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thefriendlyferretwriter · 2 months ago

Text

Weasel

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!F!Reader

Summary: A back and forth with the infamous Fred Weasley sends the two nemeses into a back-and-forth that lands them in detention, where both their frustration and anger send them into a deep argument full of insults, tension, and revelations.

Warning: LONG, 8k words, lots of scene cuts becuz a LOT happens, rivals to lovers (not really, Fred's obsessed with reader and is a little shit), boy pulls on the pigtails of the girl he claims he dislike type trope, was forced to give reader at least a last name, same for her best friend ( went with one of the most generic name Tiffany), Fred being a little shit, argument, tension, reader is unhinged

A/N: Fun fact about this fic it almost included a Pygmy Puff before I checked and discovered that they were created by the twins for their shop and since they are still students I had to go and swap it up with a baby puffskein. No idea how to describe that fic, there will definitely be multiple parts, enjoy!

There are no other places like Hogwarts.

The scenery, the castle's secrets, and the yearly competition between houses are something to behold.

But what might be icing on the cake is the library. The place where I can lose track of time all the while learning about the magical world.

The library has a hush rule but you can't help the coughs, the few ink pots falling to the ground, or even the giggles here and there but it doesn't bother me one bit, it even helps me focus as I enjoy yet one more day in the castle.

"Hi there Raven."

And there goes my enjoyment.

With a roll of my eye, I direct them toward the annoying voice belonging to none other than Fred Weasley who stands there with his satchel on his side leaning against one of the book-filled shelves.

"Weasel," I acknowledge him with a sigh looking back down at my page.

"Weasley," he corrects drily.

I brush him off as I finish my inked sentence and wait for it to dry before turning the page and asking him what he's doing here.

He leans on the table by his hip and crosses his arms inclining his head towards me, "What is it to you?"

"You being here is a bad omen so either you're here to sell your stupid stuff to the first years," I say glancing at his sachel for a second before looking back down at my work, "Or it involves annoying me and I'm having a good day to waste it dealing with you today."

I don't look at him and instead focus on my next sentence when I hear some shuffling and a piece of rolled-up parchment drops next to me that I recognize all too well.

"You must be kidding me," I groan snatching the parchment from the table.

"Unfortunately no. McGonagall benched me and said that if I wanted to stay on the quidditch team I needed a tutor."

His speech makes me groan as the lines reiterate his rant in a distinguished manner and is signed at the bottom by Professor Flitwick.

"McGonagall sent me to Flitwick who recommended you. Said you needed tutoring on your record."

I let go of the paper and join my hands together placing my thumbs on the base of my nose to try and diminish the incoming headache.

"Soo," he draws out attracting my gaze, "See you later, I'll be waiting for your owl."

I see him walking backward, all cocky as he dares to wink at me before turning around and descending the spiral stairs.

I audibly scoff and slam my notebook closed.

Yet another day ruined by that damn Weasel.

"He's a pest."

"You're exaggerating again," she laughs at me standing up from her seat.

"No, I'm not!" I say shoving the last book in my bag as class just ended, "He's obnoxious and annoying and a nuisance to my peace," I stand up and follow right after her.

It's been a few days since my unfortunate meeting with the least likable Weasley in the library and the meeting with Professor Flitwick and McGonagall this early morning couldn't have gotten any worse since no amount of pleading on my part could get them not to assign me with him. As a supplement I had the redhead walk in on me pleading which had him reveling at my misery digging me into a deeper foul mood.

"He's a funny guy that sometimes goes too far," she says pushing a chair that wasn't tucked under its assigned table.

"He's the bane of my existence," I say full of venom.

She laughs walking toward the classroom's exit," That's romantic."

"No, saying someone is the bane of your existence isn't romantic."

"I'm sure you could turn it into something romantic, like a poem or a book about forbidden love," she daydream walking through the door.

"You read too many romance books," I say stepping outside the classroom when I freeze and feel like I'm going underwater as my body is iced out for a moment.

It feels as if I've been hit with glacius but I'm able to use my voice and squeal in shock as the feeling subsides and I'm brought back from my shock by two giggles.

I see two first-year Gryffindors laughing nervously before they simultaneously decide to run away, one of them letting loose on her wand that was levitating the bucket letting it fall on the ground with a loud clash.

I'm left in the middle of the open hallway surrounded by classmates who just exited their class.

The wind hits me and I feel my body shiver before I look up at my friend whose mouth is covered by her hands in surprise.

I hear it.

The annoying infuriating sound of distant laughter, one I cannot mistake for another.

My eyes zero on him sitting on the transfiguration courtyard's tree clutching his stomach as he laughs balancing himself on the branch.

"You were saying?" I ask her rhetorically still dripping in the pink-colored jelly-like liquid.

She lowers her hands and approaches me slowly trying to wipe my face.

I feel the bubbling of rage making its way up my throat with my breathing taking up seeing him seated up there on the branch looking like a king sitting upon the throne of his buffoonery surrounded by his brainless friends, or rather, George's brainless friends and it makes me snap.

I push her hand away and stomp my way through the hallway onto the courtyard's grass toward him.

"Weasley!" I yell as I march to him.

"Oh, now she remembers my name," he laughs out loud for his twin and his friends to hear as the number of students stopping by increases.

He slides off the branch with ease and starts strutting to me with this damn cocky smile.

George stands up from his leaning stance on the tree, "Fred," he says.

I don't know if it's a warning or a scolding but his intent doesn't matter to me.

My hearing is replaced with the beats of my heart drumming in my ears as my face feels as hot as lava.

My steps get bigger and bigger and the closer his infuriating smirk approaches, the rage escapes me as my hand swings back and closes into a fist before landing in his face mid-step.

The audible hit is met with a groan and while I'm far too small to send him to the ground with a punch it does send him swaying back and hunching over.

In a second George jogs to his twin and hands him support grabbing his elbow as Fred's groan turns into another one of his annoying chuckles.

"You see how she hit me?!" he shouts looking delighted by the situation before he lays his gaze back on me with a bit of blood on his teeth.

His smirk falls and I believe for a moment that I finally did it, I finally managed to instate fear in this jackass before I realize his gaze moved from my frame to someone behind me.

The buzzing in my ears ceases and my hearing comes back to me as the grass crunches under one's weight indicating someone approaching.

A cold sweat travels through my body when I turn around and spot none other than Professor Hooch standing tall in front of us.

By instinct, I take a step back and bump into Fred before jumping aside as if he burnt me which isn't far off as my knuckles are calling out for help burning and tingling from the impact it had on his cheek.

She sends us both one of her infamous hawk looks that could petrify Dumbledor himself, "I presume that display of violence can be explained by your appearance?" her pointed look is directed at me.

I try to wipe the substance off my hair with an annoyed huff.

Her eyes travel to Fred whose head is pointed down grabbing his chin and messing with his mouth moving his jaw from side to side.

"That rewards the both of you with an hour's detention," that answer makes him groan and I point at him with outrage.

"But he-!" My disbelief doesn't reach her before she cuts me off.

"You're both dismissed. Mr.Weasley, I advise you to escort your brother to the infirmary to tend to his injury. As for you, I advise you to go clean yourself up before heading to the infirmary as well, perhaps at a time Mr.Weasley won't be there," she finishes her sentence looking at George who acknowledges her insinuation with a nod.

Still clutching his jaw, Fred is led away by his elbow by George as Hooch walks to stand in front of me, "While I understand your frustration I did expect better from you than violence."

My eyes widen and the breath I take in is cut off, "He-"

"This isn't about Mr.Weasley's childish behavior, he will receive his punishment either way. What disappoints me is that you could've avoided any punishment by reporting this to me or any other professor in the area but instead, you will ecope of an hour's detention as well."

She says shaking her head as she walks away leaving me standing here in the courtyard covered in the substance and an aching fist that doesn't even feel satisfying knowing it didn't teach the jerk anything.

"Why is it so windy today?! I thought it was supposed to be sunny!" I complain trying to be louder than the wind.

"No it's supposed to switch all day, look," my friend says motioning to the daily prophet in her hands bringing the paper closer to my face so I can see the weather section indeed announcing an insufferable change of weather all day.

"You can still spot the puddles from the rain earlier," Luna Lovegood points to the Quidditch pitch where the grass is still two shades darker and the random puddles of water stir with strength from the wind blowing.

My venting is interrupted by a loud collision that sends me twisting around back to the pitch to see Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teammates fighting over the quaffle like rabid dogs in what is supposed to be an amicable match as a form of training.

"Remind me again what's the point of an amicable match if there is no amicability?" I ask turning to face them just to miss the apparent goal from a Gryffindor through one of the Ravenclaw's lowest hoops.

I groan when I recognize the face of the person who managed to pass our defenses as he basks in the small victory.

"What is it raven?! Can't take in the sigh of greatness?!" he gloats seated comfortably on his broom with his red hair all tussled.

His pretentiousness blinds him and his arrogance leaves him to ignore the whistle suggesting the match continues and leaves a fellow Ravenclaw to score in a flash right behind him. The only indicator that anything happened at all is the small thunder of applause and shouts of approval coming from the small gathering of students who decided to kill time and participate in the amicable match to cheer each team on.

His head whips around and the sight of the opposite team scoring sends him tilting his head back with a groan that he tries to conceal but it doesn't escape anyone's notice.

The karma is enough but it is so rare to catch the weasel in one of his life life-learning moments that I don't hesitate before deciding that I need to add my little grain of salt to the wound.

I have it, I have the perfect response to give him right on the tip of my tongue and I wonder for a second if the smirk grazing my lips isn't a giveaway but my witty taunt is stopped when a broom enters my line of vision.

"See?! I told you your presence would do me good. Look at that, bullseye!"

I'm sure he means no harm, I know him to be humble but the poor lad either didn't see Weasley or simply decided to ignore his presence.

The fact that he is being ignored after being wrecked is sickly satisfying and my smirk manages to widen somehow.

It is clear he simply didn't see Fred as this one's scowl sends him silently flying away in an awkward, one-sided staredown that ends with him glancing at me with an uncomfortable wide-eyed stare, silently asking for help.

I stare at him flying further and further away and only look back when I notice George approaching his twin on his broom.

His frustration is clear and the eye roll along with his head thrown back pleases me a great deal.

The devilish idea is too good and it doesn't take a lot of self-convincing before I fall for temptation.

"What is it Weasel, too busy drowning in your own ego you can't pay attention?!" I shout so my sickly honeyed voice reaches him and George as I tuck my now pastel pink hair behind my ears.

'The concoction should last less than a week. This Flemont Potter was a genius!' nurse Pomfrey said.

The scowl adorning his face fills me with warmth and electricity buzzes through my veins knowing I have the last word for once.

"Nice hair," he tries himself at a desperate dig that does not work as Professor Hooch whistles for him to fly back to the match.

Turning his back to me, he flies back to the center of the field I can't help but laugh realizing that it's the first time he turns his back to me without walking away with the last word.

The whistle is blown and the speed at which each team goes at the other's throat could cause whiplash if one wasn't used to it.

I'm focused on a group of players when my peripheral vision drags my eyes to my friend throwing the quaffle with all his strength leaving another small group of three players to speed away.

Taking a moment to take in his throw he looks back down and waves at me with a smile, satisfied with his play.

I wave back with a grin of my own before he disappears out of my sight as a bludger hits him straight in the back of the head with a resounding thunk throwing him off his broom and crashing to the ground.

I hear a loud yell and realize it comes from me as my body instinctively reacts and bolts toward the pitch.

Professor Hooch is already by his side by the time I run to his limp self.

"Is he okay?!" I get caught off guard by my friend reaching him and kneeling at his side before I do.

I stand there looking down at him in shock as people start surrounding the area trying to take a look at the wounded on the ground when I notice the Gryffindor team lowering themselves on the ground including the culprit.

His quidditch robe swings with each one of his steps as he walks towards the commotion very slowly like in a trance.

"You too bring a stretcher," she says shooing away both a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw player.

I hear George Weasley calling after his brother who has now reached Professor Hooch kneeling on the ground

"Is he okay?"

How dare he. His filthy meek voice asking about his well-being as if he isn't the reason my friend is lying unresponsive on the ground.

That familiar boiling sensation in my chest rises again and I feel my fists clenching by themselves.

Before I can comprehend my thought process I am bolting toward him. Still, before I can reach him George jumps in front of him getting ready for whatever, a whatever that does not come as I am held up by the waist by two Gryffindor players sensing the hostility.

"What is wrong with you!" I holler up in the air struggling with all my might against the hold of the chasers which is useless against the player's strength.

The rest is a blur, George pushes the douche towards the locker room as I follow the stretcher closely to the infirmary.

"If you stare any harder you're gonna be the first third year student here to achieve wandless magic," she chuckles "It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. back down at her textbook.

"False," I utter not leaving the weasel out of my burning stare.

I notice her raising her head from my side view in wonder.

"Granger," I state chewing on my thumb's fingernail.

The sight of him simply sitting there without any consequences under the excuse of 'it's part of the game, nobody can prove there were any malicious intents behind that strike' drives me mad and haunts my head with multiple scenarios of murder that keep replaying again and again.

"You have to let it go. Pomfresh said he'll be fine."

"He didn't deserve that strike it was targeted to piss me off because I got the last word," I say wincing when I realize I bit my thumb a bit too hard and drew some blood.

"It's part of Quidditch, many, many people took strikes to the head."

"Bullshit. A strike to the head during an amicable match? Come on," I roll my eyes frustrated that everybody seems so eager to just brush this incident off.

"I'm gonna start thinking you're checking him out and not actually glaring at him."

"Have you lost your mind?!" I say louder than intended, my head whipping left to glare at her this time.

There is no silence as the Care for the Magical Creature class takes place outside and the lack of chatter is covered up by the sound of wind rustling the nearest tree's leaves and the distant purrs and grumbles of the different creatures in their pen.

"Is there a problem?"

Unlike McGonagall or Snape, Professor Hagrid's tone of voice isn't accusatory but genuinely one of concern. This concern eats at me as the idea that he might believe even for a moment that my words are targeted towards him makes bile rise in my throat.

"No!" is my immediate response to reassure the professor but the rest of my explanation seems to be stuck in my throat as I have a hard time imagining myself explaining to the class that I was just defending myself at the mention of me hypothetically checking Weasley out.

That same person here in the open classroom with a side smirk plastered on his annoying face trying his best not to laugh at me, not because it would be rude but because not laughing at the right time alongside the rest of the class wouldn't be as satisfying as a full-on public humiliation.

I see Hagrid lowering his chalk and I can already foresight him asking what he might have done wrong which is not something you want to ask as a teacher in front of a bunch of ruthless teenagers.

His other hand joins in on the other starting to mess with his chalk making him appear anxious and way less mighty.

The awkwardness doesn't begin to measure to the remorse of having put him in this situation because of my impulsive nature.

"It's my fault!" my friend shouts in my defense.

Looking at her, Tiffany managed to snatch up a baby puffskein and hold it up to Hagrid's sight.

"I put him in her hair and she was afraid he would do a pooh."

The laughs are inevitable but I'm certain the 'do a pooh' will haunt my nightmare.

The mocking is a harmony of taunting and I can only look beside me to glare at her sitting there with the puffskein in hand as I wish he would just 'do a pooh' in her hands this instant.

At least Professor Hagrid seems reassured, smiles as the misunderstanding is cleared up, and turns back around to continue the lesson.

We're sent to different enclosures containing different creatures and are instructed to feed them to create a bond.

"Look at him acting casual as if he didn't send someone to the infirmary with a trauma to the head," I say full of venom seeing him being buddy-buddy with another Gryffindor girl as they try to feed Mooncalf in the open and have a laugh as they are surrounded by the eager herd starving for pets and seeds.

"Will you quit it and enjoy one of the only course that's relaxing here," she scolds kneeling closer to the ground to feed a diricawl who nibs at her finger affectionately before walking past her hand and pitter-pattering to her to lay his head on her chest to receive pats on his head.

"Plus you've already been told we can't know if the blow was on purpose."

"That's a load of bullshit and you know it, he's one of the best beaters here," I say with a pointed look at her throwing a violent handful of seeds towards the rest of the diricawls.

"Did I just hear you compliment Fred Weasley?" she says looking up at me with a teasing smile.

"It's not a compliment I'm just stating a fact, the probability of Weasley hitting someone right on the head by accident at such distance is close to none," I say throwing another handful as my eyes catch a paddock with dubogs in it, one in particular who is devouring the weasel with his bulgy eyes.

There are three dubogs in the small paddock and two of them are cooling off in the dirty pond uninterested in anything else but sunbathing with only their eyes above the murky water blinking one at a time as the third one is eating up Weasley with his eyes.

A devilish idea makes its way into my head. The opening I get is served to me on a gold platter as Tiffany is distracted by the herd of diricawl overtaking her landing her on the ground, surrounded.

My chance is heightened by Weasley's back turned to me talking with his little girlfriend.

I take my chance disregarding any rational thought invading my head. Sneakily climbing over the fence, I crouch and walk toward the desired enclosure. The creature doesn't seem to sense me approaching and if he does he doesn't seem to care one bit licking his eye and pawing the ground with his hind leg.

A part of me wishes I could egg him on and ask him if he wants to nibble on the Weasel's ankles but I'd rather not throw my plan out of the window. Instead, I carefully slide my arm to the latch and pull on it slowly to make sure not to make any noise before giving the door a small push to create the crack that seems to be enough to throw the creature out for a jog as he crashes against the paddock's door.

I don't get to see the seconds before the disaster as I have to hurry back and jump over the fence once again, running back to my friend and free her from the diricawl's clutches giving her a hand and raising her back up as the show starts.

The screams that grace my ears aren't from fear but more from shock as the tall redhead lands on the ground when I finally get to lay my eyes on him. The dubog licks him from bottom to top with the creature's natural dirt and slimey skin rubbing off on him as his Gryffindor girlfriend screeches for help calling for Professor Hagrid who runs up to help in a flash.

The man's height isn't only impressive and intimidating but also a great advantage to grab the massive creature off and drag it back to its enclosure where the other two are still sunk in the water, sunbathing and behaving.

Once shut close, Professor Hagrid grips the wooden bars of the enclosure to gather himself before turning around and helping Weasley up with just one hand gripping the back of his blouse. While he seems shaken up by the encounter, he tries to rub off some of the mud on his face but only manages to smear it looking around at the rest of us.

The reactions vary, some are as shocked as he is and others shrug off their worries and are now laughing at his appearance now that they've established that he is healthy and no longer in danger.

I myself giggle knowing that while I can't get him punished for his action back on the pitch, I get to watch him look like a fool and even up the score. My friend does not agree and lets me know by elbowing me in the ribs making me groan mixing laughter and painful grunts.

Laughter that is spotted by the redhead when his head whips to me before his eyes light up.

