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onceupon · 3 years ago

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London Boy - Part 4: Just friends

summary: You wake up to find Rafe Cameron in your bed. Even though nothing happened, you’re still left trying to make sense of it all.

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 5k

a/n: thank you so much to all of you who have been reading along <333 sorry in advance if you want this to progress faster haha, it simply must be this slow, sorry I don't make the rules (even tho I do lol). Not canon Rafe!!

masterlist

Your eyes slowly flutter open as the early morning rays wake you up. You didn’t even remember falling asleep. As you slowly gain consciousness you’re startled by the weight of Rafe’s arm draped across your body. What the hell? When did that happen? He spent the night in your bed?

Your mind races at a million miles an hour as you slowly slip out from under his hold. You were careful not to wake him up, not wanting to face any awkwardness. You throw on fresh clothes and grab your backpack, desperate to make your escape. You had wanted to get to school early today to work on some homework anyways, never before so eager to trade in the comfort of your bed for the library.

After a quick pit stop to pick up a coffee and a croissant, you swing the heavy wooden doors open. You liked campus at this hour, the morning light still soft, the air crisp, and the atmosphere silent. As you scan your eyes for a spot to sit, you notice the unmistakable sight of fluffy brown hair hunched over a table.

“Liam?” your whisper. “What the hell are doing here?”

That classic cheeky grin spreads across his face as he looks up to find you standing in front of him. “I go here, Y/n. Forget already?”

You roll your eyes, “I just didn’t know you were the studious type.”

“Not gonna lie to you babe, I’m not. But Rogers is already all the way up my ass over this class, and I’m not letting that prick hold me back a year.”

You pull out the chair across from him and go to sit down, spreading your books out on the table.

“Who said you could sit with?” he asks, and you shoot him a look. You’re not in the mood. “Geez alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed… you good Y/n?” he slows, taking in your disheveled appearance. You hadn’t so much as brushed your hair.

“Can you promise not to tell anyone,” you stare dead into his eyes.

“On my life,” he extends his pinky, and you accept.

“Rafe… slept over last night…”

“Oh shit!” he exclaims, and your eyes widen at his echoing voice.

“Not like that,” you hiss, not wanting to draw anymore attention to the two of you. “Nothing happened… like he just came over to watch a show and then we talked for a while and just accidentally… fell asleep. I panicked when I woke up and realized he was still in my bed so I ran out of there as fast as I could and now…. well now I’m here.” You nervously chug your coffee, heart racing.

“So he hung out with you all night and didn’t make a move?”

You nod, nervously awaiting his analysis as you take a bite of your croissant.

“Damn, boy must really like you,” he muses.

“What? Definitely not,” you scoff.

“Y/n, let me tell you a little something about guys. If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what. The fact that he’s coming over your room to watch a show and hanging out with you until he physically can’t stay awake - I mean I can’t make it any more obvious to you.”

“I don’t know I just don’t think so… You don’t know Rafe like that, he’s a total player back home. He can pull any girl he wants, so if he liked me like that he would’ve done something by now. This is probably how he is with all his friends and I’m just reading too much into it. I’m sure Lily Colts will be in his bed soon enough,” you mumble. That last part stings in particular, you had already thought it, but saying it out loud made you feel… icky.

“I may not know Rafe like that, but I know guys like him. I am guys like him. He likes you Y/n. So what if he pulls a lot of chicks, he doesn’t actually care about them. But he cares about you, probably can’t even understand why, and now it’s like bam Uno reverse. He can’t pull the cards he normally does, and now you’ve got him confused and he doesn’t know what to do. Man’s down bad. Give him time though, he’ll come around,” he explains to you calmly, stealing your coffee cup from you and taking a sip.

“Honestly can I just start paying you to figure my life out for me. You make everything seem so simple.”

“Because it is simple. You insist on complicating it. But I know how you could pay me,” he adds with a wink and you shoot him a glare. You know he’s just joking (partially), he loves pushing your buttons.

“Well whatever. I’ll believe it when I see it,” you resign on the Rafe matter. You wanted to believe what Liam was saying but it didn’t quite make sense to you. You were only going to drive yourself crazy trying to read between lines that you weren’t sure existed. Rafe was just used to situations like this with girls. To him last night was probably no big deal. It was to you though. You would never let ‘just a friend’ stay over like that, with his arm around you no less. But Rafe didn’t need to know that, you decide.

—-

You manage to avoid Rafe all day, not having any classes with him on Friday’s. As soon as your last class is over, you sprint home, relieved when you’re the first back at the flat and can quickly slip into your room undetected. You set down your bag and sit on the edge of your bed. Your hand slowly runs over your comforter, still ruffled from where Rafe had been laying the night before. The indent of his head is still on your pillow; you can almost smell the scent of him lingering in your room and hear the sound of his soft whispers. You wonder what his first thoughts were when he woke up in your bed alone - was he confused? Embarrassed? He probably thought nothing of it at all. You can just picture him casually getting up with a stretch, like it’s the start of any typical day.

You slip into the shower and let the water wash over your body. It’s warm and soothing, and it’s reminding you of Rafe laying next to you, of his arm wrapped around you. God if there was only a way to shut your brain off once in a while. As much as you tried to suppress it, there had been a tiny part of you that was happy to have woken up in his embrace, giddy like a school girl with a crush. You’d always wondered how a moment like that would feel, or how a moment like that with him would feel. You had conveniently failed to mention the “arm” detail to Liam, maybe because in the back of your mind you knew it would only help prove his theory right.

When you make your way back to your room, your phone buzzes and the Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 group chat appears.

Olivia: who wants to go out tonight 😈

Topper: me and Rafe have to be up early tmrw for soccer - rain check on this one ladies

Olivia: :(

Olivia: girls night out??

Millie: you know I’m there!

You’re a little bummed that Rafe won’t be there tonight. But a girls night sounds like just what you need to get him off your mind.

Y/n: I’m in :)

Not even a few minutes later Olivia and Millie are barging into your room, causing you to let out a startled yelp.

“My god, heard of knocking,” you exhale with your hand coming to your chest. Your statement falls on death ears.

“Which jeans with this top,” Olivia asks, holding the clothing items against her body.

“Should I curl or straighten my hair with this,” Millie follows, holding her outfit up.

“Uhh,” your mind scrambles, “those jeans Liv. And straight, Mills,” you reply, shocked by your own decidedness. “But now you guys have to help me, I have no clue what to wear.”

“Say less,” Olivia flashes a smile.

Within minutes they tear through your closet, picking out your outfit. Things were always much more clear with a fresh set of eyes. The three of you discuss the night’s logistics before making your way to the kitchen - couldn’t go drinking on an empty stomach. Rafe and Topper are already there, and you try your best to act natural even though your stomach ties itself in a knot the moment you catch a glimpse of his face. You haven’t seen him since you ran out this morning.

“Uh hey I’m gonna run to Sainsbury’s real quick, I wanna get a chaser, anyone need anything,” you ask, avoiding eye contact with Rafe. Your nerves get the best of you and in terms of fight or flight, you were ready to flee.

“Hey wait I’ll come with you. Gotta pick something up for dinner,” Rafe stands grabbing his jacket, and before you can interject, he’s leading the way down the hall and out your shared flat.

“So what are you chasing tonight?”

“What?” you ask startled, his question pulling you back to reality. Your mind had been running in a loop, trying to read him and the thoughts in his head. You wished now more than ever that you knew what Rafe was like behind closed doors back home, so you could somehow make sense of it all.

He chuckles at you, lost in your own world. “You said you needed a chaser?” Those intimidating blue eyes have found their way to yours again and you hastily look away, focusing in front of you instead.

“Oh yeah- uh just for the vodka,” you laugh nervously.

“Basic,” he mocks. You scoff in surprise and lightly hit him on the chest as the laughter leaves your lips. He’s sporting a shit-eating grin, having successfully egged you on.

“You’re funny if you think I’m gonna do shots of whiskey before going to a club.”

“Well you do owe me one…” he says.

“Oh so he remembers?” you reply, amused.

“Of course,” he states so calm and so sure. Your head swirls at that, his cool confidence making you melt. The automatic doors slide open in front of you, fluorescent lights stealing your attention from the boy you were finding dangerously more attractive by the second.

“I thought we’re supposed to take it together? But someone’s being lame and not coming out tonight,” you say sarcastically, playing it as cool as you can manage. Rafe’s confidence seemed to come naturally, but you were more of a fake-it-till-you-make-it kind of gal.

“Hey you know I have soccer,” he defends. The Kook Prince was not one to turn down a party without cause.

“Excuses excuses,” you shake your head.

“Actually, speaking of soccer, you uh- you and the girls should come tomorrow. If you’re not doing anything. Or not too hungover I should say. Game’s at 12.”

“Can’t make any promises Cameron, but we’ll see,” you smile, earning a satisfied smile from him in return.

You make your way to the frozen food aisle, Rafe explaining to you how they call a soccer field a football pitch here, as you laugh at him grabbing 5 frozen pizzas (dinner solved for the next week, of course). You ask him which chaser you should pick. He points out a cola, so naturally you decide to get blackberry seltzer water, Rafe twisting his face in disgust (who would voluntarily drink that tv static). You always felt so nervous at first, to be in Rafe’s presence, but all it ever took was a few minutes for you to completely relax around him. He was intimidating, yet inviting. Mysterious, yet open. He was somehow the cause of your anxious nerves and yet the source of your comfort. The fear of facing Rafe after running out this morning had paralyzed your thoughts all day, and now you could hardly remember why. He hadn’t mentioned it at all, as if nothing happened. His normalcy confirmed for you that him sleeping over was in fact no big deal, and you almost want to laugh at yourself for how much you had worked it up in your head. You two were just friends, and perhaps Rafe was used to being… a friendlier friend than what you were used to. But that was okay, you could learn to be friendlier too.

—-

Rafe and Topper had decided to accompany you guys in the kitchen as you pregamed. They slowly sipped beers as you, Millie, and Olivia pounded back shots, laughing at the way you guys got progressively drunker and progressively louder before finally heading out. And much to your surprise, the boys were still seated in the same spot hours later, when the three of you stumble back into the flat, McDonalds in hand.

“Oh look who’s still up,” Olivia slurs, taking a bite of her cheeseburger.

“We can’t go out, we have soccer,” Millie mocks, almost falling to the floor as she trips over her heel, Topper and Rafe not making any effort to hide their clear amusement.

“Fun night huh?” Topper quirks his brow.

“The funnest,” Millie holds her head high, sinking down against the wall until she’s sat on the floor. You had made a beeline for the dining room table, silently admiring your chicken nuggets. In that moment, they were the best thing you had ever tasted.

“I want Jake,” Olivia pouts, and before anyone can say a word she’s turned on her heel, burger in hand, off to crawl into her boyfriend’s bed.

“Alright you drunk, let’s get you to bed,” Topper laughs, scooping an incoherent Millie up to her feet by her elbows.

“M’not drunk,” Millie protests, even though she’s leaning her full body weight against Topper who sarcastically nods at her, escorting her down the hallway. Rafe sits on the couch, silently playing with the cards in his hand again, not the least bit uncomfortable with sharing your company in silence.

“I’m mad at you,” you say matter of factly, taking a bite of a french fry. At this point, the alcohol is doing the talking.

“Mad at me?” Rafe stops shuffling the cards and raises his head to look at you, intrigued.

“Yeah because you didn’t come to the club,” you furrow your brows, chucking a fry at him. He catches it instantly, laughing to himself with a shake of his head.

“Don’t worry I saw all your guys’ snaps, I feel like I was practically there.”

“That’s not the same,” you frown, throwing another fry which he catches yet again.

“I’ll try to be there next time,” he laughs.

“That’s better I guess,” you grumble, eating another chicken nugget. The room grows quiet, Rafe training his attention back to the cards.

“When are we watching the next episode Cameron,” you break the silence, chucking another fry. He barely has to look up to catch your latest throw, shaking his head with a chuckle. He puts the cards down and makes his way over to the dining table, standing right above you now.

“Come on, time for you to go to bed,” he beckons you toward him with his arm, to which you only furrow your brows in indignation.

“I’m not done with my food,” you protest.

“Now you are,” he says, grabbing your last fry and finishing it with one bite. “Now c’mon.” You reluctantly grab onto his extended arm to help you get up. You walk down the hall together and he opens your door for you, letting you in as he leans against the frame. You immediately fall back and collapse on to your bed with a gasp, you didn’t remember it feeling so soft when you were sober.

“Goodnight L/n,” Rafe laughs, staring down at you.

“Goodnight Rafe,” you mumble, seconds away from passing out. He smiles to himself at the sight of you still in the outfit and shoes you had been out in, bent in surely the most uncomfortable position possible, legs half way off the bed, yet somehow already asleep. He’s about to head back to his room, but he hesitates, turning back to you with a sigh. As slowly and quietly as he can, he pulls your shoes off for you, lifts your legs onto the bed, and covers you in your blanket. And just as quick, he slips out of your room and back into his.

—-

You wake up the next morning, letting out a groan when you realize you’re still in the outfit you had worn clubbing. Your head dully aches and your throat is desert dry so you force yourself up and to the kitchen. When you see the aftermath of McDonald’s containers on the table, vague memories start flooding your brain in horror. You couldn’t have… could you? Did you actually throw french fries at him? You close your eyes and slowly run your hand over your face in realization. Great, you think to yourself, Rafe probably thinks you’re an annoying idiot. Good grief.

You hear the door of the flat opening and Olivia appears in the kitchen, holding a plate of breakfast sandwiches, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Thank the lovely lads in apartment 4E,” she laughs, placing them on the table. “Oh god, we went hard last night didn’t we,” she says, taking in the sight of the flat.

“A little too hard…” you remark.

“No such thing, darling! Now eat up and get dressed, we’ve got a match to catch,” she declares before disappearing down the hall where you can hear muffled groans of Millie being reluctantly dragged out of her bed. You sigh and sink down into a chair, grabbing a sandwich and taking a bite. Heaven. You make a mental note to thank Jake for his chef skills. You had completely forgotten that you and the girls were supposed to go watch Rafe and Topper’s match today. Your worries about having to face Rafe yesterday had been quick to melt away, but today they were back with a new vengeance.

—-

“Okay no one wander off when we get there. Y/n, fair warning, these games get… rowdy,” Millie says, as the three of you walk toward the field, arms linked.

“Things get pretty crazy at Kildare too,” you laugh, “so yeah, don’t fucking let me out of your sight.”

The three of you shake off your fits of laughter as you stumble toward the stands, finding a spot amongst the already packed crowd. You’re finally able to take in your surroundings, glancing at the field ahead. The opposing team is warming up on the pitch, clad in red. Westheath’s team is off to the side, the boys stretching and getting ready in their white uniforms. The dirty blonde immediately catches your eye. He’s jumping and jogging in place, headphones in as though he’s tuning out the physical noise around him, and probably the mental noise too. You wonder if he’s listening to one of the songs he showed you the other night.

He pauses his jogging to stretch out his arms, his eyes glazing over the stands, when suddenly they lock with yours. Your cheeks flush pink, embarrassed at having been caught staring, but his face just pulls into a wide grin and he gives you a wave. You wave back, and he does a quick hand motion that everyone does at Kildare games back home. You laugh and do the responding gesture, as he smiles cheekily at you before a teammate comes up to him, pulling his focus away. The exchange was brief, but oddly intimate. There was a whole field and a couple dozen people between you, and yet you two were the only witnesses to the interaction. You smile to yourself, relief in the fact that maybe getting a french fry chucked at him wasn’t enough to make him hate you after all. You wonder briefly if Rafe spends half as much time overanalyzing things the way you do. Liam was right, you do insist on overcomplicating things.

“Hey, earth to Y/n!” Olivia laughs, waving her hand in front of your face. “The game is starting!”

—

The final score flashes on the screen: 4-2, a win for Westheath. The students are going nuts, rushing the field. Olivia and Millie lead the way, pushing through the crowd until you guys reach Rafe and Topper.

“Let’s go boys!!” Olivia yells, jumping up and down with the sea of bodies and beer around you. Rafe and Topper react with equal enthusiasm, pulling each of you in for a hug. You and Rafe are the last to hug, him pulling you in brief but close against his large sweaty body, arms wrapped around you. You don’t even mind the stickiness of the hug, feeling deja vu at the warm feeling of being in his embrace again; a feeling that is foreign yet familiar, one you hadn’t felt before.

“Did you guys see Rafe’s goal in the second half!?” Topper asks, clapping his friend on the back.

“Of course we did, super star!” Millie cheers, giving Rafe a high five as he humbly shakes his head and laughs at his friends. The mental image of his goal was burned in your head, one that your mind would certainly play for you involuntarily over the next coming days.

“Alright we gotta go do some stuff with the team, but everyone’s going to Central Bar later. See you guys there?” Rafe asks.

“You got it,” Olivia replies, and they jog off with quick waves, you meeting those blue eyes in silent acknowledgement once again. It was that gaze that always made the rest of the world seem to disappear while his eyes met yours, making your heart skip a beat. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Just a tall, attractive, soccer-playing friend…

—

“Y/n! Liv! We’re doing a round!” Jake calls you and Olivia over to where him and Liam are already at the bar, four shot glasses ordered and lined up.

“On three! One, two-“ Liam chants, as the four of you down the alcohol. Central Bar had been buzzing with what felt like half of Westheath’s student body all day. After the game, you and the girls had gone back to your flat to nap and eat, before meeting up with Jake, Liam, and the rest of their boys to head to the bar. Rafe and Topper were already pretty buzzed when you guys got there, playing a round of table tennis with you before the rest of the soccer team and their other friends pulled their attention away. You couldn’t help the way your whole body tensed when Rafe greeted Lily with a tight hug, humbling you with the confirmation that Rafe’s actions toward you weren’t anything special. You resolved yourself to a night of drinking and dancing your worries away with Liv and Liam instead.

“Alright, round of table tennis? You two against me and Y/n?” Liam challenges.

“Please, I saw Y/n playing before, you guys have nothing on us,” Olivia flashes an evil smile, her competitive side coming out.

“Oh it’s on Liv,” you laugh, as your foursome stakes your claim at the pong table. While Olivia and Jake gather the balls and paddles, you notice Liam grimacing off into the distance. You follow his line of sight, landing on Topper and Millie drunkenly dancing together across the bar, a bit too close for comfort.

“What is she doing with that geezer,” he mumbles.

“Liam! Jealousy is unbecoming of you,” you gasp in mock disbelief.

“I’m not jealous,” he scoffs, and you quickly realize that he actually is, even though you had just been joking. Your jaw falls slack as you put two and two together. Liam and Millie were always by each other’s side, at school, at the pub, when you were all watching a movie at his apartment a few nights ago. He would tease her relentlessly and his own words rang in your ears If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what.

“Shut up! Shut up!,” you whisper yell, hand coming to your mouth. “I should have realized this whole time… of course you like Millie! Everything you’ve been telling me you think exists between me and Rafe has actually been about her! She’s your Uno reverse card!” You’re shocking even yourself at these revelations.

“No no no, you can’t use my own words of wisdom against me, that’s not how this works Y/n. So what, maybe I slightly give a shit about Millie? Who cares. Her and I both know that’s never gonna happen. I still stand by everything I said about you and Rafe so don’t think your getting off so easy on that.”

“Then tell me why you’re staring at Millie while Rafe hasn’t so much as glanced my way since the minute Lily Colts got here, hmm?”

“Oh Y/n, Y/n Y/n Y/n,” Liam tuts, shaking his head laughing as he turns to the game your group of four is about to begin. You don’t have the energy to argue with Liam over the matter right now, oblivious to the fact that Rafe had indeed been glancing your way, several times. In fact, he was glancing at you right now, as Liam reached his arm over yours to help you actually hold the paddle the right way. You just hadn’t been glancing back to notice, scared of what you may or may not see between him and Lily if you did.

—

The night dies down and it’s time for the pilgrimage back to your building. You’re walking with Millie when Liam quickly falls in step with you two. You give him a knowing smirk, to which he responds with a glare behind Millie’s back, but you let the two banter as you fall behind, now walking alone. You stare ahead, eyes mindlessly settling on Lily walking in between Callum and Henry at the front of the pack. You don’t notice the pair of legs that begin moving in pace next to your own.

“Tonight, by the way,” Rafe’s voice startles you as you jump next to him. He chuckles at the confusion written all over your face. “You asked last night when we’re watching the next episode. And my answer is tonight, L/n,” he states.

“Haven’t you been up since like the crack of dawn? Aren’t you tired?” you ask incredulously.

“Too tired for Game of Thrones? Never,” he scoffs, Liam’s words ringing in your ear. If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what.

“Well then tonight it is,” you smile. “Sorry about the french fries last night by the way,” you say meekly, looking down at the sidewalk in front of you, cheeks burning.

“Seriously L/n, talk about a horrible throw. Room for improvement,” he jokes with a comforting smile, saving you from yourself.

