracted by the arguing couple.

“Hey, Adrien!” She greeted, for once with no stutter to speak of.

“Hey, um…are they okay?” He asked, gesturing to the two.

“Oh, they’re fine.” She said, waving them off. “Just…a bit excited over the recent akuma.”

At that, Adrien brightened. “Wasn’t it awesome?”

She nodded, trying to keep her laughter inside.

“You…ah…enjoyed yourself then?”

Adrien shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, it’s not often I get to dress up in a way that’s ‘silly’. Or in anything that isn’t promoting Father’s brand. And I’ve never gotten to cosplay. So it was…really fun.”

Oh. Ouch. Okay, that one kind of hurt. The poor Sunshine Child…

“You know…” Marinette said, leaning over her desk and smiling at him. “I’ve seen a bit of that one anime you mentioned.”

“Cells at Work?” He asked, brightening up.

She nodded. “Mmhmm. I could make you a jacket based off the lead Red Blood Cell. And if you like, I can keep it so you can wear it whenever we hang out.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come over sometime so we can try a fitting. We could even play Mecha Strike.”

Adrien beamed. “That sounds great! Thanks, Marinette!”

She waved him off and went back to full sitting in her seat.

Alya and Nino both became distracted from their arguing by the miracle they had just witnessed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just spoken to Adrien Agreste…and not a stutter to be heard!

“What the heck, girl?” Alya whispered, sliding into her seat beside her friend. “Since when could you do THAT and why haven’t you done it sooner? I could swear I saw hearts in his eyes!”

Marinette shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “After seeing Adrien Agreste in a maid dress, I kind of wondered why I was so scared of talking to him to begin with.”

Alya laughed. “Well, at least something good came out of this, then.”

“You know...more good WOULD come out of this if I had pics of those heroes..."

“Really, Alya?”

“You’re pretty much the only one who managed to get any shots of the male heroes!” Alya exclaimed. “Seriously, how?!”

Marinette giggled.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

________________________

OMAKE 1:

Knock! Knock!

“Felix?” His mother called on the other side of the locked and barricaded door. “Will you be coming out?”

“That depends. Do you have a camera?”

A pause. Which was all the answer he needed.

“Then no.”

OMAKE 2:

Fortunately, in the midst of their searching, the team had managed to find the akuma and her primary target, getting between the two.

“So what happened?” Ladybug asked him.

John gripped his skirt, nervously. “She’s my coworker in developing a new video game and she didn’t like my input.”

“What set her off?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “She’s one of those types who wants to take the fun out of video games.”

“What?” Ladybug blinked.

“Okay, so I wanted to put some maid costumes in the game! It was just for fun! Besides, it would have added a bit of pizazz! Something for the players to enjoy!”

“You could just try making a good game.” Pegasus pointed out. “If you have to rely on a cheap gimmick to get buyers, it may not be a good product.”

"I'm sorry, really! I mean, sure, I'm still going to put it in the game, because who wouldn't want hot maids, but still! That doesn't mean I deserve this!"

The akuma raised her fist and shouted at him. “THEY ARE HEROES, DAMMIT! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN MAID SKINS JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE GIRLS!”

Ladybug blanched. “Wait…is the game about me?”

Pegasus coughed and looked away. “There have been…rumors, yes.”

Viperion tilted his head. “That seems like a double standard though…since we’re the ones in maid outfits...”

“Not the point, Viperion!”

Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t think I want to help now.”

“Ladybug!”

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