His eyes shift from eureka to burning hatred. Shrugging off the hand of his friend trying to tidy him up and storms in my direction.

"It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. The confrontation is cut short when Hagrid once again showcases his immeasurable strength by yanking the weasel back with a tug on his now mostly white blouse and throwing him behind his eleven-foot frame that stands now right in front of me.

"Enough with the both of you!" his voice booms in the open area.

He takes a step back and I can get a peak at the redhead enough to see him huffing and puffing from being thrown around like a doll.

"This is a classroom, not a pub. Now the both of you will walk all the way up to Professor McGonagall's office and explain exactly why I had to send the both of you to her and she will be the one to give you your punishment!"

I look at him now, hair disheveled and his tie undone covered in dirt and mud and slime. He still looks somewhat decent as he pushes his hair back with a huff.

I must look just as messy with my pink hair having been thrown on the ground and I decide to tug at the end of my own blouse trying to tidy myself up and avoid any more wrinkles on it.

"Miss Granger, please accompany those two, you know what to do if they misbehave."

"She tried to kill me!" Fred yells pointing at me.

"Do you have any proof, Mr.Weasley?"

He seems to hesitate for less than a second before motioning to me with his hand in frustration.

"It's logical thinking, she hates my gut and she's crazy!"

"You jerk-!" I bellow throwing myself in his direction before I'm engulfed in the Professor's arms.

"Enough!" He yells once more letting me go only when I stop fidgeting in his hold.

"There is no way of proving the Miss did anything. This paddock's lock has been faulty for a while and after this incident, I will personally see that it is dealt with."

He says as if he was addressing the whole class who is still standing all around us watching the event unfold.

"As for the both of you, you will do as you're told and let Miss.Granger accompany the both of you back to the castle and receive the punishment the both of you deserve for the waste of both my time and your classmates' time."

The tone is harsh and the decision is final.

"I am very disappointed in the both of you. You're worth so much more than this petty rivalry," the man shakes his head walking away.

Those words seem to have the same result on both of us. We look down a bit ashamed before we are ushered away by Hermione as we start the long and silent journey back to the castle.

We both stand in silence, side by side with yet a respectable distance as the two professors stand in front of us with judgmental stares that don't need any words to transcribe their distaste…or is it disappointment?

We were sent to our respective bathrooms to clean up 'as best as you can' while my request to wash off completely was denied by both teachers and so here I stand with the back of my blouse tainted by dirt as Weasley could barely wash the slimy texture out of his own blouse and barely dry it with what I believe might have been a spell.

And so here he stands looking dirtier than me despite the order to clean up.

"Now that the awful stench has been managed I believe a proper punishment is in order," McGonagall says with her hands joined in front of her.

"I agree, my cauldrons are in dire need of a scrub," Snape says with his usual disinterested tone.

Weasley starts protesting and claims that I should receive a harsher punishment for my so-called actions.

"She tried to kill me!" he protests.

"And as I told you Mr.Weasley there is no way for us to possibly prove this claim as Professor Hagrid did not see any of this unravel."

"Just like no one saw you throw that bulger." I bite under my breath.

"Exactly Miss.Hermlock. And I would suggest you speak with your full chest if you have any objection." Mc.Gonagall drily berates me.

"Snape-Professor Snape," he quickly corrects himself, "said multiple times that in such cases veritaserum should be used, and since she's SO confident saying she didn't do anything she won't mind doing this, won't she," he says towering over my side.

"I've always known you were a moron but I never thought you would outdo yourself in front of teachers," I smirk crossing my arms.

"Mr.Weasley, even with Miss.Hermlock's permission, the usage of such beverage on a student is forbidden. I would've hoped that with a father working for the ministry, you out of all of us would remember that."

My smirk doubles in size which I thought would never be possible.

In the end, my smirk is wiped away when we are both awarded two hours of detention with Snape. And as if it wasn't enough the punishment is cleaning the endless potion class's cauldrons.

We're ordered to go clean up, thoroughly this time and go for lunch before being expected in the dungeons for our detention hours.

We arrive at the same time just as the last student exits the class, we are left standing side by side, or more precisely 3 feet away from each other as we walk in right in front of Snape's office where he is seated with his head down to his paper purposely stalling and letting us stand there in awkward silence.

What must've been minutes feel like hours as I try my best not to side-eye the redhead standing silently beside me.

I wonder if I should've refrained from opening that damn pen when I hear those continuous scraping of pen meant to insult us as the dark-haired teacher ignore our presence.

He finally puts his feather back in its inkwell before he stands resting both his hands on his desk, "I believe I don't have to remind you what you need to do during those two hours of detention."

Neither of us answers and that seems to egg him on to stand straight and walk around his desk to stand right in front of us, his hands placed behind him.

"You two will clean every single cauldron here, I made sure none of my classes cleaned their equipment to make sure the lesson will stick and you won't have to keep me company again on such a fine day," he says bending to my height and looking straight into my eyes for just a moment before moving his sight onto Weasley, "At least one of you will learn."

Standing back up his speech is interrupted by strong stomps getting closer.

Turning around, the three of us look towards the class's entrance as we spot for a single second a figure sliding across the entrance and disappearing with a loud thud that sounds painful.

It is the first time I make eye contact with the weasel since the last time we butted heads and it is to share a sour scrunched-up expression for the victim of the fall who we hear grunting in the hallway before the sound of their footsteps echoes once more and we see the face of the one who rushed here most likely to speak to Snape.

He's bent over leaning on the door out of breath.

"Berkshire, if you're done fooling around you may grace us with an explanation as to why you're disturbing this detention."

Still out of breath, Enzo Berkshire huffs and puffs for a few more seconds before settling down still bent over.

"It's Nott," he exhales deeply before breathing in once more, "He and Wood started a brawl between quidditch teams, Hooch told me to come get you."

Turning back to the teacher, his eye roll is noticeable and his silence is an obvious assessment of the situation as he probably is planning what to do now that he is torn between us two and the alleged brawl.

"Alright, As the head teacher of house Slytherin, I will accompany Berkshire and assist Professor Hooch in this conflict."

He points to us, "As for the two of you. You will stay here and complete your detention without any complaints. If you leave before your time is up, I will know and that will reward you an entire week of detention."

Pointing at Berkshire, Snape walks past us and orders him to lead them away and with a flick of his wand makes it known that it is thanks to that maneuver that he'll know of us potentially leaving the classroom.

"Behave." is all he says before walking right behind a speeding Enzo Berkshire.

I wonder if he was referring to the both of us or maybe just Weasley.

I don't get to ponder on that before my thoughts are drawn elsewhere at the realization that my worst nightmare is unfolding before me, I am now stuck with the most insufferable student here for two hours doing the most aggravating task besides cleaning the house bathrooms.

I only get back to reality when I hear him throw his robe and satchel on a nearby station.

Being left alone with him, the task at hand, and the absence of Snape to muzzle the redhead angers me as I frop my own bag and stomp to one of the sinks filled to the brim with dirty cauldrons.

I don't even get to enjoy a full minute of tense peace as the douchebag starts his usual yapping.

"Can't say I'm surprised he would leave me alone with you, Snape has always hated me and it's no wonder he left me with you considering you tried to kill me," he mouths off as always lifting a cauldron from its stove and piling it on top of another one.

"And yet you're still breathing, what a shame." I roll my eyes as well as my sleeves picking up a scraper.

A moment of silence passes and I pray this is the moment he realizes he needs to shut up so we can endure the rest of this detention in mild peace but alas this is a good idea and everyone knows that Frederick Weasley never had one of those in his life.

"Damn. The sorting hat must've made a mistake, maybe you belong with the other psychopaths in Slytherin." He throws both cauldrons beside the filled sink with a loud clang.

"I'm sorry but I'm not the one cladding the scales." I bite back.

"Oh, she has claws," he draws out loudly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask genuinely turning around to face him.

"No, the question is what is wrong with you," He asks back louder.

"Nothing is wrong with me! You're the one who can't figure out when to stop, you're the one who always goes too far and you're the one who went too far once again, so much so that you ended up sending my friend to the infirmary!" I hurl and see him losing that fire that usually overtakes his pupils showing he enjoys egging on people once they are set off.

"It's the risk when you play Quidditch," he tries and fails to sound firm in his statement making me scoff.

"For Rowena's sake, you're still acting as if you didn't purposely throw that bulger at him!" I say running my hands through my hair in frustration.

"I didn't!" he says even less believable.

Done with his excuses I turn back around to give all my attention back to the dirty cauldrons when he manages to slide between me and the sink making me take a huge step back.

"I didn't mean to throw it that hard."

I stare at him, no, I glare at him feeling the urge to punch him again but I remember that it didn't do anything for me the last time and instead opt to let out my frustration by hollering at him and walking away before I make the mistake of punching him and have a Professor magically appear out of nowhere to give me more detention again.

Even when I think I finally win and have him admit to his wrongs he still finds a way to make excuses for himself.

"What were you expecting?! I'm a beater that's what we do!"

Does he really think I don't know what a bloody beater is?!

Is he trying to make me pass off as an emotional wreck because of my appropriate reaction to such injury during a supposed amicable match?!

Any beater whether amateur or professional could agree that either maliciously or not that throw was unwarranted during training.

"There really is something wrong with you," I walk right in front of him, toe to toe, and spite my statement right in his face pushing him aside to gain back access to the sink.

I start scrubbing as my mind throws all the different reasons I despise the fucker. Irresponsible, unfunny, no compassion.

I'm so lost in my spiteful analysis of him that I don't register that my thoughts aren't my own anymore as I unconsciously start rambling out loud.

"An idiot who doesn't even think before taking people down with him," I grumble scrubbing away.

"Come on now it's not like he's dead," He nips throwing down yet another pile of small cauldrons beside me.

"I'm talking about me!" I yell letting go of my current task and letting the pot fall and clang with another one causing a ruckus in the sink.

"Not only is my friend in the infirmary because of you but I'm also stuck with you trying to teach someone who I learned has never been slacking in muggle history before recently."

His jaw slacks open and his eyes double in size like the breakfast sausages I had this morning.

"Wait a minute. You think I'm doing this on purpose?!"

You do everything on purpose! Your dad works for the ministry, he is a Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office employee dammit! If anyone is an expert at muggle stuff it's your dad!" I say as a matter of fact.

"And tell me exactly what would it bring me to purposely be bad at this subject all of a sudden?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe to annoy me more often than usual." it sounds like a question but I know I'm just clarifying the situation.

"You think I'm gonna waste my days stuck with you in the library acting dumb for fun?" he tries to ask sarcastically.

"And why not? Beside the library part isn't that what you do all day anyways?"

The quick wit seems like it struck him as he scoffs with a broad smile.

"If you want to be a failure for the rest of your life go ahead and be my guest but I'll ask you not to take me down with you."

That same disbelief smile disappears and leaves place for a blank look that doesn't often grace his face.

"Unlike what you think, success doesn't necessarily come from academic prowesses." he tries to bite.

"Obviously not when it comes to you." I mock before turning back around feeling satisfied for getting him not once but twice in a row.

The triumphant silence doesn't last long before he dwells in a monologue that I don't bother listening to. Instead, I tune him out and start scrubbing which helps to cover the annoying sound of his voice.

His speech feels like hours long but is probably just a few minutes tangent as by the time my ears recognize his next sentence I'm only done with the first cauldron.

"-With such a nasty attitude it's no wonder Murphy didn't show up to your date."

The cauldron clashes with another as I let it fall back into the abnormally huge sink before turning my head toward the nuisance of my life.

"How do you know about that?" the voice that comes out of my mouth is one I don't recognize.

He pauses and seems to hesitate.

"Heard Katie talk about it to her friend."

"I never said anything about it to Katie, 'matter of fact I never said anything about this date to anyone ever so there's no way you heard this through gossip."

"He told me." he tries again even less believable than the first time.

"Bullshit." I seeth.

It's bluff, while I believe I might know Murphy it's not to say that he isn't just like any other guy and simply good at hiding his real intentions.

He starts ranting about some story I can tell is made up on the spot and it's like the wheels stopped turning and the lightbulb lights up in my head with such intensity that the next words come out of my mouth in a loud realization that echoes his own.

"You did this, It was you!" I accuse him with a rageful glare.

He steps back and rolls his eyes tilting his head back, "Oh my-you know what?! Yeah, I did. I warned the guy and I did well because he deserved better than to be stuck on a date with a stuck-up cunt like you." he finishes his tirade by sticking his index finger in my enraged face.

"You're fucking evil." I spit it like it's a statement everyone agrees upon watching him turn his back to me walking farther away.

My outburst is so intense that I have to take a shaky breath and keep my tears at bay as my better judgment is thrown out the window and I decide to finally pour all my frustration out.

"You know, you always take some sick pleasure in telling me I'm cold-hearted," the beginning of my speech is shakey but I quickly regain strength in my voice to let out all my poison,"But you can't even own up to your own fucking flaws and the fact that you're nothing but a jackass who use your so-called 'pranks' to harass everyone in school because they know better to be friends with an asshole like you who's only friend is his twin because no one else wants to be around you!"

My rant is over and the only noise filling the space is my heavy breathing. Catching my breath I feel hot and can barely focus on anything other than my heart beating in my ears as I feel my boiling blood travel all through my body as I stare dead into the eyes of the one who brought me to such an extent of anger.

When my heart settles and I can finally hear my breathing slow down I can focus solely on him and realize that his stare is dead.

He's not glaring, he's just looking. All trace of anger is gone and he's left staring at me or rather through me with dead eyes.

I seem to have struck a nerve and for once the guy doesn't have a comeback. Instead, I'm rewarded with the shoulder shove of a six-foot-something figure who passes me to walk to the sink and starts scrubbing away…

What the heck?

The feeling of regret invades me for a moment but is quickly replaced by one of annoyance.

Why should I feel regret? It's not like he ever feels regret for the horrible things he does. He never apologizes to anyone no matter how far he crosses the line.

The regret quickly fades and I instead let the small spot of confidence inside me grow. It's the first time I've ever shut the mouth of the biggest jerk there is, why shouldn't I enjoy it as long as it lasts?

After everything, I'm entitled to this. I'm entitled to twist the knife.

I take a first careful step and then a second, more confident one closer to him and the sink.

"Yeah, I might be a cold-hearted bitch. But you're an arrogant jackass who's not even funny." I say more calmly yet still petty.

"Oh piss off!" he shouts throwing the cauldron back into the sink with a smash that I wonder might have actually shattered or maybe chipped one of them.

I jump aside to avoid another shoulder shove and follow him with my eyesight to spot him grabbing his stuff and realize he is trying to escape this detention to avoid my lash-out.

Figuring out his plan I catch up and run past him to stand in front of the door blocking his way out.

"No! No, You called me what you called me and now I get to call you whatever I want!"

I wonder for a moment why he doesn't push past me, for sure his frame can easily overpower mine but instead of crashing into me to walk out of the potion class he instead turns around and throws both robe and satchel on a station with a shout that almost rivals mine.

"Alright then let's go ahead, get it all out of your system sweetheart." He snarls standing in the middle of the class, his arms expanded before he places them on his hips.

"You!" the bitter tone escapes me in a rough huff as I point at him, "Have done nothing but make my life hell since the day I arrived." I start walking towards him, "And for what? I have NEVER given you any reason to hate me and yet I have been the target of so many of your pranks that I started being known as the damn Weasley's guinea pig!" I throw my finger in his direction before it falls back on my sides as I walk slowly but with conviction towards him.

"There we go!" he says faking being proud probably to egg me on in my rant with a sick smirk bending down to my eye level and crossing his arms probably to toy with me and undermine me as he always does.

"You do nothing at school but be a nuisance and waste everyone's time including mine and it's so sick to think that you can't even let others be successful just because you can't achieve anything on your own, it's pathetic!" I'm getting closer, almost toe to toe with the redhead who doesn't take a step back and stays planted where he stands or rather is bent over.

"Come on let it all out," he snarls.

"But somehow I was still stupid enough to think that this time you would have the decency to at least admit you went too far and apologize for hurting my friend but even then you cannot take responsibility as always," I finish my tirade taking my final step right in front of him as our noses brush.

"Anything else?!" he angrily spits in my face with a scowl.

I breathe in harshly wishing I could punch him or clap back like I did before but realize if my rant hasn't aroused all kinds of empathy it is useless to keep calling him names it won't male a difference.

"Yeah, your attempt to make me look ugly by turning my hair pink completely failed because I still look good unlike you," I say sourly throwing a glance at his mop of hair.

He sneers.

His arms that were crossed in front of him manage to travel up and brush strands of hair behind my ears before his fingers slide down and twirl the locks in his hands toying with them.

When I'm done bathing in the hatred coating his eyes I notice I'm not the only one panting when I feel his breath brush my face.

Why is he panting? I'm the one who just rambled angrily for five minutes.

"Got it all out?" he says calmer this time around.

I look at him and my eyes make the mistake of switching between his eyes and lips just a second to see his doing just the same and analyze my face.

We haven't moved from our spot and I don't know why.

"Yeah, I think so," he whispers his lips brushing over mine with each syllable.

He stands back up, his hands leaving my hair and falling back to his side as he brushes past me leaving me to stand there frozen trying to comprehend the goosebumps littering my body and my hands shaking by my hips.

I manage to turn around and see him grabbing his stuff and making his way to the class entrance once more.

I find my voice, less confident than before but still strong enough to try and stop him.

"What are you doing detention isn't over yet!" I begrudgingly state.

"Then I guess I'll get a week's worth of detention!" he announces walking out with one hand clutching his satchel and the other one throwing his robe over his shoulder.

He's gone, and in the newly found silence, I breathe out through my nose and assess what just happened.

Weasley just mocked me, pissed me off and egged me on, undermined me, and left me in a classroom filled to the brim with cauldrons to clean all by myself after toying with my anger, my hair, and…

My hand bolts into fists and my nails sink into my palms as I conclude what I already know.

I hate him.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #ennemies to lovers #rivals to lovers

96 notes · View notes

albatmobile · 8 months ago

Text

parent teacher conferences and other places to meet a pornstar

next: [2] [3] coming soon: [4] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: E | 4.5k includes: cam girl AU, teacher AU, masturbation, public sex, caught, fingering, voyeurism, come swallowing, facial, deep throating misunderstandings, confessions

𓅪 cam girl fem!reader x jason todd, eventual cam girl fem!reader x roy harper, eventual cam girl fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

You hate people your age. Always quick to judge and even quicker to shun.

Kids, on the other hand? You could deal with them.

Kids couldn’t turn their noses up at you, they couldn’t gossip about you and they definitely couldn’t use Google. If they could, they’d find your not so clean history. You’ve never been fucking arrested- none of that shit. No, you needed to make up extra money to compensate for the low paycheck you take as a teacher during the day by becoming a camgirl at night.