“Good game by the way,” you add, grateful for the way he was letting you off.

“Thanks,” he looks at you, shoving his hands in his pocket. You turn to look at him too, and after a few moments laughter is taking you both apart. Nothing funny was said. Neither of you knew why you were laughing. And yet it felt natural, not an ounce of awkwardness in the air.

As your whole group walks into the building, people begin to peel off, splitting towards staircases and off elevator stops.

“I’m fucking beat,” yawns Topper, as you and all your flatmates file into your hall.

“I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight,” Millie yawns in agreement. One by one everyone files off into their rooms. You open your door, backing into yours, Rafe across the hall from you backing into his. Laughter tugs at both your faces once again, as you let your doors close. You manage to change into your sweats and brush your teeth before you hear the light rap on your door. Rafe enters, in a t-shirt and gray sweatpants, your weakness. But you feel comfortable being alone with him now. The Rafe jitters had finally began to subside.

“Alright L/n, episode 4, you ready for this?” he asks, plopping down in his spot next to you.

“Oh I’m very ready,” you reply, sitting up to reach for your laptop which was resting by your feet. As you lean back, you find yourself in Rafe’s arm. He had extended it out before you sat back, effortlessly catching you against him. His hand rests casually on your arm, and you gulp, pressing play. You pray he can’t feel the way your heartbeat quickens and your body flushes. So much for those jitters being gone.

The episode plays, you and Rafe making comments here and there before your chatter eventually dies down, leaving just the sound of the show to fill the room. You can feel Rafe’s body lean further and further down, becoming heavier and breathing slower. You very slowly turn to check, and sure enough he’s fast asleep. You sigh, and shut your laptop, careful not to stir him. You could easily shake him awake, tell him to go to his bed, but for some reason you don’t. You don’t mind him here. In fact, you almost prefer it, his body heat keeping you warm. He had already slept over once before and it clearly hadn’t been a big deal, so what was the harm in letting it happen again? You’re just friends after all, you remind yourself, not sure who you’re trying to convince. And so, the two friends fall asleep in the same bed again.

---

🏷: @hopebaker @pogueslandia @mardema

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years ago

Text

Call You Mine

Summary - When Y/N meets Jensen on the set of Supernatural, her life takes an unexpected turn. Never in her wildest dreams, Y/N thought that their casual friendship will change into something sinful after they shoot a risqué scene together one night.

Pairing - Jensen x Y/N, Jensen x OFC!Millie

Warnings - Angst, infidelity, mentions of guilt and despair, explicit mention of extramarital affairs, SMUT 18+ minors DNI (p in v, fingering, dirty talk), slight mention of Dom!Jensen (it's very slight), fluff, a happy ending.

WC - 3052

Square Filled - Free Space ( @supernatural-jackles' Tell Me A Story Bingo); Song Based Fic ( @spnmixedbingo )

A/N 1 - This is a submission for @tvdspngirl314's challenge. My prompt was "I met a girl, we talked, it was epic."

Also this is a submission for @negans-lucille-tblr's "7Ks of the Week Challenge" (Congratulations on your 7k)

@deangirl93's 500 followers challenge (congrats on your 500). My prompt was the song "I Can't Quit You Baby". All prompts are in bold.

A/N 2 - This is a work of pure fiction and irl I absolutely do not support the act of cheating in a relationship. No hate towards the Ackles fam. I love Danneel and for the sake of the fic, Jensen is married to an OFC and not Dee.

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 (Thanks, hon <33)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I can't quit you baby

So I'm gonna put you down for awhile

I said I can't quit you baby

I guess I gotta put you down for awhile

“Jensen...” The name rolled off her tongue effortlessly as the man’s fingers danced across her bare skin, his electrifying touch leaving Y/N breathless, panting and begging for more. The very touch of his that had started it all.

Everyone always expressed how being in love was the most exhilarating feeling in the world, but no one ever spoke about the perils of being in love with a person who already belonged to someone else. The ring on Jensen's finger served as a wistful and painful reminder of that.

As soon as the doors had closed, the actor had backed up Y/N against the elevator, letting her see the need in his eyes. His hands had sneaked behind her, his fingers entangling with the strands of her hair, completely messing the hairstyle she had pulled off for the m&g panel in the evening. Her hands landed on his biceps, trying to steady herself. Their lips moulded together so perfectly as if they were made for each other, but it pained Y/N to think that she was nothing but his dirty mistress.

Their relationship, if she could even call it one, was all about clandestine meets, stolen stares and subtle touches. Jensen was like a drug for her and she was high on the thrill of being with him even if he was gone in the morning, leaving her behind with nothing but guilt.

Jensen had closed the door of the suite behind him as they stepped into Y/N’s room together. With lips swollen from their heavy makeout in the elevator, he wasted no time as she found herself pinned to the wall by the actor's strong hands. In the fairly lit room, she noticed his wedding band was now missing. Y/N knew Jensen and his wife's relationship was on the rocks even before she had started to work on the SPN set. Which was also the reason why few months ago, the hide-and-seek between them and the hungry paps with cameras had started.

Hands on her hips, Jensen had pulled her close on the set, more than the director demanded it. That night, he had found himself standing inside her trailer, after the fated shot. The heart wants what it wants and just as the saying went, they had given in to their burning desires. In a moment of weakness, Jensen had broken off every single one of his vows and destroyed any hope of salvaging his relationship with his estranged wife.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jensen ripped her blouse off, unhooking her bra quickly, barely containing his eagerness before stepping out of his own jacket. Y/N clutched at the ends of the counter, knocking off the magazines lying on top of it and draping her other arm around Jensen's firm body. He delicately cupped her face as his mouth devoured hers. She could taste the mint and coffee on his lips feeling his teeth graze roughly against her, making her moan into him. The actor pushed her legs apart with his knees and stood close between her thighs as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth.

In desperate need of air, they momentarily separated before Jensen dipped his head down again, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down her neck. Y/N’s legs buckled under his hypnotic touch when his mouth found her pulse point and she supported herself against his body. Jensen's hands moved down to her breasts, kneading them. His fingers caressed her hard nipples before his mouth latched onto one sensitive bud.

“Jay, please-” Y/N could only form two words as Jensen flicked her nipple while his fingers worked on the other one, spurring her on. Words weren't quite necessary, cause the man knew exactly what she needed. He knew her every tic, her every emotion like the back of his hand and Y/N was aware of that fact as well. No one could ever worship her body like he did.

Jensen was still wearing the black polo shirt, his noticeable bulge painfully straining in his jeans. She felt her wetness dampening the fabric of her panties as she thrusted her hips forward in need of some friction, her heated core brushing against his bulge.

Pulling apart for a second, Jensen’s viridian eyes studied her as his hands sneaked under her skirt. He watched her intently as she sucked on her bottom lip, closing her eyes when his fingers grazed past her soakedpanties.

A moan escaped her wet lips when Jensen's fingers hooked themselves with the waistband and in one swift pull, got rid of the panties. It quickly glided down her legs, pooling at her feet. He teased her by flicking at her bundle of nerves, making her lean her head back against the wall.

Y/N swayed on her feet a little, her hold on his shoulders tightening as she finally felt her legs give away when his fingers rubbed circles on her clit.

“Fuck-” she panted as he pushed a single finger inside her.

“Have you been thinkin’ about me all day?” Jensen leaned towards her ears, his scruff grazing across her neck. Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice, eyes still squeezed shut in sheer ecstasy.

“Sweetheart, use your words.” He ordered as his finger curled inside her.

“Yeah-fuck, yes.” Jensen kissed below her ear, smirking against her skin when she obediently answered him.

“I have been thinkin’ about you too, counting down the hours till I could get you alone.” He whispered against her neck. She mewled at the feeling of him adding another finger, his thick digits stretching her out as they curled inside her. “That little dress wasn't helping either.”

“Uh-huh,” she could feel the coil inside her tightening as his finger worked their way inside her, his thumb rubbing at her folds and clit, edging her on.

“I have thinkin’ all day about you clenching around my fingers and then my cock-” his words had an immediate effect as she clenched around his fingers as he kept pumping into her, “you've thinkin’ about that too, huh?” Y/N nodded again.

“What did I say? Words.” His other hand travelled down her body, stopping at her stomach and he pinched at her waist. “Words, baby.”

“I-I have been thinki-” Y/N panted when she realised she was close to her climax. Jensen picked up his pace and pumped his fingers faster into her, brushing past her g-spot over and over again.

When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,

You know it hurts me deep down inside

When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,

You know it hurts me deep down inside

Oh, when you hear me, honey, baby,

You know you're my one desire

“Lemme say it, sweetheart. I know you've been thinking how I would make you come on my fingers, how my dick is gonna fill you up, make you come all over me. Don't lie.” Jensen's every assumption was right to the dot. She had been thinking of everything to the last detail since the moment she watched him get out of his car, right outside of the convention building. But there was another thought on her mind, the image of him pushing her against one of the counters of his empty brewery a few weeks ago with him buried deep inside her.

That was the last she had seen Jensen before the convention as he had gone back home to his wife.

His wife.

The one woman he had promised to be with in sickness and health, till death do them apart. Guilt clouded Y/N’s mind but all rational thoughts flew out of the window when he lowered his head, kissing the neck and the coil inside her finally snapped.

With a cry of his name, she came undone on his fingers, her legs finally giving away but Jensen's hold prevented her from toppling over. He pulled his fingers out as she whimpered at the feeling. His digits still covered in her juices, Jensen pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere in the room. Y/N panted, trying to come down from the high but she wanted more. She needed to feel him.

“Y/N-” Jensen rasped, looking right at her with lust blown eyes. Y/N smacked her lips at the sight of his freckled, toned body.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He smirked as Y/N eagerly reached out for his belt buckle.

“Uh-huh.” She agreed. Jensen bit back a moan when she reached out to palm his bulge. He threw his head back at the feeling of her hand on his erection through his jeans.

“It has been weeks-” Jensen said, clearly hinting at their last time together at the brewery. He quickly unbuckled his belt, pushing down his jeans along with his boxers, his erection springing free from its confines.

“Baby, it has been weeks since I felt your tight pussy wrapped around me. Fuck.” Y/N looked at him with hooded eyes and wrapped her fingers around his length, running her palm along its shaft and her thumb rubbed the tip of his cock, already lined with beads of precum. Jensen hiked her skirt up, pushing her hands away and gave his hard cock a few slow strokes. He nudged her sensitive core with his swollen tip, all while pulling out sweet, sinful noises out of her.

“Jay,” he loved hearing her needy moans, her voice raspy when she called out his name. His hands grabbed her ass and picked her up. Hooking her legs and arms behind him, with her back still firmly pushed up against the wall, Jensen lined himself with at her entrance.

Grunting, he pushed himself into her and wrapped his arms around her body. Y/N’s mouth fell open with an inaudible moan at the feeling of his cock stretching her out. Jensen placed a chaste kiss on her lips as he let her adjust to his size before slowly pulling out of her, leaving only the tip of his engorged cock inside, and pushed back in again, much deeper than before.

Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him close as she bucked up her hips to match his rhythm. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Jensen grunted as he started to thrust faster.

Y/N whimpered, her eyes fluttering close as Jensen snapped his hips forward before slowly drawing them back. With every thrust, she inched closer to her release as their breathing became ragged. The actor’s skin was flushed, his cheeks turning a bright red with beads of sweat lining his forehead as he felt her clench around her. Her nails dug into his back as the coil inside her tightened.

“‘M so close,” she whispered, as he continued to mercilessly pound into her.

“Cum around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you all over me-” Jensen growled into her ears, tugging on her earlobes with his teeth and his breath tickled her neck, making her quiver. Jensen had an effect on her that no one ever had. Sometimes, she would say to herself that Millie was a really lucky woman who got to have Jensen all the time and not just on convention weekends and sneaky nights spent in his empty brewery or a trailer park.

And Y/N was the one who was ruining their relationship. A home-wrecker. The tabloids would rightfully call her that if they ever found out about their twisted relationship.

“Jensen, fuck-” a cry of pure ecstasy left her lips as the coil inside her snapped once more and she felt herself coming undone for the second time that night. Jensen's thrust had become sloppy. He rocked his hips forward, thrusting a few more times. Burying his face in the crook of her neck a muffled scream of her name escaped his lips as he spilled into her, his white, hot seed coating her walls.

He lazily circled his hips a few times, his cock becoming soft inside her before he pulled out of her. His cum trickled down her leg, when he set her down, Y/N felt herself go weak in her knees when she tried to stand.

“Hi,” Jensen smiled, their eyes meeting, before he leaned forward.

“Hi.” Y/N whispered back. They stood together, holding each other closely with their foreheads touching. Guilt seeped into her and so did despair but she didn't regret any moment they spent together.

“Let me clean up the mess,” Jensen said.

“I'm gonna hop into the shower.” She said, holding out the hope that he would join her but he didn't.

“Alright.” It was all he said. Dejected, she pulled away from him and made her way towards the shower. All she wanted was to spend every single minute with him before he went back to his room to keep up the facade of his happily married life.

In the shower, Y/N thought about the day she had first met Jensen when she was a newbie on the set and reflected back on their rollercoaster of a relationship. There was an instant connection between them. Jensen was always such a gentleman. He truly cared for her, but love... she didn't know if even the idea of love existed between them or if she was just an affair.

She stepped out of the bathroom and saw that Jensen was now In his boxers. He gave her a nod and moved past her into the bathroom. A sad smile formed on her lips as she watched him walk away. She put on a comfortable pair of pjs and crawled into the bed, under the covers, waiting for the exact moment when Jensen stepped out of the bathroom and put on his clothes. And just like every other time, she would watch him leave after he kissed her forehead and told her he doesn't have a choice.

This time though, it was going to be different.

Y/N didn't want Jensen to leave, neither did she want to watch him go so she squeezed her eyes shut, adamant of not responding when he walked up to her.

She flinched when he heard the bathroom door shut. She counted down the minutes till the goodbye kiss but instead she felt the other side of the bed dip down with a familiar weight. Opening her eyes, she felt his hand wrapping around her waist. Jensen was in her bed. She turned to face him.

He was breathing slowly. His long lashes rested against his cheek and his freckled face reflected the look of absolute contentment.

Said you know I love you baby

My love for you I could never hide

Oh, you know I love you baby

My love for you I could never hide

Oh when I feel you near me little girl

I know you are my one desire

“You're staring.” He whispered.

“You're staying.” She replied back, making his beautiful eyes flutter open.

Pursing his lips together, he said, “Do you not want me to?”

“No-I mean, yes. Stay…But, what about Jared?”

“What about him?” He scrunched up his face in confusion.

“What if he finds out about us?” Y/N asked as she panicked. Hiding this relationship from Jared was the hardest task. He was like a brother to Jensen so he didn't want to lie to him but it was important to keep him in the shadows.

“Let him find out. I don't care anymore-”

“Jensen!” Y/N exclaimed. She didn't understand what was going on in his mind.

“It's okay, Y/N.” He said.

“How is it okay?”

“Millie and I are over. I finally ended it.”

Her mouth fell open in complete surprise. Of everything she had expected, this was the last thing she was anticipating to hear. “Our relationship was long dead anyway. We have separated. I'm filing for a divorce once I go back home this week.” Y/N would lie if she said that the thought of him choosing her over his wife had never crossed her mind.

“It's all because of me, isn't it-”

“No. No, sweetheart. We were already over even before I met you. I was just too scared to admit it to myself but then I met a girl, we talked. It was epic and the thought of losing her scared me more than anything else.” Jensen caressed her cheek, a gentle smile gracing his lips. He felt a burden being lifted from his shoulders. He could finally be with the woman he truly loved.

“Does this mean no more hiding?” She said, tears pooled in her eyes. Y/N needed to hear him say it now that she could shout it from the rooftops Jensen belonged to her, and she to him.

“Being with you made me realise what I was missing. All this while, I wasted my time trying to work on a dead relationship when I should have realised sooner that it was a lost case. That you are the one I want 'cause baby, I can't quit you. Millie and I would have never worked out no matter how many couple’s therapy we went to….I have never regretted a single moment I have spent with you. I love what we have. I love you.” Her breath hitched in her throat as she took in everything he said. Her mind was reeling from his sudden declaration. A single tear rolled down her cheek, as the corners of her lips tugged up, forming a smile but she was too overwhelmed to say anything, which Jensen took the wrong way and it scared him.

“Y/N-” his smile disappeared as his hand dropped from her cheeks, “I want you to be mine. Will you be mine?” Y/N immediately moved towards him. Her hands raked through his soft hair before she pulled him in for a longing kiss.

“I didn't even realise when I became yours but I know it happened at some point, Jay. I love you so much.” Y/N said. With smiles and their eyes sparkling with newfound happiness, they stayed in bed as Y/N nuzzled into his side. Jensen's warm hands were wrapped around her and she smiled against his chest. For the first time, the fear of losing Jensen didn't cross her mind because she knew he would stay with her that night and all that would follow. She was going to wake up with him by her side and didn't have to sneak behind anyone's back anymore.

She was happy and in love and so was Jensen.

Feedback is highly appreciated!

#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x you #SPNMixedBingo #bees7ksoftheweekchallenge #allyswritingevent #deangirl93s500followerscelebration #TellMeaStoryBingo #jensen x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles angst

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fearhims3lf-retired · 2 years ago

Text

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @fearhims3lf @monstersfear

SUMMARY: Emilio keeps an eye on Mateo as he installs security cameras

WARNINGS: None

It was something Teddy only mentioned in passing. A new storefront for his shop, his but for a few signatures. Emilio doubted he’d expected the hunter to do anything about it, though it was entirely plausible that he knew Emilio well enough to see this sort of thing coming. He hadn’t seemed surprised, in any case, when Emilio asked for the address. Teddy was more than familiar with Emilio’s paranoia by now, and the way the cult incident had only served to further heighten it. So… Emilio was here. Across the street from Much Ado’s new home, scoping out the area. Vantage points, alleyways that made him nervous, people who seemed suspicious.

The last category was the one he focused on the most, eyeing everyone from the kid on the skateboard to the woman smoking on her balcony with a suspicious eye. For the most part, they seemed clear enough. At least… until he caught sight of the guy leaning against the light pole doing what looked like the same thing he was doing.

Immediately, Emilio was on edge. The only member of the cult he’d met was Frankie, and he knew he was no longer a problem. The encounter didn’t do much to let him know what to expect from the cult, though. He didn’t know if Frankie was the norm or not, wasn’t sure if the cult’s other members were of a similar demographic. Marina had mentioned spellcasters, and Frankie’s story made him figure there were at least a few necromancers. It spun a tale of a diverse group of people. There was no reason to think that this man couldn’t be one of them.

Emilio pushed himself forward, putting his cigarette out against the heel of his boot and trudging towards the figure at the edge of the sidewalk. Coming to a stop beside him, he quickly cut to the chase. “If you’re scoping out this shop,” he said lowly, “I’m here to tell you it’s a bad plan.”

“If you’re looking to live any decent life, I’m here to tell you, that smoking that shit is a bad plan.” Mateo smirked and pulled down his hoodie to reveal himself a little more. He still had a few more hours until sundown, so he wanted to check out the new area for the shop. Add a few cameras and a security system he picked out based on one of his boss’s recommendations. He figured that if it came with an approval from a rich guy, it had to work. Those fuckers had loads to keep locked away and covered, meaning they had to get the best of the best. So, Mateo got it for the new shop in hopes of keeping his cover safe. And perhaps he liked his boss too. Didn’t really seem, to him, that Teddy could even hurt a fly. His apá taught him to not only respect your jefe, but also give back. In that case, he was doing a little bit of both.

“You a cop or something? ‘Cause uh, to be real with you fam, it’d be kind of fucked up for you to be profiling me.” Mateo reached for his wallet, and pulled out Teddy’s business card, handing it over quickly to Emilio. “‘Sides, I work for the owner. You can call him if ya want. I’m Mateo. Just out here to check out where to install all this shit.” Gesturing to the boxes on the ground, it was clear that it was all security equipment. “Was gonna go ‘ol Ted a surprise since some puto torched his last place.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not looking to live any decent life,” Emilio replied dryly, eyes flickering carefully across the man’s face. The guy was definitely scoping something out, though it was impossible to tell what or why. Paranoia, as it often did, insisted that he was a threat even if there was no evidence to support it. Once, evidence might have outweighed everything. He used to be much more reasonable than this. But after everything, especially with recent events thrown in… There was no room left in Emilio to be reasonable.

Raising a brow at the assumption, Emilio glanced down at himself. Leather jacket, tattered t-shirt, worn jeans. He knew the parts of him he couldn’t see were similarly messy; unruly hair with a few odd curls where it was getting longer than he normally wore it, scruffy face where shaving had fallen to the wayside, faint bags under his eyes to reflect the way he’d been sleeping even less than a slayer could handle. “Do I look like a fucking cop?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, reaching out to take the business card. It was one of Teddy’s, his name and number printed on it in a neat font. He relaxed ever so slightly as the security equipment was pointed out. “Last place is why I’m so suspicious,” he replied, spinning the business card between his fingers absently. “People who torched it are still around. Worried you might’ve been with them, coming to make ash of this one next.” He still wasn’t entirely convinced that wasn’t the case. The security equipment provided a good cover but, for all Emilio knew, it was just that. “When’d he hire you? Never seen you around before.”

“Take that emo shit somewhere else, man. You’re too old for that.” Mateo tensed his shoulders and teased a smile at Emilio. Given the man’s current state of being, it wasn’t easy to tell his age. Probably mid-forties was his guess. People with Latin blood normally aged like fine wine, but as he let his eyes linger on every detail, he could see how little care there was put in both his life and appearance. He looked too tired to care. Mateo couldn’t help but wonder how good those nightmares that kept him up at night would feel, but evidently, Emilio was just opening himself up for another blow.

“Actually, yeah. You do. One of those undercover cops that they send out because they stick out in all the right ways.” His smile grew, giving the man a flirty wink. Mateo couldn’t help but huff out another chuckle at his expense. Being wound too tight made him susceptible to a good bullying. He’d do that to any one of his cousins. The tense situation didn’t change anything. It’d have to be a little more dire for Mateo to back off on the attitude. “Yeah, makes sense. But like I said,” he pointed again, “I’m installing these. And hey, mira, I saw the pendejo that lit it up. He was ugly, the fuck? I’m friends with pretty people.” Laughing, his hands landed on his hips, getting further annoyed. “I started right before the fire. He can—ah shit, what’s the word?” He snapped his fingers. “Corroborate! He can corroborate my estoria.” Having enough of the conversation, Mateo clapped his hands together and picked up a box, handing it over to Emilio. He thought if he was going to be questioned this close to sundown, he might as well do it while being productive.

“I’ll answer your stupid questions if you do my smart thing. Put the box where you think I should install it since you like scoping so much.”

Emilio rolled his eyes at the statement, but didn’t dignify it with a response. It was all too easy to fall into a world of doom and gloom when your life rolled out the way his had, but most people wouldn’t understand such a thing. To the stranger, it probably seemed like Emilio was dramatic. To Emilio, it just felt honest. There was no marrying the two ideas, no allowing them to coexist. And while he might normally jump at the chance to argue with someone, particularly a stranger where there would be little consequence to the fight, Emilio was tired. The bone-deep exhaustion that clung to him went a lot farther than the sleep he’d missed out on, and he couldn’t bring himself to even attempt to muster up the energy it would take to engage in this particular argument.

“You have a lot of experience with undercover cops?” He elected to ignore the wink, though he might not have a few months ago. Looking down at the boxes again, he felt that doubt creep back. He glanced up when the stranger spoke, offering a curt nod. “He was an ugly bastard,” he agreed, careful to keep his tone flat and even. Killing Frankie still weighed heavy on his shoulders, even if he’d wanted to do it. He wondered, absently, what it said about him. Did the fact that he felt bad about killing a kid speak louder than the fact that he’d still done it? Taking the box as it was thrust into his arms, Emilio grunted. “I will ask him,” he warned lowly, clearly still suspicious. With a quick glance around the area, he walked over and dropped the box where he figured the best possible vantage point was. It’d allow the camera, once placed, to see all sides of the building except the back. “Should put a second one behind the shop,” he said. “And some inside. How many of these you got?”

Mateo smirked, “Nah, undercover cops got a lot of experience with me.” He shrugged and unboxed a few items just before wrapping and buckling his tool belt. “A mug like mine, they always think I’m up to something. Then they ask for papers, and it’s all puro mierda.” The thought forced out a huff in his grimace. He was a criminal, sure, but he was never doing a crime the times he was pulled aside. Nothing can see him or touch him when he’s doing the job that keeps him full, and he never takes a job if it’s not someone who deserves it. Not much better, but he couldn’t betray the heart that his parents molded any further. He knew he’d done enough damage, but he was too happy with what he had to give it up. Nothing satisfied him more. Out of all his cousins and siblings, he was fear. Mateo was the true monster that kept them more than fed. Full. And with him gone, all he could do to give back is keep the fear to himself and do small things for others. Just like his apá taught him.

“Huh?” Too lost in thought, he had to quickly remember what was said. “Aight, cool then. Lemme know when you find out I’m right.” Mateo blinked, deciphering the jumbled mess of words in his head to finally reply. “Uh, the back is covered already. That was first. Don’t have a key for the inside, but that’ll be after this. Another day probably.” He explained as he maneuvered his ladder around and installed two of the cameras, making his way to the one Emilio set. “Got like twenty-something cameras and a whole security system. Why? You wanna buy some? Top of the line.”

The story was a familiar one, and Emilio grunted in response. He hadn’t had much issue with the cops in White Crest yet — probably because they knew he had a habit of doing their job for them — but in other places during his ‘travels,’ it had been a continuous problem. Typically, he’d cut ties and leave town the moment he noticed any cops sniffing around. Not having any papers to speak of put him in a dangerous spot, and he knew it.

“If you’re not right, I’m probably just going to stab you,” Emilio replied dryly. Even he wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not; stabbing someone without confirming that they were a threat wasn’t really his M.O., and after his experience with Frankie, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to go around stabbing other members of the cult. There was still a pit in his stomach from killing the kid, still an emptiness he didn’t think would go away. He didn’t think repeating what he’d done then with this guy now would help that any.

Although… he was also reasonably sure he wouldn’t have to find out. The more the guy spoke, the more sure Emilio was that he was being honest. The cultists were annoying, but Emilio didn’t think they were the type to dip their toe into undercover shit. It didn’t match up with anything he knew about them. Standing around making small talk and installing security cameras, asking Emilio to double check with Teddy to confirm… odds were, this guy was being honest. Emilio knew that. “Wait ‘till closer to opening for the inside, then.” When Teddy was around and Emilio could watch with a critical eye. “Fuck, no. The fuck would I do with a security system? I just want to know nobody’s gonna burn this place down again.”

Emilio’s stab comment prompted a bark of laughter, “Bro, at least take me out on a date, damn.” Mateo wouldn’t normally speak so much, but the man was making it hard not to. He was adorable with the paranoia and threats. People were often so scared of him that they steered clear of him, but Emilio was different. Pain and experience shrouded over him like a cloud that Mateo could see clearly. He knew he should feel for the man, but it was actually comedic and refreshing to have someone brazen enough to try to stand up to him. If he wasn’t busy with an important job, and maybe if Emilio was closer to his age, which he was almost sure the man wasn’t, he’d hit on him enough to get lucky, but it wasn’t the time.

Moving on to the next post, all the contents of the package were removed and Mateo expertly installed the last camera. “Hmm…” He hummed as he stepped back, choosing to ignore Emilio’s paranoia-filled comments when he wanted to admire his work. Scanning over the area, contemplated whether or not more coverage was needed. The second to last camera he’d placed was a little overkill, but after the fire, he thought it was justified. What was truly overkill were the amount of cameras he’d purchased, but that was an easy fix with the receipt he kept. Looking back at Emilio to reply, he gave him a light shrug, “I don’t know, fam. So they don’t burn down your place too? Got enemies that know where you live?”

“Nah. I’m out of your league,” Emilio replied, tone still desert dry. He didn’t mention Teddy; he wasn’t sure the florist would want him to. Emilio was a private man, and if it were him, he’d like to keep things separate. He wasn’t sure if Teddy was the same, but it seemed more… respectful to let Teddy be the one to decide if his employee knew about his boyfriend. He might not be the best at navigating social situations, but he was aware enough to make some kind of an effort at it. He liked to think that counted for something.

Watching with a critical eye as the camera was installed, Emilio nodded through the process. He didn’t understand what the man was doing, but he understood it would make Teddy’s new shop a little safer and that was what mattered. There were more cameras than were likely necessary, but Emilio figured too many were better than too few. The overkill was good for his paranoia, allowed him some sense of satisfaction that things might actually be safe here. He huffed at the man’s question, shrugging a shoulder. “They’re welcome to try.” Though he doubted they would. The cult was far more interested in Teddy than they were in him, but they seemed to need him alive for whatever they were after. Burning down Emilio’s place while Teddy was staying there wouldn’t serve them. And his other enemies probably weren’t terribly interested in it, either. Most of them seemed more compelled to engage in psychological torture than anything else. Of course, he wouldn’t go around telling any of that to a stranger. “Who says I’ve got enemies at all? Maybe I’m just the kind of guy everybody likes.”

“Right. The man that can’t take care of himself is out of my league.” Mateo’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and his eyes rolled with confidence. His father taught him the importance of presentation, and he always did well to mind the lessons he was given. Even if both of his parents disapproved of all the tattoos. It was a new world, and skin had always been a canvas. The proof is in the history books. But yet, as all things did, those social norms changed, and Mateo always thought it was for the worst.

Listening, Mateo laughed yet again, air puffing through his nose quietly. Emilio seemed like all he wanted was to be bullied. The mara couldn’t help but comply, finding too much amusement in the banter. Maybe talking wasn’t so bad. “Mira, you’re making this way too easy, so I’m just gonna keep my mouth shut. Prefer it that way anyway.” He made his way to his truck and threw a few boxes back in, pulling out a few boxes to examine. His job was pretty much done, but as someone detail oriented, Mateo had to give everything one last look. Only problem was, the sun was pretty much set, and the lampposts switched on. With a grumble, he quickly grabbed his shades from the console before climbing the ladder and beginning his final check. Questions were sure to come up, but he was needed to get his job done correctly.

“I can take care of myself just fine,” Emilio replied, a little offended by the observation. He knew he looked a little rough lately but, fuck, who could blame him? Between Levi, Hekakleidi, and the cult bullshit, he had three demons he was struggling with. Add to that Silas’s death, Ari’s guilt demon, Teddy’s disappearance and fishy reappearance, the deal with Regan, and the standard White Crest flavor of bullshit, and Emilio liked to think he had plenty of reasons for the bags under his eyes. Anybody in his position would look the same. Or, more likely, worse. The way he saw it, he was doing better than anyone could have expected of him.

But, of course, this stranger knew none of that. Emilio could hardly blame the guy for jumping to conclusions, he guessed. Had he not been Teddy’s employee, had the Spanish words sprinkled in with the English not served to settle Emilio’s mind a little, he might have felt differently. But… The guy seemed all right. And Teddy evidently trusted him enough to give him the new shop’s address, so Emilio figured he’d give him a chance. Even if Teddy did have historically shitty taste in people. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I figure most people prefer it when your mouth’s shut.” There was no heat to the words, and the faint smile on his face made it clear that it was only a joke, anyway.

He watched as the man retrieved a pair of sunglasses from his car, brows shooting up. “Light sensitivity?” In this town, it tended to point in a few different directions. Emilio knew the guy wasn’t a vampire — and thank God for that, or he would have had to convince Teddy to fire him — but he was probably something. The streetlights were too dim to bother most humans’ eyes, after all.

Mateo gave a single chuckle and kept quiet. Work was done best in quiet. Particularly delicate work like security. Whatever Emilio had to say could easily be dismissed for that reason. For the most part, it worked and Mateo was able to go through his checklist for a second, and then a third time. His needs were met, which meant so were Teddy’s. And that meant his job was done. Perfectly. All there was to do was leave without Emilio noticing or asking too many questions. That didn’t seem likely given that he was brimming with paranoia and already analyzing too much.

“Photophobia is a bitch. Too sensitive and it’s annoying.” Shrugging nonchalantly in an attempt to seem unfazed. Mateo rounded his truck and removed his belt, jumping in quickly to turn the engine over. He’d had enough of the interaction and being discovered was not part of his checklist. “Nice meeting you, security guard man. I gotta head out.” He shifted the gear in preparation, being respectful enough to wait for a response.

The guy preferred to work in silence, and Emilio understood that. He was the same when he was working, on stakeouts and pouring over information for a case. That didn’t mean he liked missing out on getting more information out of the stranger. He watched him with a critical eye, as if he’d be able to gather from his movements alone what he was and what his endgame might be here. It was, of course, a pretty useless endeavor; not even a phenomenal detective would be able to piece together details like that without something more to go off of. Emilio, at least, had enough of a leg up with his hunter senses to know that the man wasn’t undead, but beyond that? He could have been anything.

“Photophobia,” he repeated, not bothering to hide the suspicion in his tone, “right.” Would Teddy know what the guy was? It was unlikely. Teddy was always a little too trusting, so eager for companionship that he often forgot to make sure said companionship was safe. It was something Emilio worried about often, something that ate him up inside more than he’d admit to. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around. Probably be around the shop a lot. To hang out with Teddy.” The way he said it, it was clear that it wasn’t not a threat.

Licking his lips, Mateo gave Emilio a small salute and a knowing smile. There was no lightening the suspicion, and he had a feeling that even if he wasn’t a dangerous man, Emilio wouldn’t let up. He’d have to do some digging himself, it seemed. “See ya, chavo.” The engine grew louder as Mateo added weight to the gas pedal, watching the man grow smaller in his rearview mirror. It wasn’t the last he’d see of him. Perhaps they’d meet again in a dream.

#wickedswriting #nightmarescapes #writings #insecure #mateo and emilio

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the196thbattalion · 5 years ago

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star wars human! high school! au

i’ve seen so many headcanons circling throughout the star wars tumblr about high school au’s, so i wanted to share my bit with all of you :D

anakin skywalker

five words: REBEL CHILD ON A MOTORCYCLE.

he doesn’t like riding the school bus because it makes him feel extremely claustrophobic, so he scrapped and scavenged up parts to make his own customized motorcycle, which he lovingly dubbed artoo.

the blue and silver detailing was the joint effort of ahsoka and obi-wan, because anakin doesn’t know how to paint.

if he can catch up to the bus, he’ll ride alongside it and flip off the students on it before revving on ahead of them. (the freshmen think it’s the funniest thing in the universe)

probably one of the most well-known juniors in the entirety of temple high school (mostly because of his shenanigans but partly because he’s dating padme fuckiNG AMIDALA, PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE DAMN SCHOOL)

he always wears this worn-down leather jacket his mom gave to him before she passed away, and refuses to take it off, even though it’s somehow “a violation of the dress code and should be outlawed.”

his hair alone has seduced eight different students (boys and girls)

sometimes during study hall, ahsoka or padme will get a hold of his hair and style it into little braids or make a super rad ponytail.

he really likes iced coffee with milk and sugar. he puts in the milk to make it nice and light (it’s aesthetically pleasing, obi-wan!), and then like eight tablespoons of sugar to make it actually taste good.

his favorite class is mechanics, taught by kit fisto.

anakin spent months on a mechanical arm project to replace his clunky plastic prosthetic, and he was so freaking happy when it was finished; he almost cried. (he did cry and ahsoka got it on video)

obi-wan kenobi

a mixture of the soft™, pretty™, hippie™, grunge™, vsco™ and nerd™ tropes.

he really likes peppermint tea with lots of honey but takes his coffee black.

he has had too much tea.

someone needs to stop him.

almost all of his classes are ap courses, and if cody hadn’t been watching when obi-wan was making his schedule, all of them would be.

him, cody and padme have ap english with mace windu, and cody knows how much his classes stress him out, so he lets obi-wan sleep during class and sends him the notes

the only ap class obi-wan doesn’t take is mechanics, and he shares that class with anakin.

anakin and obi-wan are super close with each other. kenobi was there when ahsoka was adopted, and anakin was there when kenobi got his cat. (they were like 5 okay)

“NAME IT C3PO OBI-WAN, OR I SWEAR TO FUCK-” “what kind of name is that, and why would i - anAKIN PUT HIM DOWN!?”.

mr. fisto constantly has to split them up for disrupting the class, but it’s almost like they can communicate telepathically, and the teachers have a running bet

mace windu literally bet $50 on these fucking nerds so you know it’s for realsies

in reality, they’ve just gotten super creative with passing notes.

kind of off topic, but he has these brown harry potter glasses that he uses (kinda for reading???? but mostly so he can do that anime pushing up glasses thing)

cody thinks it’s the funniest shit ever

whenever cody is feeling stressed, obi-wan just does the thing™ and BOOM! happiness.

people think he’s a goodie two shoes, and honestly, it’s really easy to think that. if the iconics are trying to do something stupid, he’s usually the voice of reason.

but parties?

…

you know what, just ask anakin for the video footage.

ahsoka tano

this hs!au ahsoka tano turned me bisexual confirmed ✔

okay before i go into her style, which is mainly what made me drool over my computer, can i just put skatergirl!ahsoka out there?

spray painting of the rebellion symbol all over the bottom of her board and on items in a couple of the places where she skates the most (like the back of an abandoned car yard)

her instagram is filled with these super cool vhs-tape recorded skate videos (u know)

lots crackhead 3am visits (starring anakin, rex, kenobi and barris) to a gas station to get slushies and grind the shit out of the curb connecting the store to the parking lot

trying to teach anakin how to skateboard but he just can’t figure it out? uh yes

“try to balance skyguy!” “HOW DO I MOVE? DO I SCOOT? SNIPS THIS ISN’T FUNNY AND I WANT TO GET OFF – GUYS, STOP LAUGHING!”

okay okay okay i’m done

for now

anyway, her style???? is so???? fucking????? cool!!!!!

her genetics gave her a 80% of having vitiligo, so it really wasn’t a surprise when patches of her skin got lighter, but it still freaked her out a little bit.

basically, went like this: “DAD, I’M TURNING WHITE!” “???? oh my gosh ‘soka, no.”

she has long braided dreadlocks she dyed a super bright orange with various colored beads woven into them with the help of anakin and padme. she usually styles them into little space buns atop her head.

her entire clothing wardrobe consists of fishnets, neon bomber jackets, at least 11 bisexual beanies™, handmade patchy jeans, white tank tops, and light-up platform shoes.

she doesn’t give two flying fucks about the dress code, and – IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOST BUSY HALLWAY - punched principal sidious over whether or not she “could wear shorts that short” (anakin may or may not have cheered when she broke his nose).

the fetts (chuck have mercy)

*cracks le knuckles* i’ve put it off long enough

we have: fox (24), wolffe (19), cody (17), rex (17), echo (16), fives (16), boil (15), waxer (14), hardcase (13), jesse (12), longshot (8), kix (6), tup (3), gree (2) and boba (9mo)

wolffe is off at college - fox already graduated and moved out, that cheeky little fucking shit - but both still keep in good contact with the fam, and it’s a constant clamor between eleven of the siblings of who gets to talk to them first

fox majored in government/politics, bly is majoring in space/astronomy, and wolffe is majoring in police/law enforcement shit (i don’t know how college works, so sue me)

cody and rex are juniors, and despite their similar looks, the amount of schoolwork each of them completes drastically varies

cody is the honor roll student, valedictorian, whatever you want to call it

rex kinda just either does the work really well or 9/10 times gets distracted by anakin or ahsoka sending him some nice spicy memes

cody tried to tutor rex but it ended up almost landing tup in the hospital

“that’s really simple, actually. if you – vod? rex, are you okay? what are you oH NO TUP DON’T PUT THAT IN YOUR MOUTH-”

fetts on the varsity football team is like a right of passage in the family

right now, only the juniors of the fett family are on the team, but the coach has eyes on fives and echo for next years team

SPEAKING OF

echo, fives and boil are the infamous sophomore trio that pulled the milk bucket prank on the gym teacher, pong krell.

they had to help the janitor (99) clean up afterwards, but they genuinely enjoyed 99’s company, because he’s rad as shit and knows all the secret school passageways.

to be honest, not one person (except maybe sidious) was complaining

that motherfucker makes everyone run like eight laps during gym class

even mr. windu gives them a small smile in the hallways after that

boil says he was blackmailed into it

waxer is a freshman (the poor dude, i’m so sorry), and he always looks out for the nervous freshies

if someone is having a bad day, he’ll give them a lollipop (he carries around a whole bag), a place to sit during lunch, and a shoulder to cry on

all you need to do to find waxer is to locate this long ass line of children

the school counselor, plo koon, sometimes brings his niece numa into school during the day because he can’t find a babysitter, and waxer. fucking. loves. her. PERIOD.

w+n pull these tiny little pranks on teachers, and the staff pretends not to notice, but numa always giggles and gives them away.

boil has a soft spot for numa too, and sneaks her rice krispies.

bonus shit i want to add in but can’t figure out where to put it (or i’m just gonna add it on and shit)

plo koon adopted anakin after his mother died (him and anakin’s mother were good friends), and found ahsoka on the side of the street, shivering like a maniac.

he doesn’t know where ahsoka came from, but he loves her so gOD DAMN MUCH.

he’s the school counselor, and still keeps in touch with a lot of students even after the graduated (he thinks that majoring in law enforcement/police is a bit dangerous for wolffe but he still supports his unofficial but basically son 100%)

yoda is the super old but radically rad english teacher.

his entire point of existence in my mind fic is to troll the shit out of palpatine.

a recent conversation starring yoda and palps: “did you give the students the mountain of extra work i assigned them?” “for the students, that was?” i’m sorry. my bad, that is.” “this is the seventh time, yoda.”

okay but for real

mace windu violently roots for the school football team.

“BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM, CODY! YOU TOO...OTHER CODY!”

“THAT’S A HOLDING! THAT’S A HOLDING!”

“REF IF YOU DON’T COUNT THAT TOUCHDOWN THEN I SWEAR TO SAMUEL L. JACKSON I WILL COME DOWN THERE AND BEAT YOUR SORRY PINSTRIPED ASS!”

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hadtochangemyurlquick · 4 years ago

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i saw in your bio your pronouns are “she/her probs” if you wouldn’t mind could you elaborate on that? you 100% don’t have to bc at the end of the day it’s none of my business but i’ve been thinking a lot about my own gender identity recently and your pronouns caught my eye

okay so basically, when i was born the doctor wasn’t there, he was helping out the teenage girl next door, and my mom had done it a bunch of times already so it was kinda no big deal? so there was no one there to be like “it’s a girl!” and i’ve been chasing that high ever since.

i was the youngest of too many, growing up on street with only little boys and my parents were never home so we’d basically be out and about until like 11pm trying to decide which god from the greek mythos was our secret parent and never once was i a girl with them we just didn’t have gender it didn’t exist

my two older sisters were extremely close whereas my two older brothers were hated each other and I was close with both of them individually so i never interacted with my sisters bc they were always hanging out together

when i started being a woman in middle school (my mom said I had to :/ ) i didn’t do it right and the first question i got asked was “are you a boy or are you a lesbian?”

i was so obsessed with looking like my older brother i kept my hair super super long and to this day he hasn’t cut it he keeps it in a man bun but i cut mine short directly after high school so i could go to an hwc like the fucking lesbian i am

the first girl i dated had four fingers in total on both her hands, not counting thumbs, and we fell in love play wrestling and like, physically rough housing, like i had with the little boys on my street growing up. she plays the viola to this day i think

when i first saw my now ex-boyfriend my first thought was, he’s either a lesbian or he’s trans, and to this day he’s identified as every label on the lgbtqa spectrum which is funny to me

i like the way i look in a binder but maybe that’s just cause i hate my body and want to punish it?

growing up i played a bunch of sports bc the commutes were the only guaranteed time alone i had with my dad and it was on a softball field in sixth grade that i realized i was a lesbian while looking at the short stop. her sister was a lesbian but the girl i liked was very straight :/

every dress i buy makes me look like an ethereal woodland goddess except for the one i bought that makes me look like a witch, and i look objectively gorgeous in them all except i dont wanna be pretty i want girls to jump out of their boots when they see me so i can catch them in my big strong arms and carry them home

once this kid i had a crush on and i watched the carmilla movie together. they were dating someone and i was pretty sure i was in love with them and when the sex scene came on i did not kiss them which i am both proud of and deeply regret

we also watched the miseducation of cameron post together with similar results

my grandfather carried around a pocket knife around with him everywhere bc he wanted to be useful, i carry around a backpack with a playing deck, a phone charger, a portable charger, a charger for my portable charger, a bar, bandaids, hand sanitizer, pen, pencil, notepad, pencil sharpener, a candle, a flashlight, a compass, matches, a book, lip stuff, pads, tampons, advil, neosporin, and a knife.

my dad has a big leather jacket i steal from him constantly and it’s big and brown and i keep an acorn in the pocket of it like i’m a stardew valley character who might need a nature snack. it’s very good for hiding in and definitely conceals my body

whenever i go shopping with my sisters they always try and dress me up as femininely as possible, despite neither of them being feminine in the slightest. whenever i go shopping with my brother i always empty my wallet. so i dont go shopping.

once i explained this problem to a close friend and he dropped off four shirts and those are pretty much the only thing i wear now. i found one pair of jeans that fit and i just wash those when they get dirty and hope low rise comes back into fashion eventually cause high rise hurts my belly

over time my friend group and family (extended family) has become increasingly trans allowing me to explore my gender for what it is, i don’t feel as though i always need to present anything bc often they’re too tired or in chronic pain to present anything either. in truth, my name is not gus, but it’s one i’m considering going by offline and that a few friends call me. i have warned my fam that i might change my name and pronouns and they were all like :/// okay sweetie, but not they/them okay? the grammar would be a nightmare which like. i’ll take it. they accepted me being a theater kid when i thought i was a theater kid, i’ll give ‘em a break on this one

this snl sketch is a very good thing that was made, my sister is one of those women at the beginning, she’s extremely fashion minded and so smart and aesthetic. the line ‘as a child you were humiliated in a kohls fitting room where your mother said something so harmful it seared off the top layer of your brain”

it was actually my mother’s room where i had been called fat one too many times by my brother and went to her and asked if i was. she said i could stand to lose a few.

my mother really struggled to lose her own baby weight as she had me late in life and with so many kids financial woes didn’t really ease out until i was maybe 7? 8? i didn’t realize at the time but she was looking at her reflection in one of the big mirrors she had in her room and even if she was talking to me she wasn’t talking to me, you know?

my mom did eventually lose the weight and got really in shape, like insanely in shape, she can now outrun god and dead lift satan on the days where her knee isn’t bothering her.

what else what else.

this poem:

“the tomboy grew up and she never went tame and she never found boys or makeup or nothing – nothing wrong with the girls who did but also it’s not inevitable, this progression womanhood rejected you, because where are the grownup tomboys? there’s no room for the rough-and-tumble girls to become rough-and-tumble foulmouthed broad-shouldered women. it’s alright to play at, daughter, they told you, but you have to grow up, and you were confused because you were playing at nothing the tomboy grew up, nonetheless. and instead of wrestling with friends she wrestled with herself for a while. but despite what they said, here she is, still rough, still wild. don’t believe the lies, daughter. grow as you need to. allow yourself to be pruned only to become stronger. grow bold and proud, daughter, like the trees that give you shelter, tomboy, wild girl. love the girls you dream of being strong for and the friends who bear you up when the storms shake your roots. there is value in the crabapple trees, wild daughter, even if the orchard-keeper turns up his nose. know this always, daughter: i love you exactly as you are, and however you need to be” by @sailorshadow

for julia in nebraska by addrienne rich

my friend got me that shirt during quarantine and i got the haircut a few weeks later

on the subject of rita mae brown who wrote ruby fruit jungle, i read the book while overseas in two days, didn’t look up the entire time, and was one of the first gay books i read. one of the things i loved about it was how the speaker was so unapologetically herself. how it ends on a note of bitter strength and triumphant defeat. i reread it while in georgia last year and found i had outgrown it. you might find some comfort in it, idk, just watch out bc there is some terf stuff in it? it aint perfect so just keep an eye out for that, it doesn’t ruin the book i don’t think, there’s other good stuff in it.

here’s some pictures of men:

growing up i was also surrounded by picture books, my grandmother was a children’s book librarian, and here are a couple of important figures:

then how to catch an elephant by amy schwartz but in particular this page:

and i’m sure i’m forgetting things but here’s my gender euphoria playlist:

i’m sure there’s stuff i’m not thinking of but i think that’s the gist of it? if you have any questions feel free to ask

ope! i almost forgot a couple of other important things:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hq27hcPTzDo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENxbcvUXfnM

hope this helps you on your journey!!!!!!

#gus answers #about me #rec me songs if you have any that have helped you!!!!!

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Galactica, Chapter 55 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Thanksgiving went on for 17 million years. (AKA 5 Chapters) We laughed, we cried (did we cry? I don’t think we cried – except for Adore maybe), we fucked on some stairs until our knees gave out...

This Chapter: Pearl makes a getaway, Raven carbs up, and Violet returns to work with help from a very special assistant.

***

“Pearl! Pearl, wake up!”

Pearl stirred, a hand shaking her, and opened her eyes. Fame was leaning over her, a sleep mask pushed up on her forehead, a frantic expression in her eyes.

It had been a long night. When Pearl arrived at the townhouse, they’d at down and had a long heart to heart, Pearl tearfully confessing the whole sordid tale of her and Adore over tea and leftover cranberry apple crisp, Fame even going the extra mile and topping it with an uncharacteristic scoop of ice cream--she must really have seemed pathetic. Pearl told her everything, and while Fame was understanding, she didn’t hold back or let her off the hook either, pointing out where she thought she’d fucked up, how she could have done better, and why Adore was justified in her hurt and anger. It was difficult to hear at times, but Pearl appreciated her honesty. Most of all, she appreciated that Fame stayed to listen, giving her the space to talk it out, sometimes resting a hand on her thigh just to let her know that she was still there.

After that, cried out and emotionally exhausted, they’d climbed into Fame’s bed to snuggle and watch TV, Pearl’s eyelids soon drooping heavily. When Patrick got home, Pearl had offered to leave, of course, but he saw how tired she was and insisted she stay, Fame sleeping in the middle of the bed.

Now, it was morning and Fame was apparently in a tizzy over something. Pearl rubbed her eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“The chef’s idiot assistant let in my in-laws without asking. I have no idea why they’re here so early, we clearly said brunch was at noon!” Fame fretted, Patrick buttoning his shirt in the background.

Pearl tried to catch up. “The chef?”

“Oh my god, what are we going to do?!” Fame explained, hands pressed to her cheeks.

“She could go out the window…” Patrick joked.

“Yes!” Fame turned back to Pearl. “Get dressed, you’re going out the window.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Pearl asked. “That’s dangerous!”

“Use the trellis!”

“Darling, I was kidding,” Patrick said gently.

“Well, I’m not!” Fame snapped her fingers. “Where are her pants?”

Patrick handed over Pearl’s skinny jeans, shaking his head. “Can’t we just say that one of your employees came for an early meeting?”

“Oh yeah Patrick, an early meeting on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Here in our bedroom. Sounds totally respectable. I can’t believe this, we’re never using chef John again! Pearl, hurry up.” She got up and walked to the window that overlooked the backyard, unlocking it and opening it wide.

“Was he supposed to let them just wait on the front stoop?”

“Patrick,” Fame said sternly, in that tone that told them both that she was not fucking around. “If you’re not going to offer any other solutions, you can just go downstairs and entertain your stupid family.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide,” Patrick said as he walked to the door. “And Pearl, godspeed. Try to avoid the rose bushes if you fall.”

“So, is this your way of telling me that I’m not staying for brunch with the fam?” Pearl asked, putting on her jacket and slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder.

“Pearl.” That same tone again, entirely unamused.

Pearl stepped up to her at the window, looking out. The good news was, there was a high cement wall that would likely break her fall before the ground. Worst case scenario, she’d break a bone...or two.

“This is the first time I’ve done anything like this since high school,” she giggled, then reached out and touched Fame’s hand. “Thanks for last night.”

“Of course,” Fame replied, softening for a moment, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on the mouth. “Anytime.”

“Anytime except right now, you mean?”

“Exactly,” Fame said, helping her climb onto the window ledge and over to the trellis. “Once you get down to the garden, make sure to go around that way,” she pointed, “And duck when you pass the windows.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

***

“Now,” Juju took the dinosaur tray from the counter, handing it to her son, his pancakes carefully cut up, “take it slow when-” Juju was cut off as Owen grabbed the tray, practically spinning around in his haste to make it back to the family room. “Hey! I said take it slow young man!”

It was a Sanderson family tradition to spend the Saturday after Thanksgiving with pajamas, pancakes and TV, and even though Kelly had gotten too old to join, their teenager leaving the house almost as soon as they had made it back from Boston, Juju knew with absolute certainty that she’d find a toddler under each of her husband's arms, time with dad something the twins valued above anything else.

“They grow up so fast.” Raven smiled, her best friend sitting at the kitchen counter in a set of soft pink silk pajamas, twirling a bit of hair around her finger.

“Don’t even say it,” Juju sighed, cutting up the last of the fruit so she could make Raven a plate too. “It feels like we just left the hospital.”

“You’ll have another little one soon.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Juju smirked, and Raven laughed, taking the offered assortment of fruit that Juju handed her, but then, something crazy happened. Raven grabbed two pancakes too, putting them on her plate.

“Hey girly, what’re you doing?” Juju didn’t normally care about Raven’s diets--actually, she tried not to be involved in them at all whenever she could, but she had already spotted her best friend putting creamer in her coffee. Juju worked in fashion as well, several houses and magazines using her on shoots, but she didn’t think she’d ever really understand the sacrifices models went through. Sure, it was part of their job to go to the gym, but she didn’t think she’d ever be able to do it, even though Raja had made it seem effortlessly easy when she had been in her prime. “I know Sutan isn’t here, but I don’t believe the warden has relaxed the rules that much.”

“Well.” Raven looked uncharacteristically insecure for a moment, crossing her arms. “I’ve decided I’m done doing swimwear.”

“Oh?” Juju knew Raven had campaigns coming up in December, her friend complaining about it the last time they saw each other.

“Yes.” Raven nodded. “I’m done. It’s not worth the money, when it’s killing me to stay in runway shape year round.”

“Okay.” Juju nodded, sort of understanding where Raven was coming from. When she wasn’t walking fashion weeks where everyone had to fit sample sizes, the industry loved her curves, Raven smoking hot when she allowed herself to get to a size 4 or even a 6, which was a much more accurate representation of what her body actually looked like. “And Tan is cool with it?”

Somehow, it worked for Raven to have her fiancée’s brother as a manager, but Juju knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would have killed Detox if he ever tried to make decisions on her career, even the idea of Raja, Fame, heck, even Bianca moving in on her turf making her genuinely uncomfortable.

“I…” Raven clicked her tongue. “Might not have told him yet.”

***

“Urgh,” Sutan groaned as he flopped on the couch, face first, a white t-shirt clinging to his chest. “Fuck.”

“Hello,” Violet was biting her lip in an effort not to smile, her boyfriend absolutely exhausted, his duffle bag thrown somewhere on the floor. “Did you have a nice time at the gym?”

They had been in the middle of breakfast, Violet making her way through a coconut yogurt when Sutan had gotten a call, his eyes widening to an almost comical size when he recognized the number, the horror on his face telling the clear story of how he had completely forgotten.

“My trainer is an absolute sadist.”

“Mmh?” Violet had never seen him move so fast, Sutan drowning his coffee in one big gulp, barely pressing a kiss against her temple before he had rushed out the door, grabbing what was apparently an emergency gym bag from the hallway closet.

“He made me do 25 extra sets of everything for being late. Can you believe I’m paying someone to torture me?” Sutan toed his shoes off, winching at the movement as he got on his back, putting his head on her thigh, his hair still slightly damp. “I thought I was going to die.”

Violet had wondered why Sutan had never let her be around when he went to the gym, the man only going on nights or mornings when they weren’t spending time together.

Now, it seemed like she had her answer.

“Poor you.” Violet smiled, running her fingers over his forehead, the TV playing quietly in the background.

“I know you don’t mean that,” Sutan looked up at her, “but I’ll take it.”

“You know,” Violet bit her lip not to yawn, the smallest of efforts almost taking her out, putting their breakfast away and getting to the couch feeling like enormous tasks. “I’m going to be so jealous once I’m off my pain killers.”

Violet tried not to think too hard about what a broken bone actually meant, not being able to run or even do yoga to manage her emotions a complete nightmare.

“Seriously?” Sutan lifted an eyebrow, and Violet ran a finger over it. “When I was 23, you couldn’t force me to go to the gym.” Sutan smiled. “Not that Raja’s model diet made it necessary.”

“You were on a model diet?”

“Beat having to cook for myself.” Sutan grinned, and Violet could totally imagine it, the Amrull twins chugging their way through green smoothies side by side.

“How long did you actually live with Raja?”

“Literal decades,” Sutan snorted. “God I’m ancient.”

“I like to think of you as finely aged wine.”

“HA!” Sutan laughed, and Violet couldn’t help but smile. She loved watching him laugh, loved seeing his face scrunch up with happiness. “For that lovely eyes,” Sutan pointed up at her. “You get to stay another week.”

“Oh…” Violet paused, “I, umh, I didn’t…” She had felt so happy just moments before, but now, she could feel the uncertainty crawl up her spine. “We never actually talked about… You don’t have to do-”

It wasn’t like her at all, but Violet had simply not considered the week to come, hadn’t even thought about where she would be staying, what she would be wearing, what she’d be doing with herself beyond believing Sutan when he said he’d get her to work Monday.

“Violet.” Sutan reached up, grabbing her neck, his fingers easily holding her. “You live on the 5th floor with no elevator.”

“And I appreciate your help, but I’d never want to-”

“You’re staying here. No argument. I’d be a terrible boyfriend, fuck, I’d be a terrible friend, if I wasn’t cool with you staying here.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Sutan nodded. “Besides,” He pulled on Violet’s neck, forcing her down so he could press a kiss against her lips. “I like having you around.”

Sutan smirked, and Violet couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks.”

***

“Where do you think you’re going?” Katya was whispering as she looked over at her fiancé. She and Trixie were in the movies, Annabelle playing on the screen.

“I have to pee, I had an extra large soda.”

Katya placed her hand on Trixie’s chest, pushing him down into the seat, keeping him in place. “No.”

“What?!” Trixie hissed.

“I said no.”

And in that moment Trixie saw how Katya was smiling, and he felt a surge of arousal go through him.

“Okay…”

Trixie leaned back in his chair, Katya’s hand on his chest ending up on his stomach where it rested, keeping him in place.

Trixie couldn’t help but squirm, arousal and the need to pee getting mixed up in his head, a heavy sensation settling over his entire body, his fingers drumming on the seat, restless energy filling him as the movie continued.

“Katya, please…” Tixie hissed, the stupid movie not even halfway done. “I’m about to explode.”

“No.”

Katya smiled, picking up her drink, her lips closing around the straw as she oh so slowly drank the rest of her own small soda, the sound causing chills to run over Trixie’s spine.

Katya held him in seat through the credits, and Trixie had tears in his eyes, he had to pee so badly, but Katya had told him he couldn’t, so he wouldn’t, because he was her good boy.

The very last name ran over the screen, and Katya removed her hand, Trixie shooting up from his seat, his jacket and even his bag forgotten as he ran to the bathroom, a sense of euphoria rushing over him as he could finally, finally, finally pee, his entire body shivering in delight.

***

When Bob heard the design floor door open, he instantly perked up, whirling around in his chair.

“Well well well!” he exclaimed, yelling out to the floor, his oversized coffee mug in hand, a pencil tucked behind her ear. “Look who’s back!”

“Hi everyone,” Violet came through the door, a happy but unsure smile on her face. It was clear that she wanted to wave, but she was stuck with her crutches, a bulgy cast on her ankle.

Violet looked over her shoulder, and Bob felt his eyes bulge out as none other than silver fox of the year, Sutan Amrull, came through the door in an impeccable suit, Violet’s purse and what had to be both of their jackets on his arm.

“I knew it!” Bob cried out, slapping his desk with his hand. “I knew those two were dating! No lipstick my ass!”

He looked around triumphantly, everyone's attention now divided between Bob and the pair at the door, Sutan looking on with a raised eyebrow and a smile on his lips, while Violet seemed like she was wishing that the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

“Good work, Sherlock.” Jovan drawled, his head in his hand as he was sitting backwards on his chair. “How’d you figure that one out?”

“Well you see-” Bob grinned, just about to go on a tangent, when he was cut off by his boyfriend, Maxwell leaning against his desk.

“I literally told you they were dating a fucking week ago.”

“Right.” Bob huffed. “But you’re always wrong about this stuff.”

Sure. Max had told him that about the whole Violet falling thing, the drama with Aiden the talk of the department, but he hadn’t actually believed it when Max had said he had seen Sutan Amrull press a kiss against Violet’s temple, the two of them apparently leaving together.

“Are your coworkers always this much fun?”

Bob’s head whipped at the sound of Sutan’s voice, the man smiling as he looked down at Violet, one of his hands in his suit pocket.

“Don’t answer that Chachki!” Jovan yelled out, making everyone laugh. “Just come on over here!”

Violet looked extremely relieved to be called for, and Sutan followed behind her as she swung herself across the room on her crutches-- No hobbling for that bitch.

“Man, look at you go!” Bob grinned, walking over to Jovan and Violet’s desks, his own work completely abandoned. “It’s like you’ve been using those things all your life!”

“Thanks Bob,” Violet replied drily, even though she was smiling. She looked a lot better than he expected, her hair and makeup done to her usual perfect standards, curls cascading down her back. She was wearing a long sleeved black dress with a high-waisted skirt, and even a heel on her good foot, Violet Chachki as always picture perfect.

“I cannot believe you’re wearing heels with crutches. You’re an icon, and we should all aspire to your standards.”

“You’d fail.”

“Ha!” Jovan snorted, the man giving Violet’s shoulder a quick squeeze before he returned to his computer.