It hasn’t been a problem at this school yet, but it always seems to pop up at the most inconvenient times. Eventually, a dad catches whiff of it, their wife gets jealous and you’re quietly let go. This is your third school in four years and you really don't want there to be a fourth.

That’s why you dread running into parents who come to pick up their kids.

You catch this all-telling gaze of a redheaded man from across your classroom. He’s helping Lian with the cupcakes she’d brought in for her birthday today and you quickly adjust your glasses, hoping he won’t recognize you.

The hope is in vain.

Your smile is strained as he makes his way over to you with his little girl and leftover cupcakes in tow. His gate is too assured, his eyes too jovial. So, you do what you do best: ignore the parents.

You bend down to Lian’s level to help her remove the cupcake wrapper from the red cupcake her dad’s given her. “Did you have a good birthday in class today, Lian?” you ask. The little girl nods excitedly, chomping into the dessert with gusto. “Do you have any fun plans for tonight?��

Your question is obviously for Lian, but it’s her dad who responds, “Do you?”

You clear your throat, standing from your squat as you face the redheaded man. This isn’t the first time you’ve been hit on, but it always throws you off guard when it happens.

You shut him down easily, “Grading Lian’s test from today. Isn’t that right?”

Her pigtails bounce up and down. “It was about the different types of clouds in the ‘mosphere.”

“Atmosphere,” you correct her with an amused smile.

Much to your chagrin, he continues on like you haven’t rejected him. “You look like someone I know,” he trails off as if trying to place your face.

Mr. Harper- Roy, you correct yourself, looks to be in his mid-30’s. He has a decent amount of stubble, crows feet grace the corners of his verdant eyes and his hair looks like it used to be a brighter orange than the faded strawberry color it is now. He’s exactly the type of audience you cater to on your porn channel.

“A person you know of,” you repeat his words with a disinterested drawl. You wish the conversation would resolve itself or just fucking end. This beating around the bush shit isn’t for you. “Odd phrasing, but alright.” You need to change the subject and quick. “I’ll be seeing you at the open house next week, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, babe.”

You barely contain your eyeroll as you correct him on your name. “It’s Miss,” you tell him your last name again sternly.

“You’re killing me, Miss,” he says your last name, obeying your correction.

“Tragic, I’m sure. Anyway,” you continue on unphased as you focus on saying goodbye to Lian.

He finally moves out of your classroom but lingers in the doorway. “Have you… Were you ever a librarian?” he asks suddenly.

Don’t reveal anything. Don’t reveal anything.

You calm your breathing. It’s too pointed of a question for him to not know the video that made you famous: a librarian who gets bent over any and every surface in the library.

“I’ll see you next week, Mr. Harper,” is all you respond.

You’re fucked.

➸💋➸

The Sunday before the parent teacher conference, you’re scheduled to stream.

All your content except one video, the one of you as a librarian, is solo streams and uploads, which makes it easy for you to make content and stick to a schedule. The one production video you did required a lot of coordinating and planning in advance. It ended up being a total hassle and, in the end, the money was about the same. That’s why you like your streams. You’re able to wear what you want, use whatever toys you want and you get to pick the location.

The library closest to you is always deserted, especially so on the second floor where the old Fax Machines are stored. The second floor holds records, old newspapers and magazines as well as a smaller collection of nonfiction. Total snoozefest for some, but the perfect public filming spot for you.

The nonfiction section is a separate room from the rest of the second floor and is hidden behind the shelf of vintage magazines. You’ve filmed in here a few times before, but never streamed. This is why you’ve chosen to come in around two hours before they close to eliminate as many opportunities as possible for someone to catch a peak.

You’re giddy as you wave to the librarian who always seems to be behind the counter as you make your way up to your favorite spot. You’re wearing a cotton, white wrap dress, no bra, red thong and heels. The light material shows off everything. Coupled with your signature glasses, you look irresistible.

There’s one desk inside the room, right in the middle that you quickly shove out of the doorway view. The heavy desk is the bane of your existence, especially in your fucking heels, but this way no one can see you unless they literally walk into the room. It’s not fool-proof, but it’s what you’re working with.

Always punctual, you start your stream right on time.

avid_reader began stream

Slowly, viewers trickle in as butterflies stir in your stomach. No matter how many times you stream, you always feel a rush of anxiety as soon as you click ‘Start.’

Private streams are a whole different ballgame.

Though you do offer it, you charge a steep price for private cams. So far, only your top fan has been able to meet that price more than once. The dude isn’t a creep, nor did he have any kinks you weren’t comfortable with and hell, the dude was pretty funny, too. Out of all the fans to get you in private, you’re glad he’s the only reoccurring one.

From his requests, you can definitely tell he’s an ass man. You also know that he likes when you wear clothes like you are today: inconspicuous yet revealing. Though he’d never say no to your lingerie, he always preferred tight fitting, see-through tops and short skirts more so than babydolls and matching sets.

Before you get too into everything, you tease the camera you’ve set up on the desk with your nipples that poke through the fabric. You adjust your glasses that fall down the bridge of your nose as you do so, earning you your first tip of the night.

You like to wait for your top fan to join, or at least give him a chance to, but you don’t have to wait too long before his name pops up.

inmyarsenal: this is gona b gud

Though his typing is horrendous, it easily brings a smile to your face, something he notices and tips generously for.

It’s going to be a good night.

You reach your first goal and slowly draw your tits out of your dress out into the open. Your nipples are already perky as you grasp your hands around them and squeeze. Your nipples poke through your fingers as you jiggle your grip around your breasts

inmyarsenal: someone’s gonna walk in on you babe

You bite your lip, looking toward the empty doorway. “I’ve been lucky thus far.”

inmyarsenal: i want t walk in on u baby. sO good for me

He sends another tip, completing your next goal all on his own.

“Eager today, aren’t we?”

Your stomach flips, knowing what comes next. You shoot another worrying gaze toward the doorway before scooting the chair back a bit from the desk so the camera can see down to your knees as you spread them. Your red thong is on full display for your thousands of viewers.

You pull up on the fabric, leaving the thong to disappear into your pussy lips as you do. You tease a bit longer like this before finally pulling the fabric away and exposing yourself fully.

You spend a few minutes slowly rubbing your cunt until you feel wet enough for what comes next. You tease the egg vibrator against your entrance, noting how the tips come in what seems like every second now. Within a minute, you reach your next chat goal- this one allows the tippers in the chat to set the speed of your vibrator. The more they tip, the longer they get control over it.

You slip the egg inside of you with a breathy moan. You use the silicone string that hangs out to continue to make the vibrator bob in and out of your hole, moving the camera to offer an up-close view of it.

No one in the chat gets a chance to call dibs before your top fan swoops in with a tip big enough to control the remote for over 15 minutes. You both know that you won’t last that long with him on the controls.

He starts off strong tonight, easing you into it for only so long before he ups the ante. Your settings on the app allow your viewers to control the tempo with their own vibration patterns that they create, meaning every single sinful vibration is caused personally by him. It makes it that much better.

Today, however, it’s like he has a personal vendetta against you or something. The way he’s controlling your vibrator, he clearly wants you to leave the library with a squirt stain on your dress. Hell, he’d probably tip extra just for you to film your walk of shame, too, the fucking sadist.

“Fuck,” you hiss. You can’t hold back your moans any longer, not caring how loud you’re being when it feels this good.

One hand teases your nipples and squeezes your tits while the other rubs desperately at your clit. Your legs are spread over each side of your chair at this point, though they’re not much support when they’re shaking this hard.

You’re about to come when you notice him out of the corner of your eyes.

“Shit!”

He’s not the ugliest person to orgasm to, that’s for sure. The man, however, is someone you fucking know.

ABORT! ABORT!

If anything, your top fan seems to pick up that someone’s walked in on you and uses the last few seconds of his control to push the vibrator to its limit. Your hips fly from the chair, arching as you orgasm with a pathetic whine.

You end your stream, shaking and panting, while your come-hazed mind struggles to address the Wayne ward in front of you.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you rush, trying to regulate your breathing.

You’ve already covered yourself up with your dress, but your thong is around your ankles and there’s no nonchalant way to fix it. That, and the large wet stain that now adorns the lower half of your dress from the front and the back.

Luckily, as soon as you ended the stream, your vibrator ceased, though it still remains inside of you.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” the man asks casually, like you haven’t just squirted in the public library’s nonfiction section.

You’re at a loss of what to say, what to do, let alone where to put your come-dripping hands as you stare wide-eyed at the gorgeous man in front of you.

Normally, you’d think it was a pick up line, but no, you have met before. Many times.

Your mother had been Bruce Wayne's elementary school teacher. Each year, you were invited with her to the annual Wayne Gala. Even after her passing years ago, the invitation still came, now addressed to you. Throughout the years of attending, you’ve met him a couple of times, but never much past the standard ‘how are you’ and never memorable enough to even remember his name.

This is a lot more than a “how are you.”

“I don’t really know how to answer that right now,” you admit slightly breathlessly.

Surprisingly, he snorts, “I can grab some towels from the bathroom for you.”

You just nod dumbly, half planning to escape the second he turns his back, half wanting to stick around and see how this all plays out.

While he’s gone, you pull off your thong and shove it in your bag along with the vibrator you pluck out.

Moments later, he returns with what seems like the entire roll of paper towels. He hands them to you, eyes never leaving your face before moving out to roam about in the room over.

You try to hurry up, wiping yourself down and packing up your shit at record speed. You walk into the other room sheepishly, paper towels still scrunched up in your hands as you meet his quirked brow and blank face.

"Thanks," you say, hoping he won't bring it up.

Luckily, he doesn’t.

“So,” he draws out the word. You’re honestly surprised he hasn’t left at this point. “You like nonfiction?”

You burst out laughing, something he appreciates with a small smirk as he turns over a title in his calloused hands. “I just like that it’s private up here,” you tell him your actual favorite genre before asking what’s been on your mind. “You’re Dick, right?” Out of all the Wayne ward’s names, this is the only one that springs to mind.

He huffs, putting the book back on the shelf, “Fuck no.”

“Sorry,” you hesitate. Should you just leave him alone and flee with whatever little dignity you have remaining?

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he sounds apologetic. “It’s Jason.”

That name does sound familiar.

“Jason,” you repeat out loud without meaning to, something he notes with a small smile.

“That’s the one,” he drawls with a deep, gravelly voice. Most normal people would respond with their own name, however you just sit there in your squirt covered dress as he flits into the nonfiction room you’d just been in. Oddly enough, he asks, “Can’t really recall your name either, if I'm being honest, kid.”

“‘M not a kid,” you mumble in embarrassment, holding your laptop case against your wet spot. You’re 25, for fuck’s sake.

“Probably a good thing considering what I just saw,” he jokes lightly, though his attention appears to be on the books in front of him. You can tell his gaze is slightly unfocused, though.

You tell him your name as you make to leave. “Maybe I’ll catch you around,” you say.

His emerald eyes finally lock onto yours again. “Maybe you will.”

➸💋➸

At the open house the next day, all the dads stare at you, while the moms resort to glaring at you.

It’s what you’re used to.

You’re hot as fuck, it’s why you do porn. It’s why men like Mr. Harper think you have a familiar face.

Speaking of, the man’s been well-behaved for the most part. Aside from his lingering verdant gaze, he remains in the back of the room with crossed arms as he leans back in Lian’s chair.

The button-up you’re wearing shows off your lofty cleavage and tucks nicely into your skintight pencil skirt. To someone like Roy, you assume you look like a walking wet dream. Your hair’s up in a bun and your signature glasses as your red heels clack along the laminate floors.

You go over your plans for the remaining half of the year as well as the project and letter the kids had created for the open house. It’s an hour-long event with time left for questions after, meaning you’re fucking drained by the time you’re ushering the last of the parents out the door. Surprisingly, Mr. Harper doesn’t linger, nor does he actually say anything to you. It’s entirely odd, but you’re not complaining.

You need a fucking drink.

You didn’t plan to go to a club. It’s totally not your scene. Somehow, tonight, it feels right.

It’s a seedy place, but the drinks are strong and cheap and it’s exactly what you need after a long day like this one. You’re still in your teaching attire as you settle into the practically empty bar. Monday nights and clubs don’t exactly mesh well, meaning it’s close to dead, but that’s fine with you. You’re just here for a few drinks, then maybe treating yourself to some Chinese food.

You let your hair down, shaking it out as the lanky bartender comes over to take your order.

There’s a man across the bar from you. His face is obstructed by a red hoodie as he asks the bartender for something. If you tilt your head just right, you're able to get a better look at the white tuft of hair hanging prominently in front of his eyes. It kind of reminds you of Jason…

It’s as if he feels your curious gaze on him because his sharp one flickers your way.

Dark green eyes meet your wide ones.

It is Jason.

Do you make the first move, or does-

Before you can finish your mental question, he raises a questioning brow your way as if asking for an invitation to come closer. You grant it, moving your purse over so he can sit.

“Hey,” you say as his hulking form sits down beside you.

“Not feeling nonfiction tonight?” He gestures down to the book you’d been reading before he approached.

"I-" You blush, hating how easily he has a hold over you.

Though you’d only planned to stay for a drink, you order another just to keep the conversation going. The two of you talk about everything and anything. The one topic the two of you keep coming back to is books and he doesn’t exactly let you off the hook for the library.

“Don’t think I’ll ever view that section the same way again,” he admits, taking a coy sip of his whiskey.

“I really am sorry,” you apologize genuinely. “I didn’t know anyone even used that section and I-" you start to ramble, but he gently cuts you off.

“Trust me, I didn’t mind.” You watch as he downs the last of his drink and signs his tab. “You want to get out of here?” he asks suddenly.

You blush even harder. The liquor settling into your system warmly surely doesn’t help any, nor the heat behind his half-lidded eyes.

“I don’t know if I can wait that long,” you breathe, biting lightly at your lower lip.

“You do like public places, don’t you?”

You snort, covering your face in embarrassment, but he won’t allow it. He removes your hands from gentle, placing gentle kisses to each.

“I do,” you agree with a light smile.

“There’s an alley out that door,” he offers in a gravelly voice.

It’s all he has to say to get you up and out of your seat, following behind his muscular form.

His thumb draws light circles against your hand as he holds open the door for you to leave through first. “Shit,” he says suddenly. “You left your purse.”

You look behind you and notice that, yes, your dumbass left it on the seat next to you. Without another word, he leaves you to grab it.

You still have your phone on you and use the camera app to check over your makeup and hair as you wait in the alley for him. You hear a random noise from the rooftops but think little of it as the hooded man sneaks up behind you. His large hands caress you from behind as he pulls you backward against his strong chest.

“Can I touch you?” he asks darkly.

Your breath sputters, wanting nothing more, “Jason.”

His hands slip even lower on your torso, applying gentle pressure as he reaches your lower stomach. “What kind of panties are you wearing?” You can’t help but snort. He must’ve liked the red thong because you feel his dick stir to life when you mention much of the same. “Shit,” he groans when he shifts up your dress.

He runs his fingers along the fold of where your thighs meet your pussy as if to check if you’re telling him the truth.

You hear more clattering from above but can hardly focus on it when Jason turns you around to face him. It happens so fast that your mind’s still reeling from the action as he backs you against the brick wall of the club to finally slip a finger inside your thong.

“Fuck!” you exclaim. You can’t help but buck against his calloused index finger as his body molds against yours.

His lips capture yours in an instant with an intensity that leaves you crying out with want. It’s muffled against his lips as he holds your hands above your head with only one hand while the other focuses on working through your already slick folds. He refuses to touch your clit, which leaves you mewling and struggling against his hold.

It feels so fucking good.

All of a sudden, there’s a loud thump that forces Jason to startle slightly away from your gasping form.

“Ma’am,” out of nowhere, a gruff voice startles the two of you, “are you alright?”

Before you can respond, words are already out of Jason’s mouth. “Arsenal?” Jason asks, sounding entirely confused.

Your head untucks from Jason’s sweaty neck to see a random-ass dude in a costume staring at the two of you. Your mouth is wide as you take in the new form in front of you. Your eyes trickle lower on his red uniform to where it protrudes out around his crotch.

Apparently, Jason’s seen enough. His hand shifts slightly as he moves and you can’t stop the light breath it draws from you.

The costumed man visibly takes in the man’s face as if it’s familiar.

“I thought she was in trouble,” he trails off as he realizes that everything going on here is completely consensual.

They stare each other down for a few more seconds before Jason lulls you back in.

Instead of stopping, Jason’s fingers soon begin again and you resort to hiding your face against his neck as you allow it. He notices the man’s continued presence and smirks down at you. “Are you good with this?” he asks.

You nod, moaning loudly when he rewards you with another curl of his thick finger. You definitely aren’t used to doing this shit for free, let alone for a live audience, so you feel a bit shy. The shyness only lasts for so long before you suddenly grow bolder, throwing your head back erotically as Jason brushes against your g-spot.

Jason nips at your neck, leaving bites and bruises in his wake, but your half-lidded eyes are focused on the masked man in front of you. He’s yet to move, let alone breathe, it seems.

You can't deny that he’s ripped, nor that his muscular arms are doing things to you.

He’s hot.

“I don’t care if you touch yourself.” The words are out of your mouth before you even realize it.

It’s as if the floodgates have opened as the vigilante begins palming himself through his suit. His movements are erratic and sloppy, as if he’s never touched himself before, though you suppose he’s never run into a camgirl in an alley before, not that he even knows.

You don’t even have to try to put on a show, Jason’s really that fucking good. Every moan, every writhe of your body and every shaky word you beg are all real reactions to his skillful hand.

Jason’s hand picks up speed as you draw nearer. His lips catch deliciously against your own as he coaxes your tongue lewdly with his. “There we go,” he encourages you, leaving you to whimper, then cry out as his fingers squelch in and out of your slick cunt. “Just like that,” he says. With Jason and the other man’s eyes attached to your pathetic form, you come, nearly crumbling to the ground as you do. Luckily, Jason’s strong arms catch you with a small laugh, “You alright?”

It’s your turn to laugh, “Fucking amazing.” You bite at the corner of your bottom lip, eyeing the obvious strain in his jeans. “Would you want me to-?”

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes out, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You tantalizingly pull your hair up, something you did in your infamous scene.

Both men watch with slackened jaws as you squat down and unzip his jeans. His clothed cock tents out from the opening of the zipper and you waste no time in sucking at the head through his boxers. Once the fabric is thoroughly soaked through, you pull him out to fully admire his member.

You bite playfully at your lip, staring Jason in the eyes as you spit on his bobbing cock before slowly taking his length down your throat. When you reach the hilt, you moan, feeling the vibrations of it settle across his skin, “Mm.”

“Shit,” he groans and his arms shoot out on the brick wall behind you as if to control himself from fucking into your mouth. “Done this before, babe?” he teases you, though his eyes are completely dark with lust.