“Besides.” Violet pulled out her chair, sitting down with as much grace as she could muster, shaking her head disdainfully. “It’s only 2 inches.”

“I promise you,” Sutan smiled, putting Violet’s bag down on the table. “I tried to tell her it was a terrible idea.”

“Good to know.” Bob bit his cheek not to give too much away, but on the inside, he was dancing with delight at all the delicious gossip he was gobbling up. “Hi, Bob Caldwell.” Bob held his hand out, nearly shrinking on the inside when Sutan took it. “Design Project Manager.”

“Sutan Amrull,” Sutan smiled, shaking it firmly. “Elite Model Management, though around here I’m probably better known as Raja’s brother. I assume you know her very well.”

“We sure do.” If Bob was honest, he had forgotten that Maxwell had followed him over, but what he wouldn’t forget was the ridiculous grin on his boyfriend's face as he shook hands with Sutan. “I’m Maxwell Heller. Designer.”

“I’m familiar with your work.” Sutan grinned, pulling back to take a seat on the edge of Violet’s desk and Bob wiggled his eyebrows at Max, who nudged his elbow into his side.

“What do you have there, lovely eyes?”

Bob’s eyes widened in delight as Violet looked up like she had fully forgotten they were all still there, her embroidery frame already in hand, the massive skirt she was working on tethered to it.

“The dress.” Violet smiled, the worry Bob had seen on her face when she first walked in all gone now that her work was safely back in her hands. “The couture one.”

“This is your couture dress? Let me see.” Sutan reached into his jacket pocket, taking out a pair of glasses that he quickly slipped on before he carefully picked at the skirt, taking a section that was already done, examining the work. “This is very impressive.”

“Did you hear she’s closing the Spring runway?” Bob grinned, the morning only getting better and better.

“Well,” Sutan pushed his glasses into his hair, a big smile on his face, “with a gown like this, how could she not?”

“And that’s enough for you!” Violet reached out, her cheeks pink as she took the dress from his hands, her tone stern even though she was smiling. “Thank you for fulfilling your duties as a full time boyfriend by carrying my stuff. You can leave now.”

“Boyfriend?” Maxwell squeaked, and this time, it was Bob’s turn to nudge him.

“Am I a little too old for that title?” Sutan smirked, looking between them.

“Well,” Violet interjected, her tone completely dry. “You can be my man friend if you’d prefer?”

“Ha!” Sutan snorted, a grin on his face. “And I think that’s my cue to go. I’ll text you.” He leaned over the desk, giving Violet a quick peck on the lips before standing up, shaking hands with Max and Bob and waving to Jovan as he grabbed his jacket and left.

“Damn Chachki,” Bob watched as Sutan left, his arms crossed over his chest. “We gotta hand it to you. That is one sexy fucking man.”

“Umh…” Violet paused, looking up at them, her embroidery needle already in hand. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

***

“Morning, Jackie!” Sutan waved, stopping in the assistant bullpen to check if he had gotten any physical mail. Jackie was a new girl, had originally only started out as a temp, but she had done a shockingly good job, so Elite had officially hired her a few weeks ago.

Sutan didn’t have his own personal assistant, and had never had one even though he was sure Tamisha would give him one if he asked.

“How was your Thanksgiving?”

“Great, thanks.” Jackie smiled, her brown bang swept across her forehead. She was wearing a green and yellow sweater, her nails painted in a deep orange.

Sutan loved Jackie's style, the woman always dressed like she was living in the 60s, but his favorite thing was that she was cool, calm and collected under pressure, and unlike the baby temps, she was a woman in her late 30s who hadn’t just taken the job in the hopes of becoming a model.

“Also,” Jackie lowered her voice, leaning over the desk. “Ms. Petruschin is waiting for you in your office.”

“Hmm?” Sutan raised an eyebrow. He had an open door policy, and everyone was always welcome, but usually, they were welcome when he was actually there. He hadn’t stopped for coffee after dropping Violet off at work, and now, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake.

“She didn’t want to wait at reception, so I let her in.”

“Ah.” Sutan nodded. That sounded just about right for Raven. “Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.”

Sutan walked over to his office, not even trying his key in the door since he knew it’d be unlocked.

“Raven!” Sutan put on his best game face, his voice light and happy. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”

Raven looked up from where she was sitting-- not sprawled on the couch where she’d normally be, but at a chair in front of his desk, spine ramrod straight, her Birkin carefully placed on the floor.

“... Everything okay?” Sutan shut the door behind him, quickly flicking the lock. Normally when he had his models come by, he’d take a seat behind his desk, but today, that didn’t seem like the right option, so instead, he sat on the corner of the table, looking down at his sister in law. “Raven?”

“I,” Raven bit her lip, her white teeth sinking into it. “I have something to tell you.”

“Okay?” Sutan kept his voice level, doing everything he could not to let his worry show on his face. The last time Raven had come to him like this, it had been with an absolute disaster involving several talks with a lawyer, but Raja hadn’t said anything, hadn’t given him any hints or sent a single text, so it couldn’t be that bad.

“So,” Raven took a deep breath, lifting her chin as she looked directly at him. “I don’t want to do swimwear anymore.”

“.... Okay?”

“It’s not worth it, and I hate it.”

Out of everything Sutan had dreaded. Of all the things that had flashed through his mind. This was not what he had expected at all.

“Well, that’s not a problem.”

“You’re not mad?” Raven’s eyes widened, surprise and anxiety painted on her beautiful face.

It was clear that Raven had expected him to be disappointed, or even upset, and Sutan couldn’t help but remember the inexperienced young girl he’d signed at only 17 years old.

It had been a long time since he’d been reminded of that, the Raven of today much more likely to slam a door or yell in his face, but the tough act had always been and would always be a facade to hide her obvious vulnerability.

Other agents had sometimes asked how he dealt with her, how he could remain calm in the storm of Raven’s emotions, but he had always felt responsible for her well being, and had always felt protective of her.

“Raven.” Sutan crossed his arms. “It’s your career. Your body. Your decisions. How I feel, and how the brand feels doesn’t matter if you hating it is your genuine emotion.”

Raven nodded, swallowing, and Sutan could see that it wasn’t an easy decision for her.

“As your agent, it’s my responsibility to make sure that you stick to your commitments, but cancellation fees exist for a reason.”

At that, Raven winced, two cancellation fees taking a hefty chunk out of her next paycheck, half of the money going to the brand while the other would end up in Sutan’s pocket but she didn’t protest, sticking to her decision, and that was when he knew she was serious, that she had thought it through.

“Rave,” Sutan reached out, touching her shoulder. “We’re okay.”

At that, a smile finally cracked through, a relieved sigh coming from her. “Good.”

“You know,” Sutan pushed up from the desk, walking around it. “We just got the potential for a Clinique campaign.” Sutan picked up the sales pitch he had received, Clinique sending over a courier with the products they wanted to focus on, Raven being one of their top five picks for the campaign.

“Clinique?”

“I wasn’t going to offer it to you because it conflicted with your December shoots, so I’ve been pulling alts for them, but now, it seems like we can say yes.”

“They pay well, don’t they?”

“That they do,” Sutan had to hide a smile at Raven’s obvious enthusiasm. “You haven’t filmed any commercials in a while, and I know you generally avoid speaking.”

To say that would be an understatement, a director once telling teenage Raven that he couldn’t understand her because of her Russian accent. Raven had gone directly to a speech therapist after that, even though Sutan had found it completely unnecessary, the director just a bigoted jerk.

“Consider it.” Sutan handed her the pitch. “You’d be absolutely fabulous.”

“Maybe,” Raven smirked, “if the offers are lucrative enough to be worth my time.” She tossed her long dark hair over one shoulder, and Sutan grinned.

That was the girl he knew and loved.

“Only the very best, top tier gigs for you.”

“Exactly,” Raven laughed, standing up, the pitch still in hand as she cleared her throat. “Well, guess I’m off.”

“Off to celebrate with some bonus desserts?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing.” Sutan smirked. “Just remember that you’re still a model.”

“Yeah, yeah yeah, stop yapping,” Raven said, her sass fully back as she sailed out the door with a flurry of air kisses.

“Leave it open!” Sutan sat down at his desk, his plans for the day suddenly shifted around. First of all, he’d have to call up the magazine who had booked the shoots and break the news that Raven wouldn’t be available.

It’d require some smooth talk, but it was what he did best.

The real challenge of the day was convincing them to switch to another model, and hopefully, a model that resided under his own wing.

Sutan pressed the button that called for Jackie, the woman showing up before he had even opened his computer. She really was incredible at the job.

“You called?”

“I need the best possible portfolio we can make for Symone, and I need it stat.”

***

“Oh dear god…” Fame covered her eyes with her hands. “Please tell me that this has been handled, Raja, I cannot-”

“Of course it’s been handled. Trixie let Aiden go on Tuesday, and Rita took care of everything with the hospital. We’re making an attorney available to Violet if she wants to press charges.”

“Do you think she will?” Fame asked, concern creasing her brow. “That’s the last thing we-”

“Listen. We obviously can’t do anything to dissuade her, or we face an even bigger liability.”

“I know that, Raja,” Fame snapped.

“-But, my guess is that she’ll want to wash her hands of the whole thing, certainly not become embroiled in a lawsuit.”

“Right. Right…” Fame sighed. “And we’ve covering all medical costs, taxis, whatever she needs right?”

“Of course. It’s a worker’s comp thing now, so everything’s covered by insurance.”

“Good. I should probably send her something, too. Flowers, maybe. Or a little spa treatment?”

“That would be nice, I’m sure she’d appreciate it. She’s staying with Tan if you want to-”

“Courtney!” Fame called out, pausing for a few moments before shaking her head. “I swear, that girl left her head at home today. Courtney!”

***

Courtney was obsessing again, reading her last text exchange with Bianca for about the 75th time since Friday.

COURTNEY: Have a good flight! <3

BIANCA: Thx! See you next week. XX

It was so mundane, so trite, and Courtney found herself cringing inwardly every time she looked at it, wishing she’d said something deeper or smarter or more sophisticated. And the “see you next week” - did that imply that Bianca didn’t want to talk to her while she was away? It certainly sounded like it. But Courtney wanted to send her another message, wanted desperately to let her know that she was still thinking about her.

She’d been racking her brain for something, anything, to say. She could ask her a question about their upcoming meeting at Marie Claire on Friday, but something told Courtney that would be transparent and dumb, and in no way sexy anyway. What she was really thinking about, nearly constantly, was if she’d ever get to feel Bianca’s hands on her again, the heat of her mouth, the press of her perfect body. That she was ready to sell her soul for one more night together, one more exhilarating night...

But she couldn’t very well say that. She didn’t want to appear needy or crazy, even if that’s how she felt. What she’d said to Adore was tragically true: the ball was entirely in Bianca’s court. And if she was done, if she didn’t intend to see her again except at work-related events or casual encounters, then that was something Courtney would just have to live with.

The one source of hope that Courtney had, maybe a false one, was the way Bianca had kissed her goodbye. Soft and tender, cradling her face, a kiss that promised more.

Even if she’d made no such promise out loud.

Even if Courtney was an absolute idiot for thinking that’s what it meant.

“Courtney!”

Her head snapped up, realizing with a sinking feeling that Miss Fame had called her name multiple times. Shit. She grabbed her notepad and jumped up.

“Coming Miss!”

***

7 notes · View notes

izzyfandoms · 4 years ago

Text

Miraculous: Tales of Tarantula and Prince Dragon

Origins - Part One

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

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

WARNINGS: Bullying, fighting, anxiety

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

Miraculous: Tales of Tarantula and Prince Dragon Masterpost

Masterpost

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Owl.

The Yellow Snake.

The Spider.

The Red Dragon.

The Bird.

The White Cat.

The Lion.

The Octopus.

The empty box of the Turtle.

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

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

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

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

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

***

“Virgil. Virgil!”

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

How did he sleep through it again?

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

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

“You’re gonna be late for school!”

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

It was Monday.

The first day back at school.

He groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Language.”

“Sorry.”

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

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

Virgil huffed. “I hope so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Dad.”

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

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

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

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

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

“See you tonight, then!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmm... delicious!”

“Yeah, my da- oh, shit!”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re in my seat. Move.”

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

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

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

The mayor’s son. A spoilt brat.

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

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

Three new guys?

“Who’s Roman?”

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

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

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

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

Something suddenly clicked in Virgil’s head.

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

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

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

“What are you laughing at?”

“You, duh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s mean, Rem.”

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

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

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

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

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

Virgil snorted. “He’s the worst.”

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

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

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

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

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

Virgil turned back to Remus, pulling a face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

But the expectations for Remus and Roman were different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

Pryce just laughed, leaning back in his chair as their teacher sighed at Andy.

“Andy, what’s going on?”

“It’s Pryce! He’s- he’s- he’s such an asshole! Oh, I’m gonna-” He grabbed the front of Pryce’s white and red hoodie, glaring up at the taller boy and shaking him roughly.

“Andy!” Miss Bustier scolded. “Go to the principal’s office.”

Pryce laughed – and Remy, who was always one for drama – laughed along with him as Andy angrily grabbed his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder and storming out of the classroom. The rest of them just watched.

***

“Perfect. A heart full of negative emotions. Anger. Sadness. Betrayal. Just what I need.”

A glowing white butterfly landed on the gloved hand of the super-villain. He covered it with his other hand, and it turned a neon black and purple.

“Turn him into my soldier. Fly away, little akuma, and evilize him!”

The akuma left his hand, and he thumped his cane against the floor – the sound echoing across the dark empty room – as he flew through the window. It moved across Paris, an inconspicuous little butterfly that drew no attention, as no one noticed its dark aura and glowing purple pattern, with a one-track mind as it headed towards its victim. Hawk Moth didn’t have to wait long before he felt it infect Andy Bruel, and he smiled as the connection between him and his target was opened. A glowing purple outline – a jagged mask – appeared across his face, a matching one appearing on his victim, too.

“Blackheart, I am Hawk Moth. You feel weak and helpless, scorned by your peers and the teacher you thought you could trust. I give you the power and strength to seek revenge on those who have wronged you. You’ll never feel weak and helpless again”

“Okay, Hawk Moth.”

***

The library was full of students talking quietly amongst themselves. Only a few were really doing work, though all were supposed to.

Virgil and Remus had managed to find themselves a good table – with Remus having elbowed many others out of the way to get it – and were sat across from the other new kid, Patton Césaire, and Thomas Haprèle-Sanders. They had their school books open in front of them, but were paying them little attention as they had been mostly left unsupervised.

Then, there was a loud bang as something large shook the whole library, knocking all four of them out of their seats and to the ground. Virgil yelped, holding his backpack to his chest and looking around frantically.

Remus jumped up first, grabbing Virgil by the wrist and tugging him up and across the room, towards the large TV that showed off security camera footage of different areas of the school. Both Patton and Thomas followed immediately behind, as did a few other nearby students, and they all watched in helpless shock as the screen showed a large, black, stone-like monster landing just outside the front of the school.

It dented the pavement, and the few nearby cars and people they could see all fled at the sight of it.

“Pryce!” It shouted.

Many of the other students around them began to shout and flee, but the four of them remained glued in place, watching the screen with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

“What the hell?” Virgil exclaimed. “That’s Andy’s voice!”

“Woah, it’s like he was turned into a real-life super-villain!” Remus’s voice lacked the fear that Virgil’s held, as he just stared at the screen in amazement.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Thomas asked worriedly.

Patton grabbed Remus’s arm, shaking him equally excitedly. “Do you think there’ll be a super-hero, too? Whatever turned Andy into this, it’s gotta be some kind of super-villain!”

“Or Andy’s the super-villain,” Remus commented.

Thomas shook his head. “Andy wouldn’t do that. He’s- he’s intimidating, but he’s not evil.”

“We’ve gotta follow, we could record it.” Remus grinned. “There’s no way I’m missing this!”

Patton nodded enthusiastically in agreement, and when Remus turned on his heel and ran in the opposite direction, he immediately ran after him. Thomas turned to follow, too, but hesitated, glancing back at Virgil, who remained in place.

“Are you coming?” He asked.

Virgil shook his head. “God, no. I’m going home. I don’t wanna be killed by this thing.”

Thomas’s brow creased in thought. “It’s Andy,” he said softly. “He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Then, he, too left, leaving Virgil on his own, still watching the TV screen. He watched as the monster with Andy’s voice picked up a car and threw it at the security camera, breaking it and showing only a rainbow error screen.

“Pryce!” It shouted as it did so.

Virgil winced.

***

Roman’s lesson had been far more boring than usual. Normally, he at least had Remus to entertain him, but as Remus had managed to successfully escape and go to school, it had left only him and Nathalie in the large, echoing dining room. The subject was boring, too. Roman never had been the biggest fan of History.

For a minute, his father, Gabriel, had emerged to scold him for going to school, and comment on how Remus was a ‘lost cause’ and that only Roman needed to be protected. Roman hadn’t been sure which of the two statements had angered him more, but he’d left in a hurry, locking himself in his room and turning on the TV.

The day became significantly more interesting when the news displayed a monster named Blackheart rampaging across Paris, but Roman was still stuck in his room, far from the action.

(When the police had fired their weapons at Blackheart, the monster had only grown larger and stronger, still yelling the name ‘Pryce’ as it destroyed cars and damaged the pavement with each footstep. The mayor had recommended everyone stay home while the police dealt with the threat.)

Then, Roman noticed the octagonal box laying on the coffee table in front of the TV.

***

“This day keeps getting better and better,” Virgil mumbled sarcastically to himself as he watched the news report on the super-villain.

Then, he noticed the octagonal box – one that he’d never seen before – laying on his desk by the computer.

“Huh?” He said, picking it up and looking it over. “What’s this?”

It was well-made: black with an intricate red pattern carved into the top.

He opened it, and the first thing he saw was a necklace – a silver chain with a large black and purple spider-shaped charm hanging off it. The second thing he saw was a purple ball of light emerge from the necklace.

The spider charm changed to a black tear-drop shape, and a small, round, spider-shaped creature with a large head formed out of the ball of light, floating above the jewellery.

Virgil yelped, pushing his chair back, wheeling as far away from the floating spider as possible, only just managing to not fall out of the chair as the box and the necklace clattered to the ground. The floating spider stared at him from a moment, uncurling its eight legs and blinking its eight eyes at him. It looked almost... cute – mostly black, but with a purple pattern – but Virgil was far too freaked out to notice that.

“What the fuck?”

Then, the floating spider opened its mouth and spoke, and Virgil just about had a heart attack.

“That is not very nice,” it said, in a low, female voice.

“What the fuck are you?”

The spider had a very inhuman-looking face, but Virgil could immediately tell that the look she gave him was flat and slightly annoyed.

“I am a kwami,” she spoke calmly. “And my name is Boo.”

“Boo? Like- like a ghost?”

She sighed. “The sound was named after me, not the other way around. Plagg thought it was funny, but I beg to differ. I suppose it can’t be helped anymore, though. And you can’t have known any better.”

Boo floated closer to him, and Virgil immediately jolted back.

“There is no need to be afraid,” Boo continued in an impatient tone of voice. “I am here to help.”

“Help with what?”

Boo made a quiet sound that was halfway between a hum and a buzz, before she drifted down towards the floor, landing between the box and the necklace that had fallen out of it.

“This is a Miraculous,” she explained. “The Spider Miraculous, to be precise. Miraculouses are magical pieces of jewellery that grant powers to their users when combined with their respective kwamis. Currently, the Butterfly Miraculous – also known as the Moth Miraculous – is in the hands of a super-villain. It grants the user the ability to choose a champion to fight for them, granting them temporary powers to aid them in battling evil.” She paused for a moment. “But, in the hands of evil, it is used to turn victims into-”

“Monsters,” Virgil finished, his eyes returning to the computer screen, where the news still displayed the battle against Blackheart. “Like what’s happened to Andy.”

Boo nodded, seeming please that he figured that part out on his own. “Exactly. The villain has used an akuma – a butterfly, that when combined with an object turns the owner of the object into a hero or a monster. The Butterfly Miraculous must be retrieved and returned to the Guardian.”

“Guardian?”

“Yes. The Guardian keeps a hold of the Miraculouses – or, at least, some of the Miraculouses.” She sighed, her small body drooping visibly. “Many are still lost to us. You see, Miraculouses come in sets, in large boxes that hold at least a dozen at a time, but our Guardian currently only holds a few of us, all from different boxes.”

“Okay... but, what are you doing here? Like... in my room?”

Boo moved so she was right in front of his face: all eight of her eyes staring right into Virgil’s two, and he barely resisted the urge to look away uncomfortably.

“You have been chosen to wield the Spider Miraculous, to become a hero and fight the wielder of the Butterfly Miraculous.”

Virgil froze.

“Wha- but I’m not a hero.”

“Not yet, but you will be.”