“A time or two,” you jest back with an impish smile. Your glasses have completely ridden down to the tip of your nose at this point, something he notices and pushes back up with his thumb.

The action causes a loud groan from the vigilante beside Jason, “Fuck, man.” He’s eagerly fisting his cock at this point, eyes never once leaving you.

“Want to taste her come?” Jason offers him

The moan the other man produces sounds pained, desperate, as he latches onto Jason’s calloused fingers coated with your slick.

You suck more eagerly, watching the whole interaction with fascination. You’ve never done something like this before, but you don’t think you’d mind doing it again.

“You taste so good,” the other man mumbles. You have no choice but to blush around Jason’s thick length, deepthroating him until tears spill from your eyes. “So good,” he mumbles again, completely lost in you.

You swap between teasing and deepthroating until you can tell he can’t take it any longer and attempt to finish him off with one of your signature moves.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-" Jason caresses the back of your head as he empties out into your mouth. He pulls out and splatters the remnants of his come across your lashes.

You blink heavily, turning to the other man as an invitation. “Not sucking your dick, but you can come on my tits,” you say to him.

“Fair enough,” he mumbles, completely distracted as you pull your tits out of your bra.

Your tongue pokes out to taste Jason’s come on your face while your hands squeeze at your tits like you had on stream. Poor dude doesn’t last another 20 seconds before his hot come splatters across your chest with the rest of his load drizzling down into your bra like a claim.

Definitely have to wash that when you get home.

Both men help you stand, though the vigilante takes off soon after zipping his pants. Jason, however, sticks around to walk you to your car, sending you off with his phone number.

When you get home, you barely have time to reflect on what the fuck had gone down in the alley when your laptop chirps oddly. You set down your purse on your kitchen island as you traverse over to your desk. Upon opening it, you find your channel pulled up and see inmyarsenal has left you a $200 tip.

You shake your head quizzically, eyebrows furrowing as you search to see if it’s been a mistake, considering you haven’t streamed since the library. You go to refund it to him only to see the note he’s left with it:

inmyarsenal: have to stop coming by your streams. tAke this as compensation- no refunds :)

A/N: I've been waiiiiting to finishing this fic since last april!!! not super edited if i'm being honest

if you'd like to send me nice things in my ask box, it would make my day :,)

[next] || ao3 || pinned || my ko-fi / tip jar

#reader x roy harper #reader x jason todd x roy harper #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #dc x reader #x reader #my fic: parent teacher conferences and pornstars

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number1jeonginstan · 11 months ago

Text

A/N: I got a little bored, then I thought about fem!Felix and then I got carried away, but damn I need her in my life, like seriously, someone get me her, or fem!Innie and Minho because damn...

WC: 1.5k

Pairing: Fem!Lixie x afab!Reader (WxW, if you don't like it, don't read!)

Warnings: Mommy Kink! Calling Lixie a whore once or twice, Kissing, dildo usage, fingering, oral (reader receiving)

“Hey, could I borrow a pen?” you asked the girl beside you. Her hair was in two small pigtails, freckles adorning her face. She was one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen, her smile radiating, she simply nodded, rummaging through her pencil pouch and finding a pen with a fluffy pompom.

“Here you go” she whispered before continuing to write down what your professor was saying. You smiled back before going back to your own notes.

As you guys were wrapping up, you turned back to her in an attempt to give her pen back. “You can keep it” she grinned, “it looks cute with you”

“Can I get you coffee as a thank you then?” you asked, not wanting her to walk away. “I’m Y/N by the way” you giggled as the two of you walked to the nearest coffee shop on campus. “I’m Lixie,” she said, her cheeks ridden with a slight blush.

“What would you like to drink” you asked as the two of you set down your bags at a nearby table. “Anything with a lot of sugar” she replied as she took out her notebook.

“You got it!”

You came back to the table holding an iced americano for yourself, an iced caramel macchiato for Lixie, and a brownie for the two of you to share.

“Here you go” You placed the cup in front of her as she took a sip you watched as her eyes brightened. “Is it good?”

“So good, how did you know what I like?”

“Just a guess” You placed the brownie on the table, already split in half as you sat down. “I brought this for us to share if you don’t mind”

“Do you like brownies?” she asked as you took a bite of your own. You nodded a quick yes, covering your mouth with your hand as you continued to chew.

“I’ve been told I make the best brownies, if you ever want to come over, I can make them for you”

“Really?” you asked, your expression a bit shocked. “Omg, of course, here give me your number and I’ll invite you over one day”

She handed you her phone as you typed out your number, you didn’t see the slight glimmer in her eyes watching you.

That was how the two of you’s friendship started. From that day, the two of you were inseparable. Whether it be going to the library together, or just getting coffee, or even going out to parties, the two of you were stuck like glue. It was to the point that you both had keys to each other's apartments.

You barely ever put it to use, but since you forgot your laptop at her apartment last night after having your weekly binge-watching session and she wasn’t answering her phone, desperate times called for desperate measures.

You entered her apartment, still smelling the scent of banana bread the two of you made last night as a midnight snack wafting through the air. As you walked to her room door, you heard slight muffles which you didn’t think much of.

She must be showering, you thought to yourself. You heard some whimpers and even the sound of your name, but you were in dire need of your computer, so you pushed past it, opening her door only to see her on her bed, hands pinching her nipples as she was riding a dildo, moaning your name.

“Fuck y/n~ need you so bad”

“Lix?” you gasped, watching her eyes shoot open, she quickly covered herself with her blanket, hiding herself. She slowly popped her head out, too ashamed to even look at you.

“How much of that did you hear?” she whispered, her entire face red.

“Nothing, I promise. Unless you wanted me to hear?”

You slowly walked up to her bed, lifting the blanket off her body, admiring it to the fullest extent. Her breasts were tiny, while her nipples were hard, just begging to be played with. Her cunt was soaking with the dildo still inside it. If you closed your eyes and listened, you bet you could hear the squelching of her cunt around it.

“Baby, be a good girl and get on the floor for me okay?”

She simply nodded, removing the silicon toy covered with her juices. Before she could put it anywhere, you told her to hand it to you, and she complied.

The toy itself was a bright hot pink, like everything in her room, and you felt your lips open at the look of it. She was easily taking this seven-inch thing inside of her. You were about to have so much fun.

She gravitated to the floor, kneeling in front of you, waiting for your command. She was fully naked, her juices running down her thighs. You let out a slight moan at the sight bestowed in front of you.

“Fuck, you look so good, but let’s see how you taste?”

You placed the tip of the dildo at your lips, groaning at the taste of her. You were already getting addicted, knowing that after you had fun with her, you were going to eat her out for hours.

“Taste so good for me baby, so sweet all for me”

“Just for you Mommy” Lixie replied, whimpering at the sight of you taking it in your mouth. She slowly began to press her thighs together, trying to relieve herself. You had come seconds before she was going to cum, stopping her from reaching her high.

“Aww, kitten can’t control herself, can she? She’s just a dumb little girl”

“Yes Mommy, I’m just a dumb little girl, please I need you, it hurts so bad” she whimpered.

You chuckled at this, telling her to get closer as you sat on the edge of the bed. You placed the suction cup of the dildo on the floor. “Be a good kitten and ride it for me okay” she simply nodded, slowly pressing the tip against her aching hole, moaning at the stretch.

“So big Mommy, feeling so deep in my cunt”

“Yeah, my kitten is a little whore, taking such a big dick inside such a tiny cunt”

“Yes, a whore just for you Mommy” she whimpered as she got back up before falling back down, riding it just like you had asked.

“Such a good girl for me”

You bent down a bit, capturing her lips with yours before deepening the kiss, your tongue dominating hers. Lixie began to slow down a bit, too entranced by the way your mouth felt on hers.

“What did Mommy say, can’t you listen to simple rules, baby?” You grabbed her ass, kissing her lips again before slamming her cunt up and down the toy with your help.

“Fuck Mommy!” she screamed underneath you, “feels so good, wish it was you who was inside me” she whimpered, her walls clenching around the toy.

“Don’t worry, Mommy is going to be inside you soon, but first you got to help me” You pulled down your leggings, tossing them somewhere in her room before grabbing her hand and running it along your underwear.

“Look how wet you make me, can you take care of Mommy while you ride your little toy?” you asked as she attempted to paw off your underwear.

“Yes, I can do that for Mommy” she whimpered, the toy reaching a specifically deep part inside of her as she shifted to try and take your cunt in her mouth.

You sat in front of her legs spread open, your underwear hanging off your foot as she dove straight into your pussy.

She was lapping up your essence through your folds as she was pinching her own breasts, moaning into your cunt as she kissed your clit.

She hummed into your clit before slowly adding a finger to your hole. You could feel yourself clench around it, she was so skilled, her finger hitting that gummy spot inside you with just a few tries.

You clenched even harder as she added a second finger, continuing to fuck herself on the cock below her, not slowing her pace down like before.

“So good for me baby, so good for Mommy” you moaned, grabbing her hair in your hands, and pushing her face harder into your cunt.

The two of you were so close, her moaning into your cunt while fingering you while the cock inside of her was hitting all the spots it needed to. It only took another thrust of her fingers and a pinch of her nipples for the two of you to convulse, your thighs squishing her face as a creamy white ring at the base of the cock beneath her came to fruition.

“Fuck Mommy, that was so good” she yelled as your thighs separated from her face.

“Who said we were done, baby?”

#ju <3 writes #ju <3 thoughts #stray kids #skz #straykids x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #straykids smut #skz felix #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #lee felix #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #fem lee felix

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jeonqkooks · 9 months ago

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Can I request first time obs jungkook realized he started to have feelings for oc?

our beloved summer; a drabble

Jungkook likes lavender and jasmine. He likes navy blue sweaters and a perpetually grumpy face, looking a black cat who’s just been disturbed from slumber. He likes gold rings on dainty hands, black nail polish almost always covering neatly trimmed nails. He likes New York Yankees baseball caps on bad hair days.

Jungkook looks for that intoxicating scent of lavender and jasmine wherever he goes, scrunching his nose in distaste every time he catches a whiff of some overwhelming floral perfume on someone that isn’t you.

At parties, he looks for the dainty hands with the black nail polish and golden rings, wrapped around a red solo cup. It always makes him smile widely in delight when he spots you in a corner, talking animatedly with Taehyung and Jimin.

He looks for that navy blue sweater and Yankees cap whenever he’s on campus, even on days where he knows you aren’t scheduled for class or a shift at the library. If he looks hard enough, thinks about you hard enough, then maybe you’d pop up for whatever random reason - to bug a professor into reading the essay you wrote for extra credits, to stop by the campus cafe because you have a massive craving for their watered down chai latte, to show up just because there’s a certain someone silently manifesting that you would.

Jungkook likes pretentious Moleskine journals and 0.7mm Muji gel ink ballpoint pens. He likes the vivid scowl in your voice when he gets on your nerves and the middle finger you always flip him. He likes the tiramisu from that bakery down the street from Taehyung and Jimin’s apartment, just because you seem to like it so much. Hydrangeas remind him of you, so he likes them too.

Jungkook likes the things you like and he’s not sure why. He likes that these are the things that make you happy, that always bring a smile to your face and he likes seeing you smile. He’s almost never on the receiving end of said smile, but he still likes it.

He lays in bed, bored out of his mind and tempted to seek you out just to be a nuisane but he knows you’re in a class right now. He drifts back to what Taehyung said to him last night after he’d show up to the library, thinking he’d get to spend time with you but had found Taehyung instead.

“The whole ‘boy pulls girl’s pigtails’ approach you have going on is painfully obvious, you know.”

Jungkook isn’t stupid.

(Though if you were there at the time, he has no doubt that you would have argued the opposite.)

Maybe Jungkook does know why he likes the things you like. Maybe it’s because whenever they pop up in his head, you’re the one that always accompanies the thought and takes over his mind completely. Maybe that’s why he finds himself thinking about you before he goes to sleep just so you would show up in his dreams too. Maybe that’s why you’re often the first thing he thinks of shortly after opening his eyes in the morning, wondering if he’ll get to see you around that day.

Maybe it’s an explanation for why he feels so warm whenever he imagines your face even when he’s doing the most mundane of things, like walking to the corner store or putting away laundry.

Taehyung was right. Jungkook didn’t stop by the library on a random Wednesday evening because he wanted some bro bonding time. He wanted to come because you usually work Wednesdays, and the idea of keeping you company under the guise of bothering you sounded a lot better than staying home and daydreaming about you.

He then thinks about what Taehyung said before he left, calling him back just to tell him that like Jungkook, you wouldn’t be going home for the break either.

He doesn’t know why Taehyung told him that. Probably because he feels bad that neither him nor Jimin would be here in case you need them, not that you would admit if you needed them anyway. Or perhaps Taehyung was trying to give Jungkook a nudge in the right direction.

What direction that is, he can’t say for certain.

What he does know is he wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear that you’ll be spending the break by yourself while everyone else goes home to their family, because it sounds like something that would make you a little sad even if you’re not big on the holidays. He’s never seen you sad before, but the idea of it is one that he already hates.

Jungkook doesn’t want you to be alone. He doesn’t want you to be sad. He wants to see you smile and he wants to do everything in his power to make sure that you keep your smile, even if it isn’t directed at him.

No, he isn’t stupid. He isn’t stupid but he might still be a little dense sometimes. He supposes he’s known it all this time, known it for months since the second ever conversation you’ve had together. It’s no one’s fault but his own that it took Taehyung bringing it up for Jungkook to realize why the things you like are so endearing to him, why his heart does dumbass little skips to the mere thought of you.

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drkmgs · 1 year ago

Text

Attention

Wednesday Addams x Reader

warnings: Angst

story type: one shot

Summary: Wednesday giving mixed signals to Reader. Reader wants answers. Wednesday kinda regrets the answer she gave, and now she's trying to get Reader back... but she definitely fucked this up...

You have been looking for Wednesday the entire day, and when you bumped into Enid. You didn't hesitate to ask where the girl is. Enid casually said she is in their shared dorm room. Yesterday, you certainly asked Wednesday to meet you at the quad after class. You wanted to talk about her recent behavior.

Clearly, forgetting to meet you is one of the topics you wanted to discuss. She hasn't been paying attention to you at all, and you don't know why. Sure, there is a monster on the loose, two imbeciles pinning over her, and a former student wanted her dead, but you clearly told her if she needed help, you will always be there for her.

You had enough. You aren't even sure why you are so worked up by her behavior. You aren't together, but you also aren't behaving like normal friends. There have been moments where you could definitely say you are more than friends, but now? You don't even know where you stand.

You didn't bother to knock on the door. You just marched inside and closed the door. You see her furiously typing on her Typewriter. You know that she knows you are standing beside her, but she doesn't bother to look up.

"Where were you?" You crossed your arms. She hasn't moved to face you. "Wednesday. I know you have a lot on your plate. I- What are we? We have been doing much more than normal friends do. In those times, I was sure where I stood with you, but now? I have no slightest idea." You exhaled heavily in between your sentences because each of them are dragging you down, and honestly, your heart don't want to know the answer, but your mind need the peace.

"It's not my fault you have been reading my intentions in a wrong way." Wednesday continues to type on her Typewriter and have her monotonous face expression. You scoffed. "Okay. Thanks for nothing, Wednesday." You turned around, trying really hard not to let your tears fall down, and left her room.

After your conversation with Wednesday, you ignored and avoided her like a plague. When she arrived, you would leave. When she is talking to any of your friends, you ignore her. Wednesday would purposely skim her hand over yours to see your reaction, and to her dismay, you would completely move away or find an excuse to leave early.

The avoiding went on until Wednesday couldn't take it anymore. She knew, she fucked up real time and had to fix this. If it's fixable. She marched down the book shelves with her gloomy mood. She stopped and towered over you as you were sitting on the library's floor with a book on your lap.

"We need to talk." Wednesday's voice was monotonous, but if you listen closely, you could hear an unsure tone.

"There is nothing to talk about Wednesday. You made it clear to me that I am nothing to you." You said without looking up at her and continued to read your book. The silence between both of you just grew over time, and when the pigtailed girl realized you aren't going to give in, she walked away with a scoff.

—

"Wednesday, are you sure this is a good idea? I don't think Y/N would be impressed by this." It isn't enough from Enid's disgusted facial expression to describe how morbid the hummers shed looks like.

There is bloodsplatter on the walls, a big blood pool in the middle of the room, and chopped fake organs scattered everywhere. It looks like as if the Hyde had a feast in the shed.

"I am certain Y/N will be impressed by it." Wednesday continues to work on some evidence that she would hide, and it would lead everything to her. Is this a smart idea while a Hyde is on the loose? Definitely, no, but will that stop her from getting the attention she wants? Also, no.

"Okay, if you say so, but don't tell Y/N I helped you! I don't like it when she's mad. She gets so cold and distanced." Enid got too much into her complaining when she remembered why the other girl is even doing this extreme plan.

"Sorry!" She quickly shouted and ran out of the shed before the latter insults her verbally. Wednesday continued her plan until she was satisfied with the results.

Now, all she needs to do is to lure you here and get you to talk to her. That was easier than she thought because as soon as she got out of the shed and made her way to the quad, she overheard you talking to Eugene about going to the hummer's shed, alone. What a horrible sight for you to see, she thought.

Her gaze followed you until you were out of the view. She waited for 25 mins until you came screaming and horror in your eyes. You searched for her amongst the kids in the quad, and surely she sat there oddly enough waiting for you. You made your way to her with stumping feet.

"Why does the shed look like a murder scene?!" You had fire in your eyes and your jaw clenched.

"I don't know what you are talking about." Wednesday and her monotonous tone is getting into your nerves right now. You need the shed for a film project, and it has to be spotless. You don't have time to make any changes.

"I can't believe you're literally sabotaging my future right now. After all you did?! What else do you want Wednesday?! Aren't you happy that you already broke my goddamn heart and now you want to take away my future too?! God, I can't believe I loved you." You frustratingly sighed and ran your hand through your hair.

"You loved me?"

You froze in your position. You weren't supposed to say the last sentence. It just came out. You wished to bury yourself under the earth. You feel your blood rush through your body.

"I- I did, but that doesn't matter now. I talked to Principal Weems about the film school I had in my mind last semester, and I finally made my decision. I'm going."

Wednesday never felt this panic inside her. This is the first time she felt horrible for her lack of care. She wants you to stay. She doesn't want you to go to that stupid film school, but she can't show it.

"I see. I suppose you want your things back. I'll send Thing to give your meaningless hoodies and books back. If you don't mind, I'm already late for my next lesson."

That made your heart crack, but you can't do anything about it. You sighed and nodded. Wednesday walked past you. As she walked by you, her hand accidentally brushed against yours. You bit your lip to stop the tears from forming. Only when you made sure she was gone. You exhaled, and your knees gave up, which made you lean on the table, where Wednesday sat just one minute ago.

Wednesday, hid behind one of the pillars and watched you lean on the table. She wanted to comfort you, but a little voice in her head stopped her. If you're set to leave her and this school to be happy, then she'll have to accept your decision. Sure, it is unfair of her not to tell you how she feels about you. It's unfair to let you leave with a broken heart, but it is better this way.

This way, you can forget about her. This way, it would be easier to leave the school. This way, you won't have to worry about her. This way, you'll never know how much Wednesday actually cares about you. This way, you wouldn't know how much effort she put into that murder scene to get you to talk to her. This way, she wouldn't need to talk about her feelings for you.

And this way, you wouldn't need to fight for attention anymore.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday netflix #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday series

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itsokguysimquirky · 3 months ago

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❥ coffee delivery 📓☕✒️

❥ lip gallagher x reader, no use of y/n, college!au, pre-relationship / potential friends-to-lover, cute little thing i wrote as a writing warm-up because I haven't in ages :p wrote it at 3am. proof read it 2 days later at 1am. so apologies if it's nonsense

❥ w/c -> 988

Consistency and Lip Gallagher were basically sworn enemies. Or at least, they weren’t very familiar with each other. That was until he managed to get roped up into your study sessions. The two of you got paired together for a group project near the beginning of the semester, and considering the near perfect grade you achieved with surprisingly little effort compared to most group projects, Lip hadn’t spent much time debating when you asked if he wanted to be your ‘study buddy’. Plus, he had to admit your time management skills greatly outshined his, hence the project running so smoothly. Sure, he had the natural intellect, but staying on top of things that weren’t survival-related was not Gallagher-forte.

But you kept him in line. He had never seen someone spend so much time organising their google calendar of all things. It was your ‘magnum opus’, you told him when he first questioned the colour-coordinated schedule, and he was starting to get why. Without fail you met three times a week, three hours at a time. If Lip had to cancel or cut a session early, another was scheduled to replace it before the hour’s end. Part of him hated it, little miss life together’s hounding on availability, but he couldn’t deny his more recent grades were too good to complain. And he also couldn’t deny your company was much nicer than most on campus, both in the talking sense and the visual department. Sure, your mind was great, but he didn’t mind the face stuck in front of it either.

“Coffee delivery!” Your cheery voice mock-whispered, sliding into your seat across from Lip and placing the cardboard tray of to-go cups inbetween you. The library’s fourth floor was practically empty, or at least the corner you two had tucked yourselves away in was. Seven pm on a sunday wasn’t usually prime study-time, but with Lip’s work-study, your own obligations, and class, it was a surprisingly good fit for you guys. Plus, the quietness made it much easier to focus.

“Thanks,” Lip didn’t look up from his book, one hand scribbling out nonsense into a notebook and the other grabbing a coffee. It was only after he took a sip did he look up, meeting your eyes with a look of offence. “The hell’s this? I told you, black, two sugars, none-”

“Of that cream shit, I know.” You finished, smiling wide as you recalled his very precise order. Your smile turning a little mean, you swapped your cups, bestowing Lip his beloved cream-free coffee, “Wanted you to learn to look up when you grab a hot beverage through a consequence that didn’t involve burning your hand or spilling coffee all over my notes.” With a wink, you happily took a sip of your flat white.

Lip bit his tongue, fighting back a smile at how proud you looked at your little coffee-swap-prank. It was admittedly cute as fuck, but he couldn’t exactly give you the satisfaction of acknowledging that. Instead, he hid his smile behind his coffee, relishing in the taste of its bitterness. This was how coffee was meant to be, none of that milky crap.

“So, what’s on your agenda today, coffee snatcher?” Lip asked, dropping his pen to give you the undivided attention you seemed to be asking for. He could see through your little tricks, swapping coffees was basically the college girl equivalent of little boys pulling pigtails.

You set your coffee aside, pulling off your fingerless gloves and getting your laptop out of your bag. “Advanced thermo. Shit’s kicking my ass, so I’m hoping three solid hours of that will make it… I want to say ‘make it my bitch’, but I’ll take understandable at this rate.” You laugh, flipping open your laptop and powering it on before disappearing back into your overfilled bag to hunt down the rest of your study material. “You?”

“Physics paper. Put it off for too long, now I have a Monday nine am deadline and only an opening paragraph.” Lip answered, nursing his coffee like it was a warm glass of whiskey. He watched as you dug around in your bag for what was, by his guess, probably just a pen he could’ve offered. But you were specific, you had a study pen, a notes pen, a maths pen, probably a pen exclusively for signing the declaration of independence if you searched in your bag long enough, and you were particular enough to not settle for substitutes until you knew for a fact you had no other option.

Finally emerging with a triumphant smile, your study pen grasped in your hand, you return Lip’s gaze. Offering a sympathetic wince, you slide the pack of pretzels you picked up at the coffee shop towards him, “Brain food. You’re gonna need it with a deadline like that.”

A shockingly genuine smile formed on Lip’s face, willing to admit that the gesture, while small, was sweet. He hid the smile behind his coffee of course, waiting til it schooled down to passively appreciative before he dared lowered his hand to reveal the quirked lips behind the lid. “Uh, thanks. That’s- um, that’s nice.” He cleared his throat, hating how he stumbled over his own words, “I, uh, can still walk you back to your dorm at ten, I’ll just head back here after.” Lip always walked you home after your evening sessions, the late hour and dark skies didn’t exactly make a safe environment for a girl like you, or any girl really, to wander around in.

You shake your head, “No, no, I’ll stick around. If you’re pulling an all-nighter I will too, could probably do with one to get my head around this stuff. We’re in this together, gotta keep you company, right?” You tilt your head, smiling at him.

Your smile’s returned, his grin almost dopey. He nods, messy curls bouncing in time, “Yeah, yeah. You’re good company.”

#lip gallagher x reader #shameless x reader #lip gallagher #shameless us #quirky writings

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sophrosynesworld · 5 months ago

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Community Service (Pt 3)

This is sticky sweet fluff and I'm kicking my feet over it rn.

"Are you ready?" Bakugo grumbles as I approach the campus edge, his trademark scowl in place. Despite his rough demeanor, he's become slightly more approachable since we started this community service project together.

"Yeah," I reply, adjusting my bag and falling into step beside him. The morning sun filters through the trees, casting shifting shadows on the sidewalk as we head to the bus stop. Our destination today is a surprise for him: the local children's library.

We board the bus, and Bakugo sinks into his seat, arms crossed and gaze fixed out the window. I sit next to him, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness about our task today. The library project is much different then our previous weeks.

As we get off the bus and approach the library, Bakugo's brows knit together. "What are we doing here?" he asks, suspicion lacing his voice.

"You'll see," I say with a smile, pushing open the library door. The smell of books and the sound of children's laughter greet us. A librarian waves us over, and I can see Bakugo's confusion deepen.

"Good morning! Thank you for helping us today," the librarian greats us warmly. "Our afternoon reader had to unexpectedly cancel." Her eyes flicker between us before settling on Katsuki. "Would you be willing to read for them today?"

Bakugo's eyes widen slightly. "Read to the kids?" he echoes, looking at me as if I've just plotted his murder.

"Yes," I reply quickly, cutting him off. "He would love to do that."

We follow the librarian to a back room where boxes of new books await shelving. She shows us the proper categorization for each section and then leaves us alone with the mounds.

Bakugo grabs a box and starts sorting through it with a scowl. "Did you have that planned all along?"

I chuckle, picking up a stack of books. "Surprisingly, no. I just signed us up for book duty. Who knows, you might actually enjoy it."

"Yeah, right," he mutters, placing books on the shelves with more force than necessary. "I’m not exactly the storybook type."

"Maybe not, but the kids will love it," I praise him, trying to offer some encouragement. "You’ve got a way of commanding attention. " my arms move as I talk. "They’ll be hanging on your every word."

He snorts but hesitates, a look of uncertainty in his eyes. "You really think so?"

"I do," I answer truthfully. "You're something special, Katsuki."

We work in companionable silence for a few minutes, the sound of books sliding into place filling the room. I glance over at Bakugo, noticing the way he’s starting to relax.

"Hey, thanks for not bailing on this," I say, giving him a smile. "I know it’s not our usual thing."

He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. "Dog's don't need washed every week."

We finish sorting the books and make our way to the reading corner. The children are already gathered, their eyes wide with anticipation.

I lean against the back shelf of the library, watching Bakugo with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. He takes a deep breath, then sits down in the oversized reading chair, book in hand. His steely eyes scan the room, and he looks almost annoyed to be there.

"Alright, settle down," he barks, his rough voice causing a few kids to jump. "I'm only doing this once, so you better listen."

The kids exchange nervous glances but lean in closer, their wide eyes fixed on Bakugo. I can’t help but roll my eyes a bit, wondering how this is going to go.

"This story is about the greatest hero of all time, All Might," he begins, his tone still harsh. He flips through the book slowly, taking a moment to let the children see the pictures before turning to the next page.

As Bakugo reads, something surprising happens. His voice gradually softens, offering different voices for each character. With every page, he gains confidence, slowly becoming more engaging. The kids, who were initially tense, start to relax and become engrossed in the story.

A little girl with pigtails raises her hand shyly. "Mr. Bakugo, what did All Might do next?"

Bakugo's lips twitch into a smile. "With a single punch, All Might sent the villain crashing into the ground. 'You won't harm anyone today,'" Katsuki mimics All Might with a pretty spot-on impression.

Another boy chimes in, eyes wide with excitement. "Did he save everyone?"

Bakugo nods, his tone growing even softer. He's not looking at the book anymore. "Yeah, he did. All Might always put others first, no matter the cost."

Bakugo returns to the story, his voice more animated as he reads the final pages. The children's eyes are glued to him, hanging on his every word.

"And that's how All Might became the symbol of peace," Bakugo concludes with a dramatic finish, closing the book with a gentle thud. He pauses for a moment, looking at the eager faces before him.

"Being a hero isn't just about strength," he states. "It's about heart, courage, and the will to do what's right."

Katsuki's gaze wanders from the children to me. He looks at me for a moment, and I can’t help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through me at seeing this different side of him.

The room is silent for a heartbeat before the children erupt in applause, their faces lit up with admiration and excitement. Some of them are on their feet, clapping enthusiastically, while others cheer and shout praises.

Bakugo stands up, slightly uncomfortable under the attention, his usual scowl returning to a more neutral expression. However, I can see a faint hint of pride in his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

One little boy tugs at Bakugo's sleeve. "Dynamite, can you read us another story sometime?"

Bakugo looks taken aback for a moment, then glances at me. I give him an encouraging nod. "We'll see," he grumbles, ruffling the boy's hair in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture.

As the children disperse, returning to their play areas or parents, Bakugo and I start to gather our things. The librarian approaches, a broad smile on her face. "Thank you so much for helping out today. You were wonderful."

Bakugo shrugs, looking a bit embarrassed. "It was no big deal," he mutters, but I can tell he’s pleased by the praise.

As we leave the library, the morning sun has shifted, casting longer shadows on the sidewalk. We walk in silence for a while before I turn to him.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" I tease, nudging him lightly.

He snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get used to it."

"The kids really liked you."

He glances at me, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. "Maybe," he admits. "But can we do something else next week?"

I grin. "Sure. But you have to admit, you were pretty great in there."

Bakugo rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, as we continue our walk back.

#mha #my hero academia #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #fanfic #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #katsuki #kacchan #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year ago

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It was winter '86 when Nancy found out what it felt like to return to your hometown after having moved away. She had managed to skip Thanksgiving, giving her mother some vague excuse about needing to study for her midterms, but there was no way she could get out of Christmas. So here she was, wrapped in a thick coat and matching scarf, finding herself back on the very streets she had wanted so desperately to leave behind.

Moving to Boston had been a liberation for her. It had been the only way to break free from everything that happened over the past three years. Life had become normal again: she had made friends, gone to parties, taken interesting classes... She had finally been able to breathe fresh air again.

It wasn't like everything was magically alright all of a sudden, of course. She still slept with a gun beside her bed – praying that her roommate Jess would never find out about that – and she wondered if the pain of not having Barb to share all these new experiences with would ever fade away. But she was doing better. The pain wasn't as sharp anymore, far away from the streets that did nothing but remind her.

Now, it was the day before Christmas Eve and she was walking around town, with no aim but to flee from her mother's stress about needing everything about the upcoming days to be perfect.

It felt weird, walking these familiar streets again after having been away. She felt like an intruder in what once used to be her town, a place she had left behind for a reason. She still knew every road, every building, she still had memories waiting for her at every corner... But those streets weren't hers anymore.

All of these memories were about Barb. Barb, who would never get out of Hawkins. Barb, whose skeleton was decaying in the dark and twisted version of her town, right underneath the pavement Nancy was walking on. Barb, who had a gravestone with her name on it while another girl was now growing up in the room in the house that had once been hers. These streets would always stay Barb's. It was a narrative that was finished, a book that had reached its ending, and Nancy was forcing it to stay open by merely walking here.

The streets were quiet: as cold and dark as they were supposed to be on the night before Christmas Eve. Lights were twinkling in the houses Nancy passed, and on the few occasions she did cross paths with someone else, she'd always think – just for a second – that it was Barb, still sixteen and risen from her early grave to haunt her.

Wherever she went, she found shadows that only she could see, darker than they were supposed to be. She saw the shadow of their lemonade stand on the corner of Barb's street. She saw the silhouettes of two little girls with pigtails in their hair cycling hand-in-hand towards the middle school building. She saw them giggling on their way to the swimming pool, looking at store windows on Main Street after they got their first pocket money, walking out of the library with big piles of books in their arms; she saw Barb waiting for her at the community center after Nancy's ballet practice, and she saw herself on the way to Barb's to walk Bobby the dog with her. She saw two shadows on the playground, gossiping on top of the jungle gym that was shaped like a pirate ship; two shadows on their way to the pumpkin patch on the edge of town; two shadows playing tag in the woods... Two shadows leading her exactly to the last place they'd been together, where the walls of a big house were stained with Nancy's mistakes on that fateful warm November night in '83. The place where the two shadows had stopped being interlinked; where one of them had wanted other things than the other and they each went their own separate way. Where they got ripped apart from each other for good.

Nancy just stood there, unmoving and hidden away by the shadows of the evening, staring at the stones of Steve Harrington's house with no intention of going in and saying hi. She had no idea how much time passed until the door opened and a girl stepped outside.

For a moment, Nancy genuinely believed that her mere gaze had managed to summon Barb out of the swimming pool that was her grave, to finally become something far more horrifying than a shadow. It was a moment long enough to make her lose her guard and stumble forward over the pavement.

“Nance?”

It was Robin. The girl who stepped out of the house was Robin Buckley. Tall, freckled face, blue eyes... But that was all the resemblance she had to Barb

“What are you doing here?”

Nancy took a big breath and shrugged, trying to shake off the uncanny feeling.

“I was just taking a walk,” she said, trying to seem normal - or at least as normal as this situation would allow her.

Robin stared at her for a few seconds, a strange look in her eyes, as if she was trying to decipher some secret code written on Nancy's face.

Then, she nodded. “Okay,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “Wanna walk home with me? I was gonna bike, but I can call Steve when I get home and ask him to bring me my bike tomorrow.”

Nancy could easily admit that aimlessly roaming the empty streets of Hawkins with Robin by her side sounded much more appealing than all by herself, so she agreed and allowed Robin to distract her with easy conversation while they left the big houses of Loch Nora behind them.

The two of them had kept in touch, with Robin in college in Indianapolis and Nancy at Emerson. They wrote each other letters and called almost every week. And when Nancy had arrived in Hawkins a few days ago, being around Robin again had no doubt been one of the good things about being back.

The presence of Robin beside her reminded Nancy of all kinds of other memories laid out on those streets; ones that didn't include Barb. They passed the corner where she and Steve had once made out in his car, not long after they got back together at the end of '83. They passed the playground with the trampoline where she and Mike had spent countless afternoons launching a laughing baby Holly into the air. They passed the lunchroom where she and Fred would hang out together every time they had a newspaper deadline coming up. They passed the dirt road leading up to the Byers' house, where Jonathan had run after her that day they broke up to give her a hug and make sure they'd part as friends and not just as exes. And finally, they passed the edge of the woods where she and Robin had walked side-by-side and Robin had smiled at the ground, almost shy, when Nancy asked her if they were friends, officially. Nancy remembered that as clear as if it had happened yesterday: amidst all the horrors, the fear, and the looming threats on their lives, had been this genuine smile. It had given her yet another reason to keep trying to win that fight no matter how badly the odds were stacked against them. It had warmed something deep inside of her and made her realize that her problems with Jonathan were beyond trying to save.

Now, more than nine months later and with the feeling that she'd known Robin for much longer than that, Nancy looked to her right to find that same smile playing around Robin's lips, as if she was lost in the exact same memory as Nancy.

Barb would probably keep haunting the streets of Hawkins forever, never letting that uncanny feeling in Nancy's gut fade away whenever she'd visit her old hometown. Her ghost would make the fading pain flare up, sharp and fresh all over again. But this street right here, following the edge of the woods and leading into Robin's neighborhood, was untainted by memories of Barb. The two of them had no business ever going here – contrary to Robin.

Nancy breathed out and asked herself what Barb would want her to do right now.

She'd want you to heal, Nance, Robin once told her, months ago, when Nancy had finally found the courage to talk out loud about everything that happened.

So on this cold winter night, she stretched out her hand and grabbed Robin's. She could feel warmth through their gloves, sparking all the way through her arm and chest, right into her cheeks. Robin's smile deepened and she squeezed Nancy's fingers, not letting go until they reached her front door.

Maybe being back in Hawkins wasn't as bad as Nancy thought it would be.

Ronancetober day 8: uncanny. Inspired by the song These Streets by Bastille

#inspired by that weird feeling of coming back to your hometown #sometimes it's nice #sometimes bittersweet #and sometimes outright uncanny #it holds the reminders of the person you stopped being and yet it shaped you into the person you are now #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #ronance #ronancetober #ronancetober2023 #stranger things #fanfic #fruity ficlet

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knifedancer · 1 year ago

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Unsigned Gifts

Marinette has a secret admirer that keeps giving her really thoughtful gifts with no signature. But who is it?

The five times Marinette received unsigned gifts and the one time she guessed who all the gifts were from.