“But- but I don’t know how to fight,” Virgil spoke hurriedly, stumbling over his words. “And I especially don’t know how to fight a super-villain!”

“The Miraculous will enhance your strength, speed and agility. It will give you the physical abilities needed to fight.”

“But I’m just a teenager! I go to school, I design and make clothes, I bake with my parents. That’s it! I can’t fight!”

“Anyone can use a Miraculous to fight,” Boo said calmly. “Even the weakest of people could use a Miraculous to fight. But it takes a special kind of soul to be a hero.” She flew forwards, resting one of her eight arms on Virgil’s chest, over his heart. “And you have that.”

"I- what?”

“Every Miraculous has a specific type of human it matches well with,” she continued, speaking slowly and patiently. “These people are rare and difficult to find, but every Guardian has the ability to see which souls make the perfect wielders. And you, Virgil Dupain-Cheng, are a perfect match for the Spider. The Guardian tested you, too, and he saw that your heart is good. You will be a good hero.”

There were many things to unpack there, and Virgil was feeling really quite overwhelmed. His hands bunched up the material of his hoodie in tight fists, and he could feel his heart race.

“I... I don’t remember being tested?”

It was difficult to tell with her inhuman face, but Virgil got the feeling that Boo was smiling at him.

“The best tests are the ones where the subject is unaware that they are being tested,” she spoke cryptically. “Those produce the most genuine results.” She paused for a moment. “Does this mean you are ready? Because there is still a villain rampaging through the streets of Paris, and we really should be quick.”

Virgil straightened up suddenly, like he was only now remembering the situation at hand.

“You said that the monster was created by a- a wielder of the Moth Miraculous, right?”

“Correct.”

“So, where are they? The news only talks about the, uh... Andy. Blackheart. Where’s the Butterfly?”

“Likely in hiding,” Boo answered. “The Butterfly works from a distance. The wielder likely won’t emerge unless absolutely necessary, and will only fight through their champions.”

Virgil’s brow creased in confusion. “But then how am I supposed to fight him?” He paused for a moment, watching the kwami’s expression, before sighing. “This is gonna last more than one battle, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so. I believe it won’t be so easy to draw out the Butterfly user, and you’ll have to fight many akumas to get there.”

“Shit.”

Boo shot him a chastising look, and he mumbled an apology. She sighed.

“We do have some idea of the Butterfly’s motivations, though.”

“And what’s that?”

“I believe they are going to be after the Ladybug Miraculous and Black Cat Miraculous: the most powerful of all Miraculouses. Creation and Destruction. Combined, they give the user practically infinite power, so we must make sure they stay out of the wrong hands. The Guardian currently holds these Miraculouses, and we believe that that is what the Butterfly holder is after.”

“So... it’s a race to see who can find the other first? The Butterfly sending out a – what did you call it? – an akuma, and the Guardian sending out me?”

“You will have a partner, too. The Guardian has sent out the Red Dragon Miraculous as well as the Spider. We should hurry, he might have already transformed by now.”

“Crap, okay.”

“So, you’ll do it?”

“Uh... yeah? I guess. It- it's worth a try.”

“Wonderful.” Boo clapped with four pairs of spider-hands. “Put on the necklace and from now on, you cannot take it off.” She paused for a moment, watching as Virgil bent down, picking up the box and the necklace, shoving the box into a random desk drawer, and putting the necklace on. “When you wish to transform, say ‘Boo, web out,’ and then when you wish to de-transform, say ‘Boo, web in.’ When transformed, there will be a glamour on you that keeps others from recognising your face and voice, though if you are not careful, they may still work out your identity. This cannot happen.”

Virgil nodded. “Oh- okay.”

“Your power is called Spider Web,” she continued. “Say the words when transformed and it will be activated. You will be able to shoot out a large web from your fingertips that will trap anyone and anything, but yourself. It cannot be destroyed by anything but the power of a few different Miraculouses, and will stay in place for as long as you are transformed. Once you use this, however, you will have five minutes before you de-transform, and you will have to feed me to transform again.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

Boo huffed, crossing four sets of arms. “We will have to work on your language, spiderling.”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just- Andy’s been a monster for way more than five minutes. How come the Moth guy doesn’t get a timer?”

“The Butterfly wielder is likely an adult. Teenagers are given timers, but they are much more flexible and it is easier to develop a Miraculous bond with a teenager than an adult. This will not be too much of an issue, just as long you carry around food to feed me with. It does not take too long to recharge.”

“Okay... what do you eat?”

“Anything sweet.”

“So... like candy?”

“That shall suffice.”

“Okay, that’s... I should have something somewhere...” Virgil wheeled his chair back over his desk and began to hurriedly sift through a few drawers before he finally found what he was looking for, and pulled out a small bag of gummy worms. “Will this work?”

Boo’s eyes lit up. “Oh, these are worm-shaped?”

Virgil nodded.

“That is certainly preferable.” She nodded, and Virgil stuffed the bag into his hoodie pocket. “Insect-shaped sweet things would be my favourite.”

“Is- is that everything?”

“I believe so. You partner’s Miraculous will give him the ability to destroy akumas – not ideal, the Ladybug does work better in these situations, but we must work with what we have got. My recommendation is that you trap this ‘Blackheart’, and then your partner breaks the object and the akuma. After the akuma is destroyed, the Guardian will use the Ladybug Miraculous’s cure to fix any damage caused by the akuma.”

Virgil blinked. “But I thought you said he didn’t want to risk using the Ladybug or the Black Cat?”

“He will not be involved in the battle,” Boo explained. “He will remain in hiding, as the cure can be used from a distance. Do you understand?”

“Alright... I- I think so.” Virgil nodded. “So... uh, I guess – Boo, web out?”

He said it more like a question than anything else, but it worked just fine, and Boo was immediately sucked into the Miraculous. Virgil felt the transformation wash over him – strangely cool and tingly as his clothes were replaced by a surprisingly comfortable super-suit.

Most of the super-suit was one piece – solid black with deep, purple pockets on the trousers and a purple belt around the middle. The boots were black, too, (but with purple soles) and there was a large white spider-web in the centre of the chest, just under the necklace. The jewel had changed to a bright purple, eight-legged spider again, like it had had before Boo had come out, but this time it had five glowing purple eyes on its head. There was a jacket, too, that was black and purple with white spider-web patches, that had a large hood currently pulled down. His gloves were thick, sturdy and black.

Under the jacket, over the suit, there looked to be four thick 3D lines – two on each side – spreading out from his spine, like extra ribs over his ribcage, that gave the illusion of Virgil having four short extra legs, just stuck to his torso.

Attached to his belt on one side was something that looked halfway between a phone and a tablet, that matched the black and purple aesthetic, with a spider-web across the back. On the other side, also attached to his belt, was a coiled-up piece of white rope that appeared to be thick and sturdy and incredibly shiny.

And, on his face, there was a mask. It was black and purple, surrounding his eyes and covering most of his nose, but spreading out like a spider-web near the edges of his face.

His previously brown eyes were now solid black – no whites or irises, just solid black and shiny, with quite the creepy effect – and his previously black hair was now tinted purple, a colour he’d always wanted to dye it to. His canines had sharpened to a point, like fangs.

Aesthetically, he looked closer to a typical super-villain than a super-hero, and Virgil loved it.

Virgil grinned despite his anxiety – it was ever-present, really, so he had experience trying to ignore the pounding heart in his chest. This felt... right.

“Virgil? Honey, is everything okay?” He heard his mother call out from under the trapdoor that led to his room.

“Crap,” he muttered. “Uh, yeah, Mama, I’m fine!” He shouted back.

Part of the whole ‘super-hero’ thing was keeping your identity a secret, he assumed, so he figured he probably shouldn’t let his parents know. He left his room, climbing up onto the rooftop balcony and ducking down so no one on the street below could see him.

“Okay...” he mumbled to himself. “How do I...”

Virgil’s hand landed on the rope attached to his belt. Immediately, he could feel himself connecting to it, almost like it was becoming an extension of his body – something he could use just as easily as the rest of his limbs. He knew exactly what to do.

He straightened up, pulling the rope off his belt and feel one end of it coil around his hand like a snake, attaching itself easily. Then, he flicked his wrist, and the other end of the rope shot forward, stretching and elongating itself magically and catching a gargoyle on the rooftop of an opposite building, just across the street.

Virgil took a deep breath, and then tugged.

He was suddenly pulled forward as the rope followed his silent command and made itself shorter, swinging him across the street and then up and over the building, much further than he’d anticipated.

He yelped, then bit back a scream as he tumbled uncontrollably through the air – the rope detaching itself from the building as his grip on it loosened. He moved too fast to see where he was going and he couldn’t catch himself in time before he crashed into another figure on a whole different rooftop than the one he’d meant to land on.

“Jesus- fuck!” He yelped as he rolled off the other person and landed on his back.

“Oh, wow! You were-” they took a moment to huff loudly, out of breath from being knocked into by Virgil. “You were not looking where you were going, were you?”

Virgil panted, out of breath, taking a few seconds to compose himself – staring up at the blue and white sky and wincing slightly at the too-bright sun – before he finally had enough air in his lungs to talk again.

“Excuse me for not being perfect on my first day of people a superhero,” he hissed, perhaps a little harsher than intended, but he was having an interesting day.

There was a beat.

“So, you’re my partner, then?” Virgil didn’t have time to answer that before a masked face appeared in his vision as his partner got up, looking him over critically. “Hmm... you look like a villain, but I suppose you’ll do.”

Virgil took a moment to glare half at him and half at the sun, before he sat up and finally looked over his partner properly.

It was a teenage boy about his age – though that part he could’ve told from the voice alone – with blond hair and bright green eyes. He was dressed in a way that looked halfway between a super-suit for fighting crime, and a proper suit for a formal event: red and gold with hints of white, all made up of dragon-like scales. His gloves were a pristine white, matching his boots. On one side, on his hip, he had a tablet similar to Virgil’s, though red and gold inside of black and purple, and on his other hip there was a sheathed sword.

On his wrist there was a golden bracelet: it looked like a dragon with red gems for eyes and five red spikes down its back, its tail in its mouth. Virgil assumed that that was his Miraculous.

Virgil huffed, crossing his arms. “How come you get a sword, and I just get a piece of rope?”

The other hero laughed, holding out his hand to Virgil. “Because I’m awesome, that’s why.”

Virgil took his hand, allowing the other boy to pull him up so they were standing side-by-side. He was slightly taller than the Dragon hero, and he couldn’t help but feel just a tad smug about it.

“So,” his partner continued, straightening up and announcing. “I am Prince Dragon.”

“That’s too long,” Virgil said immediately, without thinking. “I’m calling you Princey.”

Princey huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine, whatever. And who might you be?”

Virgil blinked. “Uh...”

“You mock my alias, yet you still haven’t come up with your own?”

“I wasn’t mocking, I just- I'm not creative, okay! I dunno. How the hell did you come up with yours so quickly?”

“Because I’m a genius, spider boy.”

“Oh, well, sorry it takes me more than fifteen freaking minutes to come up with a good name,” Virgil snapped sarcastically. “My mind’s been a little occupied.”

“No need to be rude, oh, eight-legged partner of mine,” Prince Dragon said, before flashing a bright grin. “I’ll just help you come up with one. Hmm...” He tapped his finger on his chin. “What about Spinner? You know, ‘cos spiders spin webs?”

“Pass.”

“What about... Charlotte?”

“What?”

“You know, Charlotte? Like Charlotte’s web? Ugh, please tell me my partner isn’t uncultured. I don’t know if I’ll be able to work with you if you can’t understand my references.”

“No, I- ugh, no, I get the reference. I just- whatever, that’s a dumb name. Try again.”

“No, need to be so rude, my knight in gloomy armour.” Prince Dragon then suddenly perked up again. “Ooh, what about something knight-themed?”

“No.”

Princey ignored him. “Stormy Knight? That matches your gloomy attitude!”

“But not my powers or my costume,” Virgil said flatly. “I’m a spider. I can make a big web to trap people, that’s it. Nothing weather-related. Also-” he paused, before his eyes widened. “Oh, shit, shouldn’t we be saving Paris?”

Just as he said this, the pair suddenly heard a loud rumble and a crash. Both jumped, startled, their heads swivelling around. They watched, wide-eyed and shocked, as a nearby building fell and crashed to the ground in a large cloud of dust.

“Oh, my stars, I can’t believe I let you distract me like that! We have a job to do!”

“Me? Distract you? You were the one listing names and wasting time!”

***

The seats of the stadium were all empty, the only people in the vicinity being the students stretching and doing P.E. in the centre. They were all calm, relaxed and chatting amongst themselves, none of them having heard the news of the monster roaming the Paris streets, who was looking for one of them in particular.

“Pryce!” Blackheart roared, leaping into the stadium and denting the ground as it landed with a crash. “So, who’s the coward now?”

The rest of the students fled, leaving only a frozen Pryce standing terrified in the centre, his legs unable to move for once in his life. Then, after a moment, he finally remembered to run, and he turned on his heel and attempted to flee.

The monster was large – at least twice as tall as the average human – and made out of smooth, black stone, with two large, glowing white eyes that took up almost half of its face. One hand was permanently clenched into a fist. The other reached out towards the fleeing Pryce. Its hand was five times the size of his head – it would easily be able to crush his skull to dust with just one simple squeeze.

Pryce tripped, but before the monster could grab and destroy him, a hero dressed in red, gold and white landed between them.

(Enhanced speed, strength and agility made travelling across Paris much swifter and easier, especially when paired with a partner who could swing between buildings with invincible spider-silk rope.)

“My, you’re quite the giant, aren’t you?” Prince Dragon grinned at the beast, unsheathing his sword and getting into a fighting stance.

“And you’re tiny compared to me. Is that toothpick supposed to scare me?”

Blackheart lifted his fist, before smashing it down over Prince Dragon’s head. He dodged out of the way just in time, and a cloud of dust burst from the spot that the stone hand had hit the ground. The giant straightened up again, and the purple of a mask appeared over his face for a brief moment.

“No!” Blackheart heard Hawk Moth shout in his head. “They don’t have the Ladybug or the Black Cat Miraculouses! Capture them, take their Miraculouses, and find out where they’re hiding them!”

Then, the outline faded, but Blackheart knew that the villain was still watching through his eyes.

“Where are the Ladybug and the Black Cat?” He bellowed at Prince Dragon as the hero easily dodged another blow. “Give them to me!”

Prince Dragon jumped up – his Miraculous making him leap much higher and further than he usually could – and brought his sword down over Blackheart’s head. The metal and stone collided with a loud cracking sound, but the villain remained completely unharmed. If the sword hadn’t been magical, it likely would’ve broken, but it didn’t, and, for that, Princey was very grateful.

But when the hero’s boots hit the ground again, he watched in open-mouthed horror as Blackheart began to glow, increasing in size before turning back to Prince Dragon with a growl.

“Crap.”

As he said this, Virgil finally landed in the arena, just across the grass from the fight – having slowed down and dawdled out of anxiety, gnawing on his thumb as he considered just turning around and fleeing.

Being a hero? That wasn’t for him! He was Virgil, he was a coward! He was no hero. He couldn’t do this. He really, really couldn’t do this. He should’ve told Boo ‘no’ and just given the Miraculous to somebody else, someone actually fit for being a hero.

Maybe Remus? He certainly seemed brave enough.

Or Thomas. Or Patton. They were both nice and smart and-

“Hey, spider-guy, what are you waiting for? Kill him!”

Virgil jumped, spinning around, his eyes finally landing on Remus, Thomas and Patton, who were crouching down at the edge of the arena, watching the fight.

“No, no! Don’t kill him. Save him!” Thomas elbowed Remus’s arm, shooting him a reprimanding look, before turning back to the hero with one of wide-eyed concern

Remus then muttered something that sounding something like. “Fine, if you wanna be boring.”

(Virgil suddenly realised that his hearing was much, much better like this. As was his eyesight, as he could make out things far away much clearer than usual.)

Patton nodded enthusiastically, agreeing with Thomas, and then held up his phone, which appeared to be filming the action – which included Virgil, too, of course.

He took a deep breath – feeling his heart beat loudly and steadily in his chest: ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum – before he straightened up, suddenly filled with a courage that he hadn’t felt before. Virgil turned back to the fight, and cursed under his breath when he realised that, in the moments he’d been hesitating, Prince Dragon had lost his sword (it lay abandoned on the grass, not too far from Virgil) and the hero, himself, had been grabbed by Blackheart.

Virgil grabbed his rope, feeling one end coil around his wrist, just as it had before. It was tight enough to be reassuring, but not enough to be physically uncomfortable. He then whipped the other end forward, and it wrapped itself around Blackheart’s legs.

He tugged, and the villain fell forward onto its face. Both of his hands opened as he tripped: Prince Dragon tumbling out of one of them, and a small purple rock falling right out of the other. Blackheart picked the rock back up as quickly as he could, curling his hand into a protective fist around it, but Virgil managed to catch a quick glimpse of it, and something clicked in his head.

He turned and ran over to his partner as Prince Dragon got back to his feet.

“The akuma’s in his fist,” Virgil spoke quickly. “It’s a purple rock. He dropped it when he fell, but I doubt he’ll make that same mistake again.”

“Alright, then let’s kick his ass and destroy that thing!”

Virgil grabbed his elbow and tugged him back before he could run off. “Not so fast, Princey. I think he gets bigger when you hit him. We’ve gotta be smart about this.”

Prince Dragon huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine, then. What do you suggest, knock-off Peter Parker?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, glancing around the arena for inspiration. Blackheart was frozen in place with a glowing purple mask on his face. It was vaguely butterfly-shaped, so he assumed it had something to do with the Moth Miraculous wielder who had turned him into that monster.

“What’s your power? I can make a big web to trap it with. It sticks to everyone but me,” Virgil said, but when Prince Dragon opened his mouth to respond, he hurriedly interrupted him. “And don’t say the name, yet! That activates it, and it’s a one-time use kinda thing.”

Prince Dragon blinked. “It is?”

“Yes, and we have five minutes afterwards before we de-transform. Didn’t your, uh... your kwami explain that to you?”

Prince Dragon shot him a sheepish smile. “I got excited.”

Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes again. “Fine. Please, tell me you at least know what your power is.”

“Relax, Hot Topic, I'm not stupid, I know that one! I can breathe fire – it lasts a few seconds and can destroy anything. Tarr said I should use it to destroy the akuma.”

“Right, you’ll use it on the rock then.”

Princey nodded.

“Okay... but how do we get him to open his fist?”

“Uh...” Virgil trailed off. He didn’t know what to say, but his thoughts were interrupted when Blackheart suddenly turned and leapt at them again. “Improvise!” He shouted as they ran in opposite directions to avoid being crushed.

“Nice plan!” Prince Dragon shouted back sarcastically, grabbing his previously-abandoned sword off the ground and quickly re-sheathing it.

Blackheart turned to Virgil, lifting his fists in the air, and Virgil gulped.

“Where are the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses?” Blackheart shouted again.

“Why the hell would I know?” Virgil shouted back, jumping to the left just in time for a large, black stone fist to come crashing down where he’d just stood.

His head swivelled around quickly as he looked for something, anything, that could help them defeat Blackheart. At one side of the stadium stood Thomas, Remus and Patton, still watching and filming the fight. Virgil was quite grateful that Blackheart showed no interest in attacking the trio, as he wasn’t sure what he would do if he had to protect them, too. At the other side stood his partner, who stared at him expectantly.

“Shit,” Virgil swore under his breath. “Uh- uh-”

Then, suddenly, something clicked in his head and he straightened up. He had a plan.

Blackheart turned, ready to attack Prince Dragon, but before he even had his back fully to Virgil, the hero whistled loudly get his attention back.

“Hey!” Virgil shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “I lied. I’ve got them right here!” He patted his pockets, backing up as he did so. “Come and get them!”

Blackheart spun back around, roaring and running towards Virgil, bringing the fist that didn’t hold the akuma down. Virgil stayed in place until the last second, then rolled out of the way just as the stone hand hit the ground.

“Spider Web!” Virgil shouted, aiming his hands in the direction of Blackheart’s fist.

A white web shot from the palms of his hands, flying in the direction of Blackheart and landing over his fist, spreading out, covering it and attaching it to the ground. The villain tried to pull his hand back but failed, grunting as he did so. He tried to rest his foot on the web to steady himself, but the foot got stuck, too.

Blackheart turned and roared at the heroes as Prince Dragon returned to Virgil’s side.

“Nice work, sidekick.”

Virgil turned and glared at him. “Partner,” he corrected.

Princey raised his hands defensively. “Kidding, kidding! No need to get your super-suit in a twist, my dark and stormy knight.” He grinned widely. “So, what now? How do we get him to open his other hand?”

“That’s where you come in,” Virgil said, turning back to Blackheart and watching the villain try and fail to escape the web. “I need you to throw me at him.”

“You- what?”

“Throw me at him,” Virgil repeated, a tad impatiently. “At the fist we need to open. The suits make us strong enough, I’m pretty sure. I’m hoping he’ll try to catch me and drop the rock.”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“Then... panic.”

Prince Dragon snorted. “Well, I suppose it’s the only plan we’ve got.”

“Destroy the rock as soon as you can. Hopefully, before Blackheart can crush me.”

“You have such faith in me. Surprising, given your gloomy attitude and evil colour-scheme.”

“Yeah, well, don’t make me regret it.”

Prince Dragon grinned. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Then, without warning – which Virgil supposed he should’ve expected – he picked Virgil up, taking a moment to adjust him in his arms, and almost balance him on his shoulder, before launching him straight at the villain with a strength much higher than any regular human’s.

As Virgil tumbled through the air, he heard cheering from the side lines, with Remus’s voice being the loudest of the three. He probably would’ve smiled at the reassurance if he hadn’t been currently falling through the air towards a stone monster at an alarming speed.

Blackheart opened his hand to catch Virgil – just as he’d hoped – the stone fingers wrapping tightly around the hero’s middle, and the rock fell to the ground.

Prince Dragon dashed over to it, picking it up and tossing it into the air.

“Fire Breath!” He shouted, and a large bright flame immediately burst from his mouth, lasting a few seconds and burning the small, purple rock into ash.

A small, black and purple butterfly appeared from the ash, and, at the same time, Blackheart turned back to Andy. Both him and Virgil fell to the ground with a thump, and Andy immediately began to look around wildly – wide-eyed and panicked and confused, like he had absolutely no idea how he’d gotten there.

The ash turned back into a crumpled ball of paper, and the akuma flew away. Neither of the two heroes noticed the butterfly.

“Yes!” Prince Dragon cheered, pumping his fist in the air. “I’m awesome!” As Virgil got up, dusting himself off and shooting him a pointed look, he continued with: “Oh, and, uh... you’re awesome, too, I guess.”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

He then looked around. “Uh... isn’t all this damage supposed to fix itself? Boo said that when we were done, the Guardian would use the Ladybug to fix everything that was destroyed by the akuma.”

Prince Dragon shrugged. “Maybe he’s just late. This is our first time doing this, after all.”

“What the hell’s going on? What am I doing here?” Andy sat up.

“Woah! That was amazing!” Patton exclaimed as the three other students ran over to them. “You two are so cool!” He bounced up and down on the spot, still recording on his phone. “Who are you? What can we call you?”

Princey beamed. “I am Prince Dragon, and I vow to protect Paris until the villain that akumatized your friend is caught!”

“And, uh... I am...” Virgil trailed off, glancing for a moment at Prince Dragon for help, but his partner just shrugged. “I’m... Tarantula?”

“Woah! Badass!” Remus exclaimed. “You look like Halloween threw up on you. That’s awesome!”

Thomas spared a quick glance at the two heroes, before rushing over to Andy to help him up. Andy’s face reddened slightly when the other teen touched him, and something immediately clicked in Virgil’s head. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he noticed that his necklace was beeping, and he glanced down at it.

Three of the eyes on the spider had stopped glowing, leaving only two remaining. One was flickering, and it took him a moment to realise that that meant he had less than two minutes before he transformed back.

“Crap, I’ve gotta go,” he said. “Identity’s gotta stay a secret, you know?” He turned back to the others, who were watching him, and he awkwardly saluted. “Uh... Tarantula out, I guess.”

Before he could die of awkward embarrassment, he grabbed his rope again, quickly using it to swing out of the stadium and leave. Princey seemed the friendly type – he could finish dealing with the civilians on his own.

***

“So, thanks to this amateur footage, the Parisians now know the names of our heroes. The Mayor is organizing a huge celebration in honour of our new protectors: Prince Dragon and Tarantula!”

Roman sat back on the sofa, grinning proudly as he watched the news.

“I can’t believe it, I’m a super-hero now!”

“Eww, what’s this?” The red dragon kwami pulled a face.

“What? It’s ice cream. My personal chef made it. Don’t you like it?”

Tarr flew closer to his face, crossing his arms and glaring at Roman. “No! It’s cold, so I hate it! If you expect me to get my energy back up, I’m gonna need something hotter!”

“Like what?”

“Like peppers! The spiciest you can find!”

Roman sighed, taking his phone from his pocket and switching it on. “Fine. Remus isn’t home yet, I’ll text him and get him to pick some up. If I bribe him with video games, he’ll probably do it, no questions asked.”

“Good! Remember, no one can know about me, not even your twin. It’s, like, one of the most important rules of the Miraculous.”

Roman sighed again, louder this time. “But what’s the point of saving people, if no one knows to praise my name!”

***

“Just as Paris is about to celebrate the appearance of our two new super-heroes, Prince Dragon and Tarantula, a new wave of panic is sweeping across the capital as dozens of people are mysteriously transformed into black stone monsters. It’s simply unbelievable!”

“Wha- Boo, what the hell? You didn’t say this was gonna happen?”

The spider kwami flew over to her holder, who was watching the news on his computer, which now displayed video footage of dozens of black and purple butterflies – akumas – flying around Paris and turning people into frozen black stone monsters. Statues.

“Did you destroy the akuma?” Boo asked.

“We destroyed the stone that held the akuma. Isn’t that what you told us to do?”

Boo shook her head, sighing. “No, an akuma can multiply, that’s why it must be purified or destroyed after breaking what holds it. Virgil, if Andy’s emotions turn negative again, then Hawkmoth can use original akuma to turn him back into Blackheart. He’ll bring all those statues to life and control them as one giant army.”

Virgil’s stomach dropped.

“Shit.”

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draculaspetbee · 5 years ago

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For Rin! Happy Birthday fam <3

Hey, I wrote this little thing for you my friend. I hope you enjoy it, it’s just a lot of tooth rotting fluff, for your birthday. @pastelwitchling

Alex woke to the sweet smell of pancakes wafting through the room. A warm solid weight next to him snuffled and small legs kicked gently against his side. He didn’t want to move from the warm cocoon of blankets that enveloped him, but he could hear a soft singing and the scrape of a spatula calling him like a siren song. He stretched slowly, careful not to disturb Buffy next to him as she lay twitching, obviously deep in some doggy dream. She huffed anyway as he moved, and he couldn’t help the small smile as he rubbed her belly. He put on his prosthetic and, not wanting to completely abandon the warmth of the bed, rustled through his drawers to find his soft cream sweats. They engulfed him in the best way, keeping him safe and warm as he wandered into the kitchen to find his boyfriend swaying by the stove top. Alex couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around the man and moving his hips in time with the song he was singing.

“What’s the special occasion?”

“Hmm? What do you mean Captain?”

Alex snuggled his face into the crook of Forrest’s neck at the term of endearment. It had taken some time to get used to the soft tone that he used with it, but now it just made him blush tremendously.

“You’re making our special pancakes, with chocolate chips and everything.”

“Well, someone is giving a super special performance today at the open mic, so I thought we could spend the day doing a few of your favorite things, starting with our special pancakes.” A warmth spread deeply in his chest, heating him from the inside out. Alex knew he must be blushing furiously and snuggled his face further into his boyfriend’s neck. “Go on, sit, this was the last pancake anyway.”

“How’d you do all of this without me waking up anyway? I’m usually up hours before you.”

“I may have woken up a few hours early so that I could get working. It was no trouble.” Alex sank into his usual spot at the table, and Forrest set a plate heaping with food in front of him. As he took in the array Forrest took a moment to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, spreading the blush from his cheeks up the back of his neck. Forrest just grinned at him fondly and began digging into his own food.

They cleaned up the kitchen together, moving in sync as Forrest washed the dishes and Alex dried. At some point Buffy came lumbering in and flopped down at their feet. Alex could practically see the hearts in Forrest’s eyes as he looked down at her. She let out a long sigh, sounding so put upon that it startled a laugh out of Alex.

“So, what’s next?” Alex tossed the drying rag to his boyfriend, so he could wipe the suds off of his hands.

“Well, I figured we could stay in for today, at least until open mic starts,” he glanced not-so-subtly at the couch where he had pillows and blankets already set out. “I may have updated my old Hulu subscription so that we could watch Buffy for a while.” He gently tugged on Alex’s hand, leading him over to the couch and began getting the blankets ready for a soft little nest.

“Forrest,” his boyfriend glanced up, a lock of blue hair falling into his face as he did so, “You really didn’t have to do all of this.” He rubbed the back of his neck, not quite able to maintain eye contact with the man in front of him who was staring so adoringly at him.

“You deserve it Alex,” Forrest cupped Alex’s face with his hands, making them lock eyes. “You deserve to be put first, to be cared for.” He couldn’t help himself at that, and surged forward kissing his boyfriend fiercely, before Forrest took it over, turning it soft and languid. He felt the hands move from his face down to his hips and let himself be pulled tight against the other man’s chest. Forrest moved them back, never breaking contact until his knees it the edge of the couch, and they went tumbling onto it, Forrest on his back and Alex spread on top of him.

“Shit, are you ok?” Alex lifted himself off of his boyfriend’s chest a bit, trying to see better, but Forrest made a noise of discontent, and pulled him back in. He began kissing his neck, whispering sweet nothings until he let out a low moan as Alex tangled his hands in Forrest’s hair and gripped tight, trying to keep steady in the onslaught of affection.

The didn’t end up watching much Buffy that day.

The nerves were starting to grow as he got ready for open mic. He had showered off the day’s activities and was standing in front of his open closet, trying to decide what he was going to wear out with Forrest. Finally making up his mind, Alex pulled out a pair of dark wash jeans he knew hugged his hips and ass almost sinfully tight, knowing just how much Forrest would love stripping them off him later that night. Next was a dark green shirt, one that he knew made the colors in his eyes pop, and he rounded out the outfit with the black leather jacket he’d taken to wearing. As he was tying his boots up, he noticed movement at the doorway, and knew it was Forrest leaning there, watching him finish getting ready.

“You look amazing Alex. God, I’m so lucky to have you.” He felt heat rise, but instead of brushing off the compliment like usual, he just grinned at his boyfriend, letting himself bask in the sincerity.

“Thanks. You don’t look half bad yourself.” In fact, Forrest looked like he was glowing and comfortable, wearing one of his loose-fitting sweaters and striped shirts, an outfit that Alex knew made him feel grounded.

“Hey,” Forrest moved from his spot by the door and sat on the bed. He started fidgeting with one of the many solid silver rings as he spoke, his voice coming out halting and hesitant, “So, I was going through a box of my old things the other day, and I found some of my old high school rings. And uh, I don’t have much use for them anymore, but I kind of don’t want to sell them.” His knee started bouncing, Alex gently set a hand on it to calm him down a bit.

“Forrest, are you asking if I would want to wear some of your rings?” His boyfriend looked up, startled.

“This doesn’t have to mean anything Alex, not if you don’t want it to. It’s just that I have a lot of them, and I didn’t want to just... I know that we’re still kind of early in this, and I just tho-“ Alex cut his ramblings off his a kiss, sighing into it as Forrest wrapped his arms around him and mussed his hair with his hands.

“I would love to.” He whispered in the space between them when they finally broke apart to breath. Alex could see Forrest’s face break into a grin, and the man reached behind him and rummaged in his pockets before pulling out a small chain with a silver ring hanging on the end.

“I didn’t know what size you wore, so I though this might be best in case they were too small, they’re from years ago.” He held out his hand and Forrest let the chain and ring pool there, warm to the touch from being so close to Forrest’s body.

“Thank you so much for today. It means the world to me that you did this.” Forrest shook his head a bit when Alex spoke and leaned over to put a kiss on his cheek. Alex would never admit but he always felt a thrill go up his spine when Forrest did that. It made him feel adored, wanted just for who he was.

“C’mon we should get going, don’t want to miss my favorite act of the night.” Forrest held out a hand, and Alex took it, letting him help him from the edge of the bed. With the other hand, he slipped the necklace on and felt the heavy reassuring weight of the ring on his chest. It sat there as a testament that he was loved, no matter what.

#my writing #my fic #for rin #forlex fic #alex manes #forrest long #buffy long #it's pure fluff

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imagine-young-g · 5 years ago

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FWB to MWB

Hello G fam! It’s been a while but I’m back. I’m not too sure for how long but I am back. A lot has been happening in my life, and I have not been able to be as dedicated as I could be to this page. I hope you all enjoy this story about a gorgeous, normal, single mama that just so happens to be FWB with the one and only Young Gerald.

“Zay! Where are you hun?” I was calling my little sass for sometime now and she just wouldn’t answer.

“Zay….Zaybrie. ZAY!”

“I’m right here mommy you don’t have to yell,” she muttered.

My gorgeous little sass looked up at me while fumbling with the zipper to her favorite panda jacket. I never thought in a million years I would be here. 23years old, rollers in my hair, stressing over a trip to the grocery store, and staring down at my mini-me. I had Zay when I was 19 years old. She was the product of an mentally and sometimes physically abusive relationship. My ex was just not the ish like I had once thought. We were high school sweethearts and he wanted a military life, I on the other hand wanted to embrace the world. If it wasn’t for my pregnancy I most likely never would have made it out. She is my saving grace and literally only reason I haven’t been locked away due to insanity.

“UGH! Mommy I can’t do this! It’s broken.”

My train of thought is broken as my disgruntled 4 year old is completely over the zipper on this damn jacket. I didn’t even know why she wanted to wear this out. The jacket is worth more than gold to this little girl since her best pal G got it for her the last time he was in Tokyo at some hip Japanese boutique. The tag says it was an adult small but by the looks of it, it could have passed for a child’s shmedium. I easily guide the zipper together and with a little zrrrp its up.

“Baby. Why do you wanna wear Panda to the store today? It’s a little damp out, aren’t you afraid of getting it messed up?”

“Mommy we live in the Bay it’s always moist outside.”

Ugh! That word is like nails on a chalkboard for me, but of course G knows this and still decided to teach my 4year old to say this word to completely throw her mother off every chance she got. This cake is moist, my hair is moist. Mommy my skin is moist.” Any chance this little girl got to say it she took it.

“Because Mommy, we’re gonna meet up with Gerry today and I want him to see that I love my jacket.”

She was the only girl I knew in the world that could call him that. Gerry, or G as I like to call him, is none other than the Bay Area kid G-Eazy. I met him about 3 years ago when Zay was barely old enough to walk. I had been working at a local diner, and going to school full time when one rainy Saturday morning a mob of sweaty drunk dudes come barging in at 7am demanding coffee, pie, and whatever grease filled meal they could put in their bellies to prevent a hangover from hell. I was overworked, underpaid, exhausted, and at my wits end; so when this tall jerk of man tried to holla at your girl I was not having it. He tried the whole “Hey Ma!” Come here with one finger bit. I naturally walked over and asked if there was anything he needed. To his reply of “You see I made you come over her with one finger imagine what I could do with two.” I was so beyond pissed I through a glass of ice water and told his ass to cool down. My boss saw, asked me if I knew who this fool was, and fired me when I blantantly said I could give a fuck. As I walked out of the diner I heard loud steps running after me. I being the street smart girl that I am turned around and straight punched this dude in the face.

“Damn ma! First you soak me then you floor me? I gotta know who you are now that I damn near fell for you.”

At that point I lost my shit again. I went on a whole tangent of who do you think you ares and why don’t you fuck offs. I turned around after I thought I gave him a piece of my mind and he followed me asking me all kinds of questions. I don’t know when or how it happened but I began to answer them. We eventually got on the subject of me being single with a kid and how he admired that. He walked me the 8 blocks all the way home to my mom’s house. We exchanged numbers and have been “friends” ever since.

“Ohhh I see. You’re trying to look cute for Gerry?”

“No Mommy, you’re trying to look cute for Gerry since you got the rollers in your hair. I just wanna say thank you for my jacket.”

Damn my kid caught me. So what if I wanted my hair to look a little nicer than normal for when I saw G. I mostly wanted it to look nice because it never fails that when I’m with him we end up on some tabloid. Everyone pretty much knows that we just fuck each other, I mean even my own grandmother knows it. It turned into that after a drunk night I went on tour with him and Zay. I’m not sure what came over us but as she slept in my bunk I was in the back of the bus with G.

I’ll never forget that night, not because I have feelings for him, but because he has to be the best lay of my entire life. He had just finished his last number I mean It and every time he said “If I ever said I fucked your bitch…” he would look at me with pure lust in his eyes. He ended the show. Ran off stage to the back where we all followed. Zay was wearing her purple sound blocking headphones on the verge of sleep, but she stayed up to give Gewy a hug. As soon as she got it she passed out. The after party in the back of the stadium was cut short since we had to pile on the bus and head to San Diego. I was shocked when a group of girls that somehow managed to get backstage asked to get on the bus and “rock G’s World” were turned down and told to scram. Everyone began to go towards the busses when G grabbed my hand and guided me through the crown of groupies and photographers. Once we were safely on the bus G made an announcement.

“Yo if any of you motherfuckers wanna be loud go on the other bus. This is the quiet bus tonight. Zay’s gotta sleep and I ain’t in the mood for the bull shit.”

People began to pile of the bus into the other bus leaving only a handful of crew members, G, a few of his homies, me and Zay. Zay was fighting her sleep as we sat on the burgundy couches that were just before the bunks in the little kitchen area. She kept playing peek-a-boo with an exhausted raspy voiced G, but he kept playing with her. She sat on his lap facing him and just kept staring at his face. She would grab at his nose, poke at his eyes, grab his eyebrows, and put her little hand over his mouth where he would then play nibble on her fingers causing her to squeal. She kept rubbing her eyes till eventually she wrapped her arms around G to give him a hug and she passed out. Her little body was completely calm and at peace with him as she let out little soft snores. G stood up and took her to the bunk that was designated for her and I. It was a bottom bunk and he made sure no one was allowed to sleep on the one above. He laid her in the middle of the bunk covered her with her little peach baby blanket, and placed pillows all around her so she wouldn’t roll over or roll off the bunk. He even stuffed pillows on the side facing the aisle so that if she did roll there was a little wall there to protect her. I stood there watching him do all this in shock. He then motioned for me to come see the job he had done.

“She’s a stunner you know. In 15 years we’re gonna have to beat the dudes off with a stick to protect her.”

“We? G we’re homies, I told you I’m not looking to date. I gotta finish..”

“School. Yeah I know. I’m attached now. Just because we ain’t nothing doesn’t mean I’m never gonna be here for her.”

“G you say that but what happens when you keep going and touring? We can’t keep tagging along. I’m almost done with my degree and before you know it, I'll be a social worker working a 9-5.”

“True but come on Caily, you’ll be able to come out sometimes. You and Zay. I want you a part of my life even if we’re just friends. I love this kid.”

I could tell he was being honest despite the alcohol. I just wanted a stable figure in Zay’s life so I didn’t think a rapper could be that (I was eventually proven wrong.)

“Okay G. But if it gets too much, you’re the one that’s gonna have to tell Zay you’re out.”

“Never gonna happen!”

“Never say never.”

“I’m telling you it’s never and I never lie.” He smirked and bit his lower lip giving me those dreamy brown I want you eyes. I was wearing a cropped When It’s Dark Out T-shirt hand cut by me, some high waisted boyfriend jeans, kicked off the chucks a while ago so I was barefoot showing off my home pedicured black toenails. He on the other hand was freshly showered, hair wet and floppy, wearing a black hoodie, matching sweatpants, socks, and slides. He looked my body up and down again and licked his lips. I ignored this look having seen his crew do it millions of times. I walked back to the couch and he followed. I sat back and sipped on my water as he kept eyeing me.

“What?!”

“Nothing Cails. I just like looking at you.”

“That is so corny my dude,” I laughed-talked at him.

“I’m serious Cails.”

“That’s just the whiskey talking you dork.”

“Nah I’m dead serious, you’re just too stubborn and think your un-loveable to notice.”

“Oh so now you love me?”

“Yeah I got a love for you girl. You’ll never reciprocate it so I’ll just keep it,” he put his finger to his lips motioning a shhh.

“Hmm okay Gerald.”

“I like it when you say that. I like how you say it, Gerald,” he attempted to mimic the syllables like I say them.

“You’re drunk my dude.”

“Yeah maybe. But I know when I’m sober the pain feels worse because I can actually feel it.”

He looked at me with these soulful, sorrow filled eyes. I could tell in that moment he meant every word. He could tell I picked up on this vibe and leaned in. I felt the tip of his nose touched mine and pulled away. I quickly stood up.

“I better go check on Zay.”

As I walked toward the bunk he followed me. I was about to pull the curtain open when we grabbed me by my arm and spun me around. I was now looking up at him and seeing the intense lust in his eyes. His left arm was still holding on to mine as his right hand cupped my face and pulled me in for a kiss. His lips so soft and so sweet against mine as he just held them there against mine. He pulled away to see my reaction. I couldn’t move. The kiss stuck my feet to the floor causing me to be planted their hoping for another. He kissed me again this time with more passion making me kiss him back. We stood their in a full on mack sesh until he pulled away and walked towards the back of the bus where he sleeps. In that moment I had a choice. I could either crawl into the bunk with my daughter or run to the feeling I have been missing my whole life and give in. Before I could give it a second thought, I began to run towards him.