AO3 Link

~~~First~~~

It all started one day when Lila and her lackeys broke her favorite marking pens. Not that she had any proof, except for the cruel light in Lila’s eyes and the way certain classmates weren’t meeting her eye – and hiding their hands in their laps – as she discovered the mess near the back of the classroom. Marinette had returned to the classroom after lunch and found the set of marking pens that her grandmother given her snapped in half, their vibrant inks smeared into a grotesque brown all over her desk surface. Luckily it wasn’t the whole set, but her favorite colors were in her bookbag for work on a commission… The bluenette hid her glistening eyes, not allowing a single tear to escape, as she began to wipe what she could from the desk. Her only response a silent nod when Madam Bustier, whom assumed it was not caused by someone else, told her that she needed to stay after school to make sure it was properly clean.

Honestly, she was glad to be alone after the last bell rang. The room was empty and silent except for the ticking clock on the wall. It gave her some private moments to let out those tears that she kept hidden – she would never let anyone see her cry from their bullying attempts – while she mindlessly went through the movements of scrubbing the tabletop. The gentle rasping sounds of the cloth against a hard surface and the familiar circular motions, long ingrained from cleaning parts of the bakery, gave the pigtailed girl a sense of Zen. It was oddly calming for all the emotions she had bottled up inside her earlier; at least she would not be visited by an akuma today. When she was finally done, she gathered up the empty cleanser bottle, dirty rags, and mangled pens to dump in the garbage near the teacher’s desk. Marinette gave one last sorrowful look at the pens, recalling all of the designs she had illustrated with them and the joy she had felt receiving them from Grandma Gina… On the bright side, they had not found her precious sketchpad to ruin. The designer wiped her damp cheeks with her jacket sleeve before dropping the pens into the can with a sigh. She trudged out of the class and down the steps, completely missing a pair of calculating eyes that watched her from the shadows…

At the end of the next day, Marinette found a brand-new set of expensive Copic Marking Pens and five Bosco Wood pencils tucked into a simple pink ribbon bow on top in her locker, no note was attached. She looked around, feeling eyes watching her but not seeing anyone standing out in the crowd of random students gathering their things and chatting with friends. She reverently touched the beautiful clear case and hugged it to her chest, a small genuine smile gracing her features as she imagined all the stunning designs she would make, before tucking them safely into her bookbag. Perhaps one of her classmates felt bad for what happened and wanted to remain anonymous for fear of Lila? Whatever the case, these would be safer in her room.

~~~Second~~~

A few days later, Marinette sat at one of the tables in the library during lunch, off in her own world with her headphones playing the latest Jagged Stone single just loud enough for her to block out any passing sounds but low enough not to disturb others. She found it easier to focus on her work not surrounded by her former friends and the kindly librarian allowed her to eat at the tables so long as she didn’t make a mess. Today the designer was working on a dress for Clara Nightingale’s next award show appearance. The overall look was done but the colors… She tapped the end of her new oak pencil against her lips as she contemplated. The margins on the page were filled with tiny smudges of carefully erased notes. She pulled out her phone, looking through various Pantone color chip options through Qwant. Unfortunately, like with all electronics, the inherent settings and hardware capabilities altered the tones just slightly – making the decision even harder.

“I wish I could afford those Pantone Color chips…it would make it so much easier to choose,” Marinette murmured to herself with a sigh. “Perhaps I can buy one with the money Maman’s family will send me for New Year but that’s still months away...”

The five-minute warning bell signifying the end of lunch rang, pulling her from her thoughts. The girl packed her sketchbook and headphones away before sweeping any remaining crumbs and rubber shavings into her empty lunch containers, then headed off to class without a second thought to the other students meandering through the book stacks or lining up to check out something last minute. Her mind was elsewhere, dreaming of which colors would combine best to fit Clara’s style and still wow people on the red carpet, when she knocked into something solid. Marinette’s elbow was caught in a firm grip before she fell backward, finding herself hauled up against a familiar grey vest.

“Hello Angel, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” came the smug voice of the other blond boy in her class. Just great. She righted herself with a scoff, rolling her eyes at his ridiculous pick-up line while brushing imaginary wrinkles from her blazer. She knew he was only doing it to get a rise out of her but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of losing her temper.

“Not as much as when they kicked you out of hell, Felix,” she replied sweetly as she pulled away.

“Are you saying I’m hot?” he asked with a predatory grin.

“You’re about as hot as a dumpster on fire and only half as pleasant!” Marinette sing-songed before quickly brushing by him and walked back towards class, missing the playful look on his face as he followed her at a respectable distance. She settled into her seat with a huff, zoning out while Madam Bustier droned on about the Revolution, the girl’s mind lost in the details for Clara’s dress once again.

The next gift unexpectedly appeared at lunch the next day. The librarian called her over and presented a small parcel wrapped in pink striped paper. “This is for you, dear.”

“What? Who…,” began the confused bluenette. She spied a small, unsigned tag with her name on it taped to the top. The tag itself was not handwritten, instead seemed to have been made on a typewriter. Who, besides her Grandpa Roland, even owned one of those anymore?

“Sorry but I don’t have any idea. It was left here with just your name printed on the card while I was busy with a phone call. Seems you have an admirer, dear!” chuckled the librarian as she patted the girl on the shoulder, then went back to sorting a stack of returns for reshelving.

Marinette settled the parcel on her usual table, carefully unwrapping to preserve the lovely paper for another of her crafting projects. She pulled off the lid of the plain white box and unfolded the tissue paper inside – her breath caught in her throat. Inside were four Pantone Color Guide fans for fashion and home design, each with 350 different swatches, in every shade of the rainbow. Her fingers trembled as she lifted one from the safety of its tissue bed, fanning it open with a look of awe. Who had done this? First the pens, now this… She was overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude, her face lighting up with palpable joy as her mind buzzed with questions and plans.

‘I need to take these home, immediately!’ she thought, returning the Pantone guide back to the same spot she had pulled it from. She closed the box and pressed it to her chest as she quickly departed from the library, barely preventing herself from bumping into a student that was about to depart through the doorway. She threw a quick “sorry!” over her shoulder as she ran, only catching a blur of gold hair in her periphery as she exited the school.

~~~Third~~~

A couple weeks later, after the commission for Clara was done, Marinette found herself with some free time on the weekend. Time to find a nice spot to draw! She had planned to wander through the park near her house, but discovered Adrien was doing a photoshoot with Lila. She rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something rotten. Not that she didn’t still enjoy watching Adrien’s photoshoots – on the contrary, it was fun to see the modeling process and clothes – but the motivation had changed. She had found her feelings for the model fading as time went on; eventually she accepted that it was a temporary obsession rather than love that she felt. Being around him wasn’t as awkward as she expected but she preferred to avoid being around Lila – which meant not hanging out with Adrien as much as he was constantly around her due to his father’s wishes.

She hummed softly and turned on her heel, deciding to seek out another spot that might inspire her. The pigtailed girl wandered along the Siene, giving a friendly wave to Andre the ice cream vendor as she passed and enjoying the light breeze against her cheeks. She decided her time would be best spent at the Luxembourg Gardens – it had been a while since she had visited. Marinette took a deep breath as she meandered along the sunlight paths, surrounded by trees and flowers, the calming effect of the garden and architecture washing over the secret bug-themed heroine with each step. She found a bench near one of the buildings that caught her eye, settling down with one of her drawing pencils and losing herself to the sketching of various designs that began to form in her head. A few gowns inspired by flowers and the stream nearby, jackets and hats noted with colors of the various leaves overhead, but what appeared the most on the pages were men’s three-piece suits with embroidered vests… Marinette paused, gazing at the newest vest she had drawn. Deep twilight blue, bordering on black; with barely imperceptible golden and green abstract detailing that was vaguely reminiscent of peacock feathers.

It reminded her of Felix for some reason – not just the vest itself but the stylization she had added. She glanced up to the building again, taking in the architecture with a discerning gaze. It and part of the surrounding garden was of English design, merging in with the French touches seamlessly. Adrien’s cousin was from London, perhaps that was why it reminded her so much of him… She dropped her gaze back down to the page, her eyes widening as she realized she was unconsciously doodling Felix’s face and shoulders into the vest she had created. It was rough but the sketch – hair, jawline, and the beginning curve of a grin – was distinctively him. Marinette’s cheeks pinked at the realization, hurriedly attempted to flip the page only to discover it was the last sheet. Her book would need to be replaced!

“Well,” she said as she closed and halfheartedly tucked the pad away, “looks like I’ll have to buy a new sketch pad with my allowance next Friday.” With one last look at the beautiful garden around her, she began her journey home through the afternoon crowds. Marinette failed to hear the soft plop behind her as her sketchpad fell from her bag until she was back in her room. She returned to search for it with no luck, lamenting the loss of her work but hopeful that her luck – Tikki’s really – might just bring it back to her. After all, this was why she always wrote her name and address on the inside cover. Someone must have found it and would turn it in!

At school the following Monday and Tuesday, she relegated herself to making little doodles on her notebook’s lined paper. Nothing too serious or professional – little flowers and birds that she remembered seeing at the Luxembourg Gardens, black cats chasing peacocks through a field of flowers, ladybugs on leaves cleaning their antennae or snoozing in a pollen covered pistil bed... She didn’t want to waste a great design on paper that was too thin to accept her bold pencil strokes, not to mention whatever was left would not withstand the colored marker ink without becoming an oversaturated, soggy mess. At one point Marinette caught Felix staring over her shoulder at her drawings during free period; she was so taken aback that she was at a loss for words as his green eyes met hers.

He propped his elbow on the desk and casually rested his chin in the palm of his hand, his trademark smirk spreading across his face. “Like what you see, Princess? Take a picture, it will last longer.”

Marinette gasped at the audacity and turned away, “No, you simply reminded me of a ‘before’ picture I saw on the TV the other day.”

“Give me a chance and I’ll do more than make you gasp,” he replied close to her ear.

“I’d slap you, but I don’t want to accidentally make your face look any better,” she murmured sweetly, her eyes alight with playful mockery as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. A tingle went up her spine as his breath tickled her ear and they seemed frozen as their gazes met, the moment only being broken by the bell. Without turning her head any further, she heard him chuckle with mirth as he sat back in his seat.

By the end of class on Tuesday, she returned home to find a thick envelope tucked into the mail slot beside their apartment entry in the alleyway. She pulled it out and found yet another typed tag on the front addressed to her. Not wanting to wait a moment longer, she ripped it open right there on the doorstep. She cried with joy when she saw the contents! Inside was her lost sketchpad tied to a brand new one, its cover a pale pink and covered in plum blossoms and irises. Marinette looked up and down the alleyway, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person that had left the envelope, but no one was there. Did she really have an admirer? She blushed as her hand traced the pattern on the cover idly. Whomever they were, they didn’t waste time with cliché gestures of flowers and chocolates… Instead, they seemed very attentive to her likes and hobbies. Every gift was centered around her designing but still found a way to incorporate a personalized touch. She had never felt so special or seen before. A warmth blossomed in her chest at the thoughtfulness this mysterious figure had shown her; this feeling leaving her floating through the rest of the week as if on cloud nine.

~~~Fourth~~~

On Thursday, Marinette sat at her table after lunch and felt something bump against her knee unexpectedly. She shifted and felt something small fall onto her knees. Trying not to look distracted in class, she brought it into her lap proper and held back a squeal as she caught a glimpse of pink striped paper. They must have stuck it to the underside of the table to avoid someone else finding it. The pigtailed girl slowly opened the wrapping, careful to keep it as silent as possible, to reveal a spool of delicate lace edging in a creamy white. She contemplated uses for it and decided she had plenty left over for a little display of appreciation…

Friday morning, she checked herself in the mirror one last time and received the nub’s up from Tikki. Marinette made her way to school and happily skipped up the steps, ignoring the looks she received – didn’t matter to her if they were in envy, anger, or judgement. Let them look! The designer had raised her hair into her Multimouse space buns but pinned small segments of lace around the base of each, giving her a Chun-Li look with her usual red ribbons trailing from each bun. She had paired the look with a red qipao top with a peplum hem, which flared slightly at her hips, over tailored black pants. She had also exchanged her usual pink purse with one covered in upcycled cream colored doilies.

Surprisingly she entered the class with a couple minutes to spare, nearly stumbling into the two blond cousins conversing at the front table. Adrien was the first to see her, his eyes slipping up to her hair as his smile turned warm and fond. “Hey Marinette! I love the new look; did you design it yourself?”

“Hey Adrien! Yeah, just haven’t had the chance to wear it before now. Felt like wearing something new today,” the designer smiled in return, giving him a little twirl. In the meantime, Felix had turned around and standing eerily silent as he stared at her. She could have sworn his ears had turned slightly pink when he finally glanced at her hair. “Cat got your tongue, Felix?” Marinette asked cheekily.

He cleared his throat before he replied. “Can I take your picture so I can show Père Noël what I want for Christmas?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, “Don’t you know? Only good kids get presents, I’m afraid you won’t qualify.”

“Well, if I must be a Grinch, then I’d rather steal you instead,” Felix stated with a grin.

She leaned in close and dropped her voice low, her eyes taking on a dangerous glint. “I guess I should add ‘body bag’ on my list this year then, because it sounds like you’ll end up in one.” The boy seemed temporarily speechless, so she smirked with victory and headed back to her seat. Vaguely she could hear the imperceptible murmurings of the two blonds get cut off by the bell as she settled in.

Marinette felt – and ignored – Felix’s stare on the back of her head the rest of the day. If she had turned around for even a moment, she likely would have seen the rouged complexion that he was unable to tame in her presence.

~~~Fifth~~~

A week later, after a long day dodging Lila’s machinations and having to stay late to handle Class Representative tasks, Marinette was relieved to find the locker room empty. She mentally ran through the list of books she would need to complete her homework and opened the lock, the door immediately falling open due to an unbalanced package within. Her heart leaped into her chest as she took in the memorable pink stripped paper. The bluenette sat on the bench and brought the package into her lap, noting that it felt soft under the crinkling exterior. Just as she did with the Pantone Guides, she carefully removed the paper. As the last of the tape was peeled and the boundary fell away to reveal the contents, Marinette audibly gasped. There in her lap lay the most beautiful silk she had ever seen, the same shade as the vest she had sketched at the gardens!

She blushed as she thought of the drawing and the image of Felix wearing it in her mind’s eye. She shook her head to free herself from such thoughts. Knowing him, he’d probably think her designs were not worthy enough to be worn. The designer brushed her hand over the material adoringly, unfolding the fabric slightly to gauge the length. There was enough to make a few vests or a skirt or a cocktail dress… Her fingers found a card hidden within the folds and pulled it free. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she read it. Printed in the same font as the others, it simply said:

The vest will only be half as beautiful as you.

~~~Plus One~~~

Marinette spent the next few days sewing the vest and adding the detailing. It now hung on her mannequin as pictured in her sketchpad but…it didn’t feel right. Incomplete. She trudged through school, distracted by the design and what it seemed to be missing. Even Tikki couldn’t calm her or help in any way. The girl wasn’t even sure why she was so focused on it! It wasn’t like she had a way to deliver it to her admirer… she had no way to tell if it would fit him either!

The girl was so unfocused all morning that, when it finally came to be lunch time, she tripped over something on the ground unexpectedly. She groaned from the floor as she brushed her knees off and sought out what item might have caused her fall. In the middle of the walkway was a nondescript black pencil case and – if the solidness she felt through the toe of her flat was any indication – it was full of writing utensils. Marinette grabbed it as she stood up, searching for a tag or name on it to figure out whom to return it to. Nothing was on the outside except for the zipper and a smudge of dirt in the shape of her shoe print. She unzipped it and peered inside, digging her fingers around to loosen the contents. She must have jostled something too hard because pens and pencils popped from the opening and spilled onto the floor.

“Damnit, Marinette…you’re such a klutz,” she muttered as she crouched back down to collect the items, hoping nothing was damaged. She knew how important good pens were. She smiled warmly as she looked at the case, remembering the pens and pencils she had received in her first gift from her admirer…

Just then a pencil caught her eye and she froze; it couldn’t be… As if afraid it was just one of Trixx’s mirages that would evaporate when touched, she reached out slowly and picked it up. There in her hand was a Bosco pencil, exact matches to the ones she had received. Looking around the semi-busy walkway, she quickly gathered up the rest and ran down an empty hall to the supply closet she sometimes used to transform during an akuma attack. The designer knew these came as a matching set of ten and had thought it was odd that she only received five…assuming whomever the giver was that they may have kept the others. She didn’t blame them; these were expensive pencils! She pulled her own pink case out and extracted one of the Bosco pencils to compare it against.

The serial numbers matched.

Marinette gasped and fell to her knees on the floor of the closet, staring at the zippered pouch in shock. “This is…this is my admirer’s case.” She sat dumbfounded for a moment before springing back into action to search for any name that might give away their identity. However, even after emptying it of all further contents, there wasn’t a single thing with initials or contact information. The girl groaned in frustration before carefully replacing the contents and cleaning the dirt from the outside. “I’ll bring it to the office, perhaps they will report it missing to Lost & Found. They brought me back my sketchpad, it’s only fair to find a way to bring this back to them too.”

The designer opened the door and stepped back out into the hall, keeping the case snuggly held against her stomach like a precious artifact, then made her way towards the front office. As she approached, she caught a familiar voice drifting from the open doorway and into the hall, a voice that no longer held the same haughty tone but one filled with anxiety and concern.

“It’s all black with a zipper down the side. Contains several wood drawing pencils and pens which mean a lot to me. Felix Fathom, 01-XX-XX-XXXX. Did you get that?” He paused and she could hear the dulcet voice of their receptionist responding the affirmative. “Thank you. You’ll call me if you find it?” She didn’t wait to hear the answer, instead she ducked into a bathroom nearby and stared at the case as if it had grown legs.

‘Felix is my admirer…he gave me the gifts…this is his case…’ Her mind whirled as it connected the dots. All the times he had shown interest in her drawings and hobbies without calling attention to himself, the times they had bumped into each other in the library or the hallway, the pick-up lines and terms of endearment taking on a whole new meaning as she blushed… He had been there on the cusp of her periphery and paid more attention to her interests than she ever thought he might. And he sounded so worried about losing this case, which contained the matching ones to her set. Then a knowing grin crossed her face – the note cards! She recalled Adrien once mentioning that Felix’s father used to type all of his movie scripts on a typewriter. ‘He did all this…for me?’ Her heart swelled with warmth.

With a flash of brilliance, Marinette suddenly knew just how to finish her design!

But first, she needed to drop the pen pouch off at the front office.

Marinette arrived early the next day and took her usual seat in the empty classroom, deciding to doodle as she waited for others to arrive. Well, one person in particular. Her nerves tingled with the impending confrontation. What if she was wrong? What if he did this as some sick joke? No. She and Tikki had talked through all those issues last night as she hand embroidered the lining with ladybugs flitting between Tudor Roses. It was folded and wrapped in her lap, covered by her jacket.