“Gerald.”

He turned towards me just in time for me to put my arms around his neck and kiss him. Our lips crashed against each other causing each of us to go completely numb and breathless. He mumbled “jump” while still in my kiss. I hopped up wrapping my legs around him as he began walking me towards the king size. He pushed the button to shut and lock the door behind him as we kissed. He plopped me on the bed and pulled his hoodie off over his head with one hand like all men do. I could feel myself getting wet as he then pressed his freshly bare torso onto my body. He gave me another hard passionate kiss, this time sliding his tongue over my bottom lip begging for me to allow him in. Begging to go deeper and begging to explore me. I gave in slipping my tongue into his ready opened mouth. This passionate kiss cause a throaty moan to escape from him. We kept kissing as he grinded his hips into mine, causing me to whimper. He began to kiss my neck and work his way up to my earlobe as his hand went up my shirt pawing at by titts making me moan and getting my wetter by the second. He pushed up my shirt and bra exposing my D cup titts and flush pink nipples. He admired them for a moment before giving one of my nipples a teasing lick. He stared deep into my eyes as he did this, then he began to suck on my titt as he rubbed and pinched my other nipple. I began to grind up my hips to meet his as he sucked all over both titts leaving raw love bites around each nipple. He licked at each bite causing a tinge of pain to go through my body. It was a good pain, a needed pain. By this point I was completely soaked and ready for more. He kissed down my faintly stretch marked tummy as he made his way take of my pants. As he pulled them down, I sat up on my knees, pulled my bra and shirt all the way off, wrapped my arms around him and kissed. His bare chest against my titts felt absolutely amazing. I could tell he loved it just as much as I did by the way he grabbed me closer to his body. He then brushed my hair away from my neck, then gave my hair a nice pull as he kissed my sweet spot on my neck just before my ear causing me to moan out and claw my nails along his back, and through his hair. As I clawed over him he moaned in my neck shooting warm air against my ear driving me wild. I turned his body to where I could lay him down on the bed. I pulled away from the kiss, gave him a good sloppy lust filled one ending in a lip bite before playfully pushing him on his back. I began to kiss his neck, and bite on his earlobes driving him wild. Doing so caused me to give my ass a smack shooting a tingle up to my nipples making my pussy twitch. I kissed down his body having him release little moans. I sit up on my knees again, giving him a lustful look as I began to rub his cock through the sweatpants. I pull them down revealing a beautiful pink hard cock dripping with precum. I pull the pants all the way down, removing his socks as well and begin to place kisses all over his cock as my hand caresses his balls. His breath begins to deepen as I kiss up his long thick cock towards the tip. I hold it up and look deep into his eyes and place it in my mouth. As it enters my mouth I hear his breathing change again. I wrap my lips around half of his cock and suck as I bob my head up. A moan escapes his now parted lips as I repeat the process a few more times, taking him deeper into my mouth each time. I suck up with a pop and tap the tip of his cock on my tongue.

“Ohh you dirty girl. You look so good with my cock.”

“MMMMhmmmm,” is all I let out as I take his cock back into my throat, the hum causing a vibration around his cock making him close his eyes as I begin to make oral love to his perfect 8 inch cock. Up and down, up and down, I can feel him throbbing as I bob my head taking him as deep as I can go without gagging. Ever so often I shove him all the way down past my tonsils to the point where is balls are practically in my mouth. A breathy “fuck” is the only thing that escapes his mouth each time I deep throat him down. I laid there on my belly sucking his cock for a good solid 5 closer to 10 minutes when he stopped me.

“MMMBaby stop...get over here.” He seductively growled as he pulled me up towards his face. I had my legs on either side of his body as he pulled me in for a kiss.

“HMMWhat’s wrong you can’t handle it.” I asked him as I placed kisses on his lips, along his jawline, and towards his neck.

“Uhhbaby I can it’s just I don’t wanna cum in your mouth.” He then guided my head back into the position where he could kiss my pouty lips. He slipped me the tongue and gave me a passionate french. I could feel his tongue dance with mine in my mouth in the most sexy ass way. I wanted to be cheesy and ask him where he wanted to cum but I couldn’t break from that kiss. We stayed in that position kissing like that for a while. During that time I guess I had slid down his body because I could feel the tip of his cock brush against my thong covered taint and swipe along my ass. When he felt that he let out a moan in my throat driving each of us wild causing me to grind down and hump his cock. I could feel his tip perfectly glide against my clothed clit sending waves of desire through both our bodies. I humped down on him only 3 times before he flips me over and in a lustful rush kisses down my belly to the line of my thong. You couldn’t tell how wet I truly was through the black cotton material until he rubbed his entire hand over my pussy.

“Damn Caily you’re so fucking wet.” He rubbed up and down admiring how flooded my pussy got at the sins we were committing. He quickly pulled thong off over my feet and discarding it God knows where. He began to give hard bites and kisses all along my thighs teasing my core with his warm breath. He gave a kiss right above my clit causing my hips to thrust up towards his face.

“MMMBaby you want this huh? You want me to eat this perfect pussy?” He looked me dead in the eye begging for permission and I nodded allowing him to begin his work. He licked a long straight line from my taint, between my wet lips, up past my clit leaving a kiss at the top of my pubic bone. This sent shock waves through my body. I grabbed my tits and began to toy with my nipples. This view caused a reaction in Gerald I never saw before. Like a rabid beast he began to devour my pussy. The combination of harsh licks, and clit sucking had me grinding my pussy in his face. He loved it. Every grind he would smirk and stick his tongue in my pussy, flattening it out once inside filling my pussy. Then came the fingers. He started by teasing my entrance with two fingers as he sucked my clit blowing my mind. He just kept toying with me as he sucked up all my pussy juices and grinding on his perfect face.

“Damn G finger me please.” I begged at this point. His face was in complete shock as he shoved his two long fingers up my pussy causing me to moan out and bare down hard.

“Fuuuck Baby you’re so damn tight.” My leg was now resting on his back as he made this statement. He was staring at my pussy in amazement as he now was knuckles deep in. He used his thumb to swipe my clit as he just completely finger blasted me. I was a wreck just moaning and grinding my hips feeling how amazing his fingers felt inside me. Then...he started eating my pussy again. The combination of licks and clit sucks while he was knuckles deep had me a complete mess. I was grabbing him by his hair begging him to stop or even slow down but he wouldn’t. This was right where he wanted me. He kept going and sucking to the point that I felt my entire body crash as I came. I came hard on his fingers, bearing down and trying to run away. He held me by one leg and kept sucking and finger fucking. It wasn’t long before I came again. I was a wet shaky mess as he began to slurp up all my juices. He pulled his fingers out of my pussy and I could see how wet they were. He lapped up the rest of my juice as I shuddered. When he reached my clit, I had to pull away because damn it was sensitive. He smiled as he sat up on his knees. I sat up just as he was about to lick me off his fingers. I grabbed his hand and began to suck my juices off his fingers. His face was priceless as he let out another “fuck” under his breath.

I kept licking and sucking his fingers as he watched for a seductive minute until he crashed his lips into mine. He wrapped his arms around me pulling my onto his thighs. I could feel is cock beneath my pussy just begging to enter in and explore me. I began to grind my hips down as he smacked my ass playfully. I little out a whimper causing him to smack a little harder. I moaned into his kiss as he now smacked my ass even harder but still the reserve in fear of hurting me. He began to maneuver his body as if he was going to lay me down, but before he got the chance I reached in between our bodies and guided his cock into my tight, dripping pussy. I looked him deep in his eyes letting out a gasp and creating a hitch in his breath. I slowly began to work my hips down causing his cock to climb deeper into my pussy with each small bounce. The slew of curse words spewing from his lips as I rode that fat cock, moaning and whimpering wanting him deeper yet. As I bounced up and down, his mouth met my tits and began to nip at my skin and nipples. I began riding sloppy as my legs were ready to give out due to the sheer pleasure being shot through my core and the hot spark of pain from my tits as he sucked my nipples to the point of being raw. He laid me down on my back, making sure to give me a deep long kiss as he began to pound into my pussy.

*Smack. Smack. Smack* is all you heard as he drilled his 8 full inches deep into my guts. With every thrust I whimpered into his kiss. “Fuck fuck fuck!” Is all I could let out as he fucked the absolute shit out of me. He went from kissing my lips to sucking on my neck as I clawed his back causing him to growl in pure sadistic pleasure. I don’t know exactly what he did, but with the slightest swivel of his hips, he was now hitting my spot at a different angle. Before I could even let out a sound I was seeing stars. It was the fastest build-up of electric butterflies sending currents down to my core releasing what felt like a million volts of earth shattering electricity throughout my body. He could feel me cum as my pussy began to drip even more and my walls strangled his cock.

“Fuck babygirl you’re so damn good. You like how I fuck this tight ass pussy huh?” He growled those words through clenched teeth as I begged him to keep fucking me just as he was. He swiveled his hips again sending another orgasm through my body. I bared down a little too hard and almost pushed him out.

“Nah-uh don’t you fucking push me out. Open up that pussy baby,” he begged. I did my best eventually coming down from my high in the slightest allowing his cock to go balls deep again. I knew he was getting close as his “fucks” were more frequent and his stroke was getting sloppier. I wanted him to cum so bad. No just because I didn’t feel like I could take another orgasm, but because the giver in me wanted to see pure pleasure rush over his face as he busts. I knew exactly what would push him over the edge. I reached down as far as my hand could and began to fondle his balls.

“FUCK! Oh my God, damn baby! Yes!” He was so close still. It was time to completely go for the kill.

“Cum for me Gerald! Bust that fat load in my tight little pussy. Come on baby fill me up with you cum! Nut in me baby!”

“Fuck you want that baby?!”

“Yes baby! Bust that nut all up in this pussy!” He began to grunt and thrust into me harder than he had before. I could feel the electric butterflies coming again but this time right from my pussy. I started to grind my hips the opposite of his hitting my spot a completely different way sending me to the moon. I squeezed his balls as hard as I could without hurting him and that was it. My body began shaking as I heard him pleading to God and calling out my name. I could feel his warm cum fill me up inside as he kept pumping and I kept grinding. My legs began to shake and before I knew it my entire body was a moaning quaking mess beneath G. Him seeing this decided it would be a good idea to reach down and rub my clit. If felt my whole body clamp up and a rush began to rise from my pussy. I felt like my clit was about to explode when all of a sudden, a shock wave left my body and squirt burst all over his cock. He was so turned on he kept thrusting until neither one of us could take it.

He pulled out his cock and fell next to me completely spent. I was still quivering feeling the aftershocks hit my clit like waves after a tsunami. I was a panting fool with no words being able to form out of my mouth. I could hear him next to me at a complete loss for words. With neither one of us speaking, he turned the ac down low and removed the top sheet I had completely destroyed, only leaving the fitted and the comforter. He covered the both of us and pulled me close to spoon. Damn, not only could he fuck but he wanted to cuddle too? I was getting comfortable and about to doze off when my mind went straight to Zay.

“Oh no Zay!”

“She’s fine.”

“How do you know G? She’s probably awake crying for all we know.”

“No she’s fine. Trust me!”

“G let me go check on her.”

“Listen you could do what you want but I know she’s ok.” Before I could protest he was rolling his body over towards the night stand. I assumed he was about to whip out a blunt and smoke it up, but instead he pulls out a video baby monitor. There she was. My little baby completely zonked out and snoring away.

“I put that in the bunk just in case you wanted to sleep in the bunk above her. I wanted you to have peace of mind and to rest easy.”

I could not believe how incredibly sweet he was. I ended up staying the entire night with him, fucking him one more amazing time before showering and going to lay down with Zay. Ever since then we had been fucking around whenever we got the chance. It was good for us. I didn’t have to worry about a random guy coming in and out of Zay’s life, he didn’t have to worry about a commitment. In the end we were just two friends with needs that could go to each other no matter what. We were both damaged so this worked for us.

*CHING CHING*

“Yay Gerry’s here! Gerry’s here!” I opened the door and there he stood. All 6’4” of him wrapped in leather. Smiling so big you though he won a Grammy.

“AHH Zay Zay! *muah* What’s up lil mama?” He wrapped her up in a big hug squeezing her like she was his own. He tickled her sides causing her to squeal in delight that her friend was here.

“What’s up Big Mama?” He said causing me to roll my eyes because he knew I hated that he called me that.

“Yup there she is haha.” He put Zay down and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“You ready to go G? We gotta hit the mall while the kiddies are still in school so we can get everything done.”

“Yeah fo’sho. Let me just take a leak and we’ll bounce.” He made his way to the bathroom and I put on my official G-Eazy letterman from forever ago. I was fixing my lipstick in the mirror when I feel his presence behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered how he missed me in my ear.

“G! Come on, not in front of the kid.”

“I know I know.” We had made a deal that we would never act like a couple in front of Zay in order to keep the peace. We didn’t want to confuse her because she already knew who her dad was and we didn’t want to mess anything up. He gave me a weak smile as he picked up Zay and headed out the door. He had driven his mustang over so I was assuming that’s what we were rollin’ in.

“Really G? I thought we were going incognito?”

“We are! The black beauty is stealthy and sexy.”

“Yeah Mommy. She’s stealfy and sexy.”

“G! You look what you’re teaching her!”

“Zay Zay you can’t say that word till your 75.”

“What word?”

“That 2nd “s” word.”

“Sexy?”

“AHHHH it’s burning my ears,” he shouted as he covered his ears. Zay kept trying to repeat the word a few more attempts as he buckled her into her seat, each time causing G to “shout” and cover his ears. Eventually she stopped and we were on our way. We made our way to the mall and began to shop around. G buying anything and everything Zay wanted. He loved to spoil her no matter the cost. He would try with me but I just wasn’t into all of it. We walked up and down the mall for what seemed like 10 years. We bought snacks along the way but I was so hungry nothing was helping. We eventually stopped for a pretzel at a kiosk outside of a jewelry store in the mall. We were eating the salty treats and drinking the tart lemonade when Zay made a discovery.

“Look Mommy! Look at the pretty rings!”

“Yeah baby they’re pretty huh?”

“You should by one mommy!”

“No Baby mommy doesn’t need one.”

“Why Mommy?”

“Because Baby, only engaged people get those rings.”

“What’s engage?”

“It means people who are getting married.”

“Gerry you should buy one for my Mommy so you can get married!”

“No he shouldn’t Baby now come finish your pretzel.”

“Come on Mommy! You would look so pretty with one.”

“No Baby. Come sit down!”

“Please Gerry! Buy one so you and mommy can get married and have another baby, and you can live with me in my room and and and…”

“Zay! No enough. Now come and sit down.”

“I would Zay Zay but you’re Mommy won’t let me buy her one of those.”

“Why? Mommy why are you so mean?”

“G?! Seriously? Shut the Frick up!” I shot at him between clenched teeth and rage filled eyes. I could not believe that he had just said that to my 4 year old! Especially after all the talks we had about this. He asked a few times about why not? Why not? It’s like because dude! We can’t! I could feel my blood boil as Zay went back to eating her pretzel. I could tell G knew I was beyond livid because he wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. His jaw was clenched like he had something to be pissed about. We finished our snack in complete silence and G was so gone mentally even though his body was there.

“Come on, let’s get you guys home.”

“Gerry! Can we go to cheesecake house and get food? I hungry!”

“No baby we just ate.”

“No mommy we ate a pretzel, not dinner. Come on Gerry? Please?!” At that moment my stomach growled causing both Zay and G to look at me.

“You good?” He asked slightly concerned.

“Yeah I’m chill.” I coldly replied not making eye contact at all.

“Come one let’s go get you some dinner and call it a day.”

“Nah for real. It’s good G.”

“Nah we going and then we’ll call it a day.” He said with a little more force behind his tone. We walked to the car and G put all the bags in the trunk. I strapped Zay in and I could feel him staring at me as I did so. Normally he would make some joke about how good my ass looked but he was so beyond pissed he didn’t say a word. He zipped through traffic like a bat out of hell, white knuckling the steering wheel until we arrived at the restaurant. He handed the keys to valett, took Zay out of her seat and walked into the restaurant. I followed behind him and we were sat at a table in the back. G ordered some pasta dish, and Zay copied him ordering the kids version with chicken. I opted for some fettuccine and shrimp alfredo with a small salad. Zay sat next to G eating away and playing with him the entire dinner. G ignored me and continued to eat with Zay. He didn’t even bother me for a shrimp like he always does, instead he said:

“Ooh playing it safe now yeah Cails.” He never called me Cails unless he was pissed. Zay picked up on it but kept trying to lighten the mood. She kept poking G saying “tickle tickle,” getting him to fake laugh. I ate my meal in silence as the two of them carried on. Zay eventually ordering oreo cheesecake off of the pig girl menu so her and Gerry could share. I sat there continuing to be ignored till Zay quieted down. G finally cooled down enough to talk.

“So why did you blow up Cails?”

“We’re not talking about this right now. Not in front of Zay”

“She’s about to pass out soon then we can talk. Because we are going to talk.” He was right. It didn’t take but 6 minutes before she was completely passed out in the booth. It was now fair game. He looked at me and I had nothing to say.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“There is nothing to say? We have a good thing going why ruin it?”

“Really? You’re ok with what we got?”

“Yeah don’t ruin a good thing?”

“We’ve been fucking with each other for like 3 years and you can honestly tell me you have no feelings for me other than just friends?”

“Yeah. I mean, it hasn’t been 3 solid years. You had your girls in between. Besides you said we were good.”

“Only because you never give me a heads up as to what you feel.”

“I told you I don’t feel! I just go. I don’t have time to sit back and feel. I have to do what’s best for my daughter.”

“So what you think by having a loving man who would literally die for you and the kid isn’t the best thing for her?”

“Well if that loving man wasn’t always rolling out then yeah maybe?”

“I roll out to provide and because it’s my passion. Just like you stay behind as a social worker to fulfill yours.”

“She needs stability! You think living on a tour bus or from hotel to hotel is stable? Besides you can’t just decide you want a life with us just because you got a bond with the kid.”

“A bond with the kid? Well Damn? I thought every time I fucked you we had a bond? I’m not just here for the kid! I’m here for you to but you don’t want it!”

“You never let it be known! You always said we were good with how we were. You even had other girls and I had no one else!”

“I had other girls because you never made the effort!”

“I never made the effort? G I literally would fuck you any chance we got! How is that not making an effort? Hell no! You are not blaming me on this one!”

“I have told you I want to be with you multiple times! You keep saying nah we’re good. I always tell you I love you..”

“You always tell me you got a love for me! Never that you love me!”

“Because the last time I told you that I loved you, you didn’t say anything.”

“When did you tell me you loved me?”

“The very first night I fucked you! I told you I loved you and you just looked at me like I was some sad Son of Bitch!”

“I didn’t think you were serious! I literally thought you were saying that to get me to fuck you! But at the time it didn’t matter to me because I just wanted to fuck!”

“It didn’t even matter? Wow. I told you how I felt and it didn’t even matter?”

“At the time I didn’t think you were sure.”

“Well what about now? What do you think now?”

“I think you are just getting over another break up and you’re ready for the next.”

“I literally broke up with her because she wasn’t you. She wanted to settle down and I couldn’t because all I could think about is you.”

“G! You shouldn’t have done that. She made you so happy.”

“You make me happy! You are what I want! What do I have to do to prove..that to..you,” his voice cracked at the end of his sentence. The tears began to flood his eyes and my heart began to flutter. I knew he was being honest, and I knew deep down in my heart that he cared. But was I willing to risk it all. My stability, my job, my life, all of it would be changed if I decided yes. All these thoughts were flooding my mind when I saw movement from across the table. A wooden box was placed in front of me and a huge sparkler of a ring inside.

“Caily. Baby Girl. Big Mama. You are literally the reason I get up in the morning and take my raggedy ass to the studio when I don’t feel like going. I keep grinding so I can provide for you and Zay. Yes it’s my passion, but I would give it all up tomorrow to have a stable life with the two of you. I want to go to bed with you, wake up next to you, and be in your presence for the rest of my life if you will have me. Caily Rhiannon Zavalos; will you marry me?”

I sat there across from him with tears in my eyes and warmth in my heart. I wanted what he wanted but how could I ask him to give up his entire life for me? How could I give up my entire life for him? How did any of this make sense. Before I could say a word I heard the sweetest little voice:

“Mommy?”

I looked over to see Zay’s sleepy eyes wide with happiness at the site she saw. In that moment I knew that I would have to give an answer. Say yes and give Zay the family she deserves and finally find happiness for myself; or say no to save G from losing out on his passion. But which answer was the right one?

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