She heard the sound of his footfall in the hallway and held her breath, forcing her eyes to remain on the paper pad in front of her as she heard those footsteps falter at the doorway. Within a few moments, they restarted and walked up the aisle towards his desk before pausing next to hers. Marinette looked up and met his eyes, noticing he had already dropped his bookbag onto the ground next to his desk on the tier above hers. They were all alone, this was her chance!

“You’re here early, finally decided to be a good example, Miss Class Rep?” Damn him and that smirk!

“On the contrary, I had an important appointment to make this morning.” In one fluid movement she stood, unfolded the vest, and draped it around his shoulders like a cape before he could react.

His eyes widened as he looked down at the material swathed around his torso in awe, his eyes taking on a nervous shadow as they rose once again to her face, “You… How did…”

“You know what that’s made of don’t you?” Marinette’s voice took on a serious tone as if lecturing a student. Her fingers gently fiddled with an edge near his shoulder, pretending to assess the fabric before tucking it beneath his shirt collar. His eyes became searching, but he didn’t reply, his lips parted as if too stunned or unsure to answer.

The pigtailed girl leaned in close to his lips and whispered, “Boyfriend material.” Then closed the distance to seal it with a kiss.

~~~Author's Notes: Do I sound like I am an artist knowing these things? Because I'm not. I just research A LOT when I write. 😅

#5 + 1 fic #miraculous ladybug #felinette #felix x marinette #marivanily #marinette dupain cheng #felix fathom #felix graham de vanily #cross posted on ao3 #fluff #secret admirer #gifts #pickup lines #snappy comebacks #Very Little Dialog #non canon compliant #Felix Likes A Challenge #Sassy Marinette #pov marinette

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hyperhanniee · 1 year ago

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A long 4ggravate highschool au headcanons thingy because I am a multi fandom bastard and I'm hyperfixated on them

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Tighnari and Alhaitham are the two smartest, but they aren't academic rivals. Haitham is better at literature and social studies, while Tighnari is better at math and science. They tutor each other on their bad subjects.

Kaveh is the art kid, ofc. He loves drawing and painting. He once made a whole sturdy structure out of marshmallows and toothpicks. He draws Haitham the most, but claims he draws Cyno more.

Last is Cyno, he's sporty and a huge teachers pet. He has office duty and has a huge ego about it. He lets Kaveh get away with skipping, but annoys Haitham and Tighnari about being a second late.

Now dating time!

The first crush that ever happened in the group was Alhaitham getting a crush on Cyno in elementary school. He just thought Cyno was the prettiest in a cute elementary schooler way.

Og highschool couples were cynonari and kavetham. The couples would often go on double dates, one time Cyno and Kaveh ran off at a fair leaving Haitham and Tighnari behind. The two walked around holding hands and Haitham won Tighnari a huge fox plushie, but it was tOtAlLy PlAtOnIc

After a while communication happened and they all realized they liked each other.

Haitham and Tighnari constantly hold hands in the hallways. Tighnari is always nervous that someone's gonna just touch his tail, so Haitham is his shield.

Kaveh does Cyno's hair everyday before classes start. High pony with bangs, low pony, a messy bun. Kaveh is in love with Cyno's hair. But the one time it backfired was with pigtails. Cyno almost beat the shit outta Kaveh

Cyno drags Haitham everywhere because scary dog privilege. Haitham also just picks Cyno up at random times to annoy him. Cyno just wiggles like a feral cat, but after a while goes limp.

Kaveh loves to nap on Tighnari's tail. The blonde is absolutely obsessed with it. He'll put cute clips on it, he'll braid the longer parts, and it's just his comfort spot. He brushes Tighnari's tail to help calm himself.

Kaveh and Haitham go to the library all the time. Kaveh loves reading about ancient architecture, while Haitham grabs almost every book he can find on authors to quench his hyperfixation.

Cynonari go on ice cream dates. Cyno loves mint choco while Tighnari despises it with a passion. Tighnari always gets some "tropical fruit" like lychee or dragon fruit. Cyno is basic as hell, vanilla or mint choco.

Lastly they all always attend Cyno's games. For whatever sport he does, they're always the loudest fans. One time Kaveh almost physically fought a girl because she claimed to be Cyno's #1 fan (dramatic bitch)

#genshin impact #4ggravate #tighnari #cyno #kaveh #alhaitham #highschool au #cynonari #kavetham #sike bitch it's poly 4aggravate

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redbleedingrose · 1 year ago

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Girl Dad!Rhysand x Reader Headcanons Pt 2

Part 1

A/N: So it turns out you all enjoyed the first post and I kept coming up with more ideas so here we go!

Girl dad Rhys back at it again stealing all our hearts smh <333333

I feel like Rhys is really into family vacations! He loves taking time to just relax with his mate and his little shining star, often taking you and the babe up to the private cabin to just get away from the stress of being high lord and high lady. He really believes that the key to having a happy and healthy relationship with both you and your daughter is being “normal” and truly just being himself around the people he cares most for in the entire world.

He is definitely the kind of mate to have a secluded beach house, a quaint cabin in the Illyrian mountains, a cozy cottage in the forests that he personally designed. Ofc there is a huge master bedroom with an on-suite sitting area with a gigantic balcony that has the best views in the entire home. He also designs the perfect room for your babe, even including additional rooms for any future children you may have (which he is quite desperate for). There is a play room with lots of sensory development toys, a library that holds collections of all your and your daughters favorite books from different authors, there is definitely a pool (for late night skinny dipping), and a music room that has the piano and guitars so your daughter can learn how to play.

He adores playing chess with his shining star. She always wins against her 500 year old father despite being only 3. He loves watching her little pigtails bounce as she dances and jumps with glee, teasing her mama: “I won mama, you never win against papa, right papa?” Her chubby cheeks flushing with excitement as she stares up at you with innocent widened eyes. “That’s right my shining star, papa always wins,” his violet eyes glinting with starlight as he sends you a cheeky wink that leaves you feeling flushed all over

The asshole never lets you win, in fact, he always has a stupid sexy smug smirk on his face every time you play against him.

At some point during your relationship, you forced Azriel to teach you all of Rhys’ dirty tricks so you can finally win against him.

It did not work.

Man’s already had you figured out. Watching you with one eyebrow raised and a grin tugging at his lips every time you played a move where you thought you had the upper hand, only for him to end up winning.

It’s okay though… he ate you out for hours as a reward for trying so hard

ANYWAY

I feel like your daughter and Rhys are connected on a deeper level. Like I said, this male adores her. Treats her like a princess. Coddles her to the extreme while making sure she understands her privilege. Regardless… they just understand each other more than you could ever describe. It is that unconditional deep love that he has for her that makes their bond so special.

Any time she has a nightmare? Rhys is already awake and jogging towards her room to bring her back to your bed and let her sleep between the both of you or on his chest.

When she was just a babe, before she could talk, you could swear that with the way Rhys and her stared at each other, they were communicating and could understand each other. They still do that now. It is like they have their own language, inside jokes that end with high pitched giggles and Rhys tickling her and pulling her close to smooch her ruddy cheeks.

There was a phase your daughter had where she would try to sneak into your bed to sleep with you and Rhys. You would wake up every single time she tried, silently watching with a soft smile and bleary eyes as Rhys shush’s her as she stares up at him with her violet puppy dog eyes, “C’mere little love, shh don’t wake mama, s’okay, you can sleep with us tonight,” already leaning down to pick her up under her outstretched arms to settle her between you both. When she crawls in behind you and tries to throw her tiny arm around your waist, you will turn around with a gentle groan and pull her into your chest, tucking her head under your chin and planting a soft kiss to her fluffy hair so she can snuggle into you completely.

Rhysand still struggles to sleep some nights. Some nights, he wakes up gasping for air and clutching his chest, staring at you desperately while you rub his back and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. On these nights though, Rhys is completely content and at ease. When you and his babe are with him, you both are entirely safe. The thing is… he feels entirely safe too. He leans in for a quick peck before scooting forward to cuddle you both into him, almost immediately sliding back into a deep sleep with you both in his arms.

This male is also the most extravagant and outlandish fae you have ever met. This male insists on matching EVERYWHERE. Before your daughter was born, he would have clothes that were specially made for you both so that you could match wherever you went. Now??? This male has you AND your daughter matching with him.

Matching pajama sets??? A MUST

Regular every day wear??? Better be matching

training clothes???

“We are on the same team darling, we have to match,” he pleads as you stare at him exasperated as hell. He will even rope your daughter in, I cannot with him frl… “Isn’t that right my little star? You want mama to match with me and you right?”

And how are you supposed to resist your adorable daughter clapping her tiny hands and clutching at your dress, rocking back and forth on her heels with her violet eyes looking up at you, “Yes mama! Please match with us!” with the largest toothy smile, reminding you how she is growing up too fast

Matching starfall outfits?? Absolutely, without a doubt, its not a want, its a NEED

Male gets weak in the knees when he realizes that you and your babe are wearing your hair in the same hairstyle. He bites at your exposed neck and whisper begs for another babe.

Can we just discuss how adorable your babe is? Her violet eyes and ruddy cheeks that are so chubby every time she smiles with wild hair that can barely be controlled? Her round belly and tiny hands that barely fist around 3 of Rhys’ fingers and her feet that stumble and scamper through the marbled floors with delighted screams as Azriel and Cassian play tag with her. She is your little angel.

All that to say, Rhysand absolutely blows raspberries onto her tummy that results in squeals and laughter that make the stars shine brighter. He also loves to pretend to eat and chew on her toes and feet. They are his favorite “snack” as he likes to tell your babe.

Whenever she falls or hurts herself, she immediately comes running to you with fat tears rolling down her ruddy cheeks and her arms sticking out so her mama can cuddle and kiss away her pain. Obviously a mama’s kiss is healing of all things. Rhys worries like a mother hen, fretting over her paper cut, “Should we call Madja darling?? Are you sure??? Look, she is crying!!! I think we should call Majda. She needs to clear out the clinic immediately so all of the healers can focus on her!!!” And you are just rolling your eyes and smooching away your shining stars tears and her boo boo. After she has calmed down a little, all she wants to do is cuddle with her papa, and he will immediately bring her into his arms and hold her against his chest, his fluttering heart with panic beating under her tiny head while he plants kisses all over her temple and forehead while checking her boo boo and signs of any other boo boos. He will also add his own kiss because, “papa wants to help too little love.”

You wanna know what Rhys thinks is the most adorable thing?? It is when your daughter follows you around and pretends to be high lady because she wants to be exactly like her mama. She drinks her milk from her sippy cup and pretends that it is the coffee that you drink every morning. She bosses Cassian around, forcing him to have tea parties with her to mimic gatherings with other courts, and loves when Mor dresses her up and gets her all dolled up. She loves joining you and Rhys in your shared office and acts like she is “in charge” of meetings, often falling asleep in the chair with her belly sticking out of her shirt that is riding up, milk dripping out of the sippy cup onto the wooden floors as it hangs out from her hand, soft snores while you and Rhys discuss political strategy softly in the background, kissing her head every so often to see that tiny sleepy smile as she shifts deeper into the sofa.

Rhysand has no strength against her. One messily pout from her gets her whatever she wants. Some high lord he is (affectionate in love eye roll)

She wants a horse?

“But darling, it is just a tiny project with 100 stables and 100 horses. It is entirely plausible. My little star deserves to have all the horses she wants”

She wants a pup?

“Okay little love, but we have to convince mama first so make sure you give her your puppy dog eyes okay?” (Smooches her cheeks ten times before settling her on his hip and making his way to your office)

She wants new shoes?

“My heart… she only has two closet collection of shoes… she should have at least fifteen as the future high lady!”

“Rhys she is only four.”

“That doesn’t matter darling! She deserves the best of the best, just as you do.”

She wants a new house?

“Sweetheart, we only have five houses. A high lord and lady can have a couple more. Especially if our shining star wants another.”

“Rhys, she does not need another house. She is fine.”

“But darling…” (whines like a baby until you give in and he builds another home for you)

She wants a sister?

“I think it’s time for another darling”

“You think so?”

“Yes darling, I-”

“I think so too husband.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

#rose rambles #acotar headcanons #rhysand #Rhysand headcanons #Rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #pro Rhysand #girl dad!rhysand #girl dad #Girl dad!Rhys #Girl dad!Rhysand x reader #Girl dad!rhys x reader #Rhys x reader #fluff #Rhysand fluff #Rhysand x reader fluff #this made me soft #girl dad era

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resident-gay-bitch · 3 months ago

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🫶 Multiship Mondays 🫶

Peter x Sirius (Padtail)

Something I’ve been a little bit thinking about lately is Sirius x Peter…

Like, they’re totally the “Suppressed queer” x “He’s totally out of my league” trope. Hear me out.

You know how there's that thing like how if boys pull little girls pigtails on the playground it means he has a crush on her? (fuck that, by the way, we do not condone teaching girls that bullying = love, because ew. But for the sake of the ship) yeah, well, Sirius who gives Peter the most shit in the group. Like, he fucks with all of them, but he’s genuinely a little mean to Peter; Hiding his shoes, his homework, his sweets, his childhood bear, his tie, teasing him, testing (harmless) pranks on him, slipping puking pastels into his sweets pile and dungbombs into his pockets. Because it’s easier being mean to Peter than admitting he likes him. It’s easier to tease and poke fun then let himself get close to the boy. It's a way to keep his emotions at bay and make sure no one can figure out what he’s feeling under the surface.

And Peter, who’s had a crush on Sirius since they first met. At first, Sirius was a lovely boy, sweet, confident, but quite sad a lot of the time. He quickly became jealous of James for how close they got, and how James is the only one to know what ails Sirius. And he’s so handsome, and Peters so obviously not, and he knows it’s stupid because Sirius isn’t even queer but Peter dreams of it.

And as they get older, the girls fawn over Sirius, and he and James become very popular and Peter just feels like he’s constantly in their shadow. Especially Sirius’. Constantly, he has to sit around with his friends and hear about the girl Sirius like’s this week, he has to listen to Sirius’ experience kissing feels like, and eventually, more inappropriate things, and he just has to pretend he’s fine and his heart isn’t breaking and that he’s not insanely envious of half the fucking girls in their year.

The older they get, the more and more Sirius teases, the meaner he gets. It’s genuinely fucking awful, the boy he’s in love with, constantly pickling on him. It makes Pete feel sick and hopeless, and he hates Sirius. He fucking hates him. Because it’s already bad enough, loving a gorgeous boy who's very obviously not queer, who’s so gorgeous he’s never single for longer than a month, but he's rude.

But Sirius isn’t rude. He’s genuinely so kind and lovely. It’s just Peter. He fucking has it out for Peter, but then he’ll also be nice to Peter, and offer his last roast potato because he knows they’re Petes favorite, and play’s Peters favorite records whenever he’s in the room, and helps him with his homework - because of course, on top of all of that, Sirius is the smartest person he knows and never needs to fucking study. And of course he helps Peter with all of his homework, because he’s fucking stupid compared to the lot of them. It’s mortifying, but it’s the only Sirius time he can get where he’s not being an arsehole. And sure, he jokes and teases the whole time, but it’s the way he jokes and teases with James and Remus and everyone else.

He’s never a massive cunt when it’s just them, these days, when they’re sitting together in the quiet library, or alone in their dorm, or sitting on Petes bed with the curtains drawn and a silencing charm up because he doesn’t want James and Remus to hear how fucking stupid he is. Sirius never calls him stupid. He never makes Pete feel stupid (intentionally. Though, he does, since Sirius is basically fucking tutoring him).

When Pete can’t answer a question, Sirius just smiles and offers him clues, and when he gets it, he cheers and gives Pete a big tick on the page because he’s noticed that instant reward makes Peter feel better and helps him improve faster. And Sirius knows Peter isn’t dumb, it’s just the content they’re learning is so heavy it’s hard for some people to remember and the study method that all of their friends have adopted just doesn’t work for Peter. He needs repetition, and visuals, and can remember things better that he hears than reads. So Sirius reads to him, gets the information in his head before handing Pete the questions, or parchment for his essays. And he never does Pete's homework for him, like James and Remus offer to do in exchange for stuff, because he knows Pete can actually do it if given the right assistance and taught the information in a way that’s more consumable to him, because he knows it will make Pete feel so good to get a high grade on something he did himself.

It’s only after school that Sirius stops being such a dick to Peter all the time. They’re all moved out, all in one little house, each with their own rooms. Over the summer, he’s still a bit of a dick, but once life snaps back, it slows. James’ has gone on to play quidditch professionally, so he’s out training a lot. Remus has gone to university, so he’s either there, out with his new friends, or crammed in his room studying.

Pete’s just got a little job down the street in the bakery, he’s always been good at baking, and it helps pay the bills whilst he figures out what career he’d like, because two days in his fancy ministry job he quit from boredom. He works the opening shift, getting up at three every morning, cooking fresh treats and breads for the day, and working until about 11 am.

Sirius is bartending, working late hours because it’s the best pay, and he’s always been a night owl. On weekends, he often gets home after Peter has already left. They all joke about all the birds Sirius would be getting, working at the pub like that, and he likes to talk about all the pretty girls that come in and flirt with him. But he doesn’t really talk about fucking them or anything, never brings anyone home.

Since Remus and James are never home in the afternoon (with the exception of Remus in his room, with his headphones on, deep studying sometimes), it’s just Peter and Sirius in the house. Sirius wakes up about the time Peter gets home from work, sometimes later if he worked till the early hours of the morning. Pete usually brings home baked goods for their lunch (Sirius’ breakfast) and they sit and chat and eat. Sometimes they watch the telly, sometimes they get to cleaning, sometimes they hang outside if the weathers nice, sometimes they play chess, sometimes Peter keeps Sirius company whilst he works on his motorbike.

They just spend a lot of time together, and suddenly Sirius isn’t being a dick to him, only when James and Remus are around. Eventually, Peter picks up on this and starts to over analyse the shit out of it.

One evening, Peter and Sirius are cooking dinner together, James out late for practice and Remus out with his university friends. Sirius doesn’t start work till later in the evening, so he’s decided to cook a roast, since he loves being in the kitchen, and Peters assisting him, whilst preparing a nice apple pie to go after. There's a moment, when they both go for a knife at the same time, their hands brushing together at the knuckle, and Sirius just looks at him. Peter feels like his head is on fire. But just as quickly as it started, the moments over in a flash, and Sirius is laughing, handing Peter the knife before grabbing his own different one and getting on with it.

And then Remus gets home, and a bloke’s with him, a guy they've all met from his literature class. He’s a muggle, so they immediately stash their wands away and stop the self stirring charm on the apples. Between dinner and dessert, the five of them, Remus interrupts to tell the group that the bloke is actually his boyfriend, and he’s queer.

Immediately James is telling him that it’s brilliant and asking questions about their relationship, in full support of it. And of course, Petes smiling at Remus and going along with James because he actually already knew. They clocked each other a few years back. And then suddenly Sirius is asking questions, but not questions like James and Peter, questions about whether or not their parents are okay with it, and why they feel comfortable coming out now and why James is so okay with it- and then he’s saying “me too”. And he starts crying, and apologising for taking the moment away from Remus and his boyfriend, but he’s just never felt safe enough to say it and never felt okay about being queer, and always overcompensates to hide it and suppress it, but everyone here is supportive and blah blah blah.

And then Peter gets it.

Why Sirius is so weird around Pete, why he puts up fences and acts like a dick around other people but is so soft and kind when it’s just the two of them, alone. Why, as a kid, he teased Peter and stole his things, because it got Sirius his attention in a way that was concealable. Why he willingly spends so much time with him in the afternoons now, and why he actually seeks Peter out after work and in the evenings, and says goodnight before Pete goes to bed or if they pass each other in the early early mornings. Why he felt like his head was on fire in the kitchen earlier.

It’s why Sirius keeps stealing tiny looks at Peter over their apple pie, red faced (partly from crying but it deepens when Peter catches him looking) and stuttering over his words whenever they talk to each other now.

They don’t get to talk about it, because Sirius has to quickly rush out the door realising he's late for work after dinner, and since it’s a Thursday he gets home just after Petes left for work, so they don’t find each other until the next day. Petes bought home Sirius’ favourite bakery item for their lunch, and they talk, and Sirius thunks his head on the table and confesses, and rambles on about how he’d do all those things because he liked Peter, but apologises still for being a dick, and he expects rejection. But holy shit, Sirius Black is in love with Peter Pettigrew?

They become boyfriends, obviously. When James and Remus get home that evening, takeout is on the table and Pete and Sirius are nowhere to be seen. As they’re stuffing their faces with Chinese take out, they suddenly hear a banging and high pitched moans of Peter's name and decide to take their dinner outside. James is just glad he doesn’t have to keep dropping subtle hints to Sirius anymore that he’s clearly gay and in love with Peter.

Anyway, I got a little carried away, but them, I think it could be a really juicy dynamic.

Pair it with cannon and UGH it’s worse.

#jay writes #padtail #peter x sirius #🫶 Multiship Mondays 🫶#sirius black #peter pettigrew #marauders era #rarepair #marauders rairepair #mwpp #sirius x peter #padfoot #wormtail #padfoot x wormtail #ficlet

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gatoluva · 4 months ago

Text

" Just a kiss. "

Lisa x Shrunken Mona WLW, G/T, SFW, MAFIA AU?? 3637 Words, moves a little slow at the beginning. Forgive me if this isn't my best writing. Open for requests.

It was a cold, rainy, dark evening. A day that the clouds swirled gray and the air was muggy from the rain, weather that anyone would find displeasure of- even those who claim to ‘love’ the rain. For Mona Megistus, it was also a hungry, hungry day, the mora-less girl hadn’t eaten- and the stars were not working in her favor this evening. She had low, long, dark purple-ombre pigtails, her outfit was mostly thrifted or donated to her, which was a black fluffy jacket, a black crop top, and purple denim jeans with black, platform boots. She walked the city’s empty streets, nobody was out because of the weather, but she had nowhere to go- bars didn’t want ‘homeless’ folks and she didn’t exactly have a home. All the girl wanted was something to munch on, but she probably can’t count on that happening this evening. So, she continued her walk, shuffling her tarot deck in her hands.

That was until she passed by a shop with a blinding, neon purple sign that read ‘free samples’, she stopped in her tracks as she approached the shop’s window. It didn’t look like any food place, that was weird, but the sign next to the neon letters also read it was a new recipe that needed reviews, so maybe it was an up and coming business. New business or not, Mona was hungry and just reading the word ‘food’ had her stomach roaring, reminding her of the cavern she needed to feed. The girl pushed open the door to the store, a ringing sound immediately cued as she entered and a girl with short green hair, a purple, long-bell sleeved and ruffled skirt dress, with thigh-high black boots turned to look at her. Mona feels scrutinized by the lady, but as the door shut behind her and the bell stopped its chime, which was what properly greeted her instead of that staring lady, she decided to speak.

“Hello there, miss,” she started and got closer to the supposed worker, “I am Mona Megistus, pleased to be here- I have an inquiry… is that sign still valid?” The moment Mona said anything about a ‘sign’ the green-haired girl looked pleased, appearing much more attentive towards the astrologist, Mona.

“Ah! The free sample? Yes? Yes, yes, yes, a sample of our boss’s finest delicacy comes to you in a very, very short minute,” the green-haired lady spoke, patting Mona’s shoulder and quickly speeding off to a doorway with a beaded curtain- pushing through the beads making that oddly satisfying noise of beads clinking against each other, as she went to get the free sample…? The astrologist blinked, she hadn’t even gotten to respond to the strange worker before she ran off, huh, an odd-duck that lady was, and she spoke… uniquely…

Mona looked around the shop, it was almost like a library- there were books everywhere, but the counter had cases of strange little potions, jewelry, and such. Almost like a magic shop… interesting. The green-haired lady came back out with a plastic container of a mysterious-looking baked good, if Mona wasn’t so hungry, surely she’d decline, but she hasn’t eaten for awhile and something like this would be fulfilling. “Our finest batch, just for you Miss Megistus~” The green-haired girl almost hissed Mona’s name, sounding almost snake-like, it was creepy in a way, but Mona bowed her head, “Why thank you, about time I’m shown some respect.” The purple-haired astrologist took the container, then the moment she looked up the green-haired girl was gone, Mona heard those beads clank- huh, it seems she went to the back again.

Mona stared at the food, she didn’t have any utensil to eat this with, but whatever, it’s not like she hadn’t eaten with her hands before. She pinched out a piece of the food, forcing it onto her tongue and closed her mouth, chewing on it slowly. The texture was pleasing and the taste was impeccable- it was almost like it was custom-made to all her ideal likings. Of course, this made Mona only eat the dish quicker, it was so delicious, drool-worthy even, and soon enough the hungry astrologist scarfed down the whole meal. That was a free sample? It should be with a kazillion mora with how tasty it was, she lowered the container once she finished, rubbing her now happy and full stomach.

Although that food was delicious, after a minute or so of consuming it- she started to feel ill… “Oh my, maybe I ate too fast…” she mumbled to herself because surely that was a logical explanation for eating the food. Mona looked around for a seat inside of the shop, oh lovely, in the corner of the store there’s a little corner couch with shelves surrounding, that should be a good spot to relax at until she feels better. The astrologist approached the couch, taking a seat with a hand on her stomach and laying the empty container on the floor. Mona starts to feel rather sleepy, normally she wouldn’t fall asleep inside of a place like this, but it was almost as if the food was laced with something to make her sleep almost immediately- before her eyes shut, the world was blurry but she did see a shadow of someone’s figure approach her, until everything went black and the astrologist fell asleep.

Hours later, Mona felt her consciousness be regained- and could hear faint talking, until she felt a gigantic thud below her, recognizing she was laid on the ground and the thud shook her entire being! “Huuh, wha… happened…” she asks aloud, her speaking was slurred and slow, while her eyes slowly opened. The world was still blurry and she needed to regain her focus, looking around, everything seemed so tall, no, like really tall. The astrologist kept turning her head until she saw the green-haired girl by her, collapsed onto the floor, but the difference was the girl was humongous compared to Mona! The astrologist widened her eyes, quickly standing up but feeling herself get a little woozy once she stood.

“It’s alright, little one, that lady is all taken care of,” a feminine voice cooed from about a sky-scraper's height above. Mona slowly tilted her head back, looking all the way up, and realized the darkness was from being completely enveloped in a woman’s shadow, her eyes focused on the lady above, she was brunette, sort of long hair- at least a little below her shoulder, she was wearing black dress pants, black heels, a white dress shirt with a loose black tie, and a blazer over it. She wore excessive jewelry, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets. If Mona wasn’t scared of this unknown lady, she would swoon from how beautiful she was, but she knew nothing of this lady- she didn’t know if there were any cruel intentions or what. Mona backed away a few steps, her brows furrowed, and she looked almost defensive. However, she looked over at the collapsed green-haired girl, and something tells Mona that it’s that lady’s fault she’s this size, and that the brunette saved her. Oh the little astrologist felt so conflicted.

Suddenly, the brunette girl started squatting down, gah- just what is she doing! Mona jumped back another step, squinting up at the lady. “Not much of a talker, are you?” The brunette girl asked with a head tilt, her eyes were so full, a pretty green that reminded Mona of a tsavorite crystal, but they were full of untrusting curiosity, the lady seemed mischievous which raised the astrologist’s guard. Though, Mona can’t get away with silence forever. “I am Mona Megistus,” she introduced with a sharp, prideful tone, “I demand that you tell me who you are and what you’re here for!” The puny astrologist crossed her arms and turned away, closing her eyes, acting as if she threw a fit, but opened an eye that glared at Lisa, just to make sure her eyes were still on the lady. Just to watch out for any unpredicted movements, of course. The brunette giggled and that confused Mona, she felt like it was disrespectful in some way, but then the brunette softly spoke, “That is fair, miss Megistus,” she nodded toward the smaller and sighed. “I am Lisa, I came here originally to shake this lady down for something, but then I saw her over here standing over you, and I’ve met this lady before- she has nothing but cruel intentions, so I saved you, you should really thank me, cutie,” Lisa said and shot a wink at the astrologist.

Mona arched a brow at the wink. Really? Thank her? The astrologist shook her head, “Alright, find out how I shrunk then, Miss Lisa.” The purple-haired girl ordered, facing toward the brunette again. “Trust me, I intend on doing that, but that’s the least of my concerns right now… Mona. I have other business I need to focus on.” The astrologist frowned, “Like what?” Lisa is taken aback a tad by the question, “That isn’t your business,” she assertively says. The lady seems secretive.

The brunette seemed like she was about to get up, the purple-haired astrologist really didn’t want to be left here alone, and she’d rather be with someone she has somewhat made acquaintance to. “Wait!” Mona ran up a little closer to the lady, and the brunette paused. “Hmm, what is it, little one?”

“I can’t help but feel my size could be fate, and if it is I’d rather be stuck with someone that the stars tell me I am safe with, and I think you’re the closest person I am safe with for the time being,” Mona quickly explained, placing her hands in front of herself, hand in hand, politely. Lisa grew a pleasant smile at the explanation, “Miss Megistus, it almost sounds like you’re saying we are fate,” she teased. The astrologist crossed her arms immediately, “That is not what I am saying, I would really just like to be with someone who can protect me, and seeing that that miss over there is on the floor knocked out, you seem like someone who can protect me,” she more specifically explained. Lisa seemed amused by the re-explaining done by the astrologist, she held back her giggle though and offered her hand to Mona to climb onto then. “Then come with me, Miss Megistus.” The astrologist stared at Lisa’s hand being offered, it was gloved and looked so inviting. “I- well, alright then,” Mona dipped her head in a bow, then approached the giant hand. This hand could have the strength to pin her down or hold her inside of its first entirely, it was sort of thrilling thinking of the power it had, the power Lisa had, and that the woman didn’t use it against the astrologist, she felt oddly safe. Mona climbed into the hand, centering herself in the middle of the woman’s palm then looked up at her. “Thank you, Miss Lisa, that comes from the stars and I,” she says softly. The corners of Lisa’s lips pulled into another pleasant smile, “Of course, anything for a little cutie such as yourself,” she replied which made the small astrologist blush, and then the brunette stood herself up.

A small gust of wind brushed through Mona’s hair as Lisa stood, she looked around at everything, it was so high up and slightly amazing. Something in Mona’s gut and brain strike fear in her, being so high up, if she dropped… that surely would be death, but something about Lisa is so comforting, so ensuring that she wouldn’t ever predict being dropped, not even the stars could predict something that is surely unlikely to occur. What was it about this woman that made her feel so safe? While Mona thought Lisa had already walked out of the store and held Mona close to her chest so she was safe in her hold, Once the astrologist realized how quickly they’ve moved, she started thinking more about her own size than thinking about her carrier, Lisa. If Mona had to walk this distance on her own, surely it’d take like… a day or more. Mona couldn’t possibly survive at this size on her own, she’s already struggling at normal-sized…

“Little one?” Lisa asked, noticing the smaller silence had taken up for quite a while, and the astrologist was staring off into the distance as if wrapped in endless thoughts. Yet, Lisa got no response, Mona was still thinking, the brunette blinked and raised her free hand, gently poking the astrologist. The purple-haired girl squeaked in surprise, scooting from the gloved finger and staring at it. “Little one…” Lisa called again. “Oh- huh, wha…?” Mona asks, looking back at the lady’s face with confusion. “Nothing, I wanted to check if you were alright.” The purple-haired girl’s heart doted on that sentence for a bit, she’d never been checked on before, being alone for a while on the streets- fending for food, shelter, etc. Nobody has ever cared for her until this woman came along, saving her and now allowing Mona to tag along with her for protection. Lisa was unaware of the sentiment she had just given the astrologist.

Things were getting darker though and slightly began to reek as Lisa walked down an alleyway, Mona was confused, looking up at Lisa expecting an answer just by her glare. “Where are we going?” Lisa glanced down at Mona with the question, “Well, you should know that I am affiliated with a group… and I need to take care of some business, as stated previously,” she said, kind of circling around the question- not giving a direct answer, could she really trust this girl? While she might be small, it doesn’t mean she should doubt her capabilities of going out and about saying stuff, or maybe jumping into things that roar danger.

Mona felt weird anxiety at that response and began looking around, “Lisa, tell me or the stars will-” she threatened weakly, and at that Mona shrieked in surprise as she was shoved inside of Lisa’s blazer pocket by her waist. Lisa’s gloved hand kept Mona pinned in there and the fabric silenced Megistus, “Give me a second,” she whispered for Mona to hear and approached one of her henchmen. “Hello Kaeya,” the brunette greeted, stopping before him. Kaeya was tall, somewhat taller than Lisa, and had brown skin. He wore an eye patch and had his long, blue hair tied back with some of his bang covering the eye patch. He wore a white collared shirt with a black vest on top, black slacks, and black combat boots. Kaeya tossed a coin up into the air, catching it in his hand and looking toward Lisa with a sly, catty smirk. “Hello boss,” he returned the greeting and slid the coin into his pocket. “So, what will I be up to today?” Kaeya requested for an order, always wanting to be on his feet doing something, it was boring if he had no heavy work to take care of, Lisa knew that though, always sending the blue-haired boy running around places. “Can you do some research on that magic shop run by Katarina, the mage? Something about that free sample is off, I want all the information on it, immediately…” Lisa sharply ordered. “You’ve got it boss, but why the sudden interest?” Kaeya was nosy, he tried to press on the subject and pray some more details out of Lisa, what is so interesting about that magic store?

“Oh nothing~ I’m just as curious as always, Kaeya,” she said and stepped past him, raising her hand that wasn’t pinning Mona in the pocket to nudge him forward, “go along now, I want that information quickly,” Lisa forced him out then. The blue haired man was suspicious, but he’ll do as ordered. The brunette waited for him to be fully out of the alleyway, she walked deeper inside to her base and brought Mona back out as she walked. “Hypothetically speaking, of course,” she winked, “I am hypothetically the ringleader of a mafia, but do not fret, Megistus, I don’t come in harm- to you anyways, you’re far too cute for me to want to hurt little old you.”

Mona had no idea what to feel with Lisa’s words, the interaction she had to hear between some ‘Kaeya’ guy and the woman that she was in the hands of. Just what has Mona gotten herself wrapped up in? Some mafia clan? She furrowed her brows, not sure how to handle this, sure this woman helped her but is also involved in crimes. How can she trust a criminal such as Lisa? Her eyes become pupils that translate into terror, the terror of being clueless and unable to process what she’s going through. “Do you expect me to just trust you, Miss Lisa? I- forgive me, I need a moment,” Mona escapes into her thoughts, closing her eyes and thinking about the stars, the only guidance Mona really needs is from the stars, what she trusts to be true. What does fate have in store for the astrologist?

Lisa understood the other’s hesitance to immediately trust her, if she were Mona- she’d feel the same, so the brunette is patient, pausing on her walk to the base to give Mona the time she needs. “I have given you thought, even though I, Mona Megistus, find it distrustful and disrespectful you didn’t tell me the truth of your identity sooner- I am willing to repair that tear in this friendship and allow you to regain my trust, If I’m honest, maybe earlier you weren’t far off- pairing us two as fate because the stars and my astrology tell me to trust you, even if what you do is… fairly immoral, there isn’t much I can do… being so… small…” she shivered at mentioning her size, just processing how big the world was compared to her again. The brunette arched a brow at that realization and also smirked, “Aw, really? Well if you say we are fate, miss ‘Astrologist’ then I suppose I should trust you, you’re the professional here in all things fate,” she says with assumption, daring to flirt with Mona, which brings the small purple haired girl to shock.

Suddenly, Mona feels the hands below her raise her up higher, “Um- Lisa, what is it that you’re doing? I just said I trust you, don’t make me take that back…” Then, Lisa’s big lips came into Mona’s frame, they had a purplish-red shade on them, it suited Lisa’s face beautifully.Her skin was so clear, it looked so soft and Mona wanted to lay her hand on the other’s face, but she couldn’t. That’d be inappropriate, wouldn’t it? She had just met this lady, and she’s feeling intense emotions over her, maybe shrinking has driven Mona insane. Lisa brought Mona higher, to the waterline of her eye, squinting at her, “Forgive me if I’m mistaken, Mona, but weren’t you just admiring me?” She asked, Lisa is well aware that Mona was, but she likes seeing the little one falter.

“Me?” Mona asks, putting a hand on her chest and referencing herself. “Please, Lisa, you suddenly raised me to your lips- of course, I’m going to look in confusion, that is far intimidating,” she responded. The brunette sighed, “What’s intimidating about them? Are they too chapped for you? Do you think I’m going to eat you? Aw, you really are bite-size, but I am not interested in making you a meal- that is… inhumane of me, Miss Megistus.” If this were a cartoon, Mona’s eyes would swirl and she’d faint with a beet-red face, however, her cheeks do pinken at the idea. “What?! This is absurd, Lisa, none of those options–” Lisa giggled at Mona, and that is when Mona realized Lisa was just teasing her. “What if I gave you a kiss?” The brunette proposed, and Mona furrowed her brows, a kiss?

“I think I need you to provide me with more details than just that, Miss Lisa,” Mona said slowly, ensuring she understood Lisa correctly. The woman wanted to kiss her? What? Lisa smirked at the fact the astrologist didn’t exactly decline it. “I press my lips against you, a kiss, doesn’t exactly have to be romantic, it’s just an idea floating within my head, and probably yours with all your admiration,” she says with a little hum. The purple-haired girl sounds exasperated, obviously flustered with the accusation and the idea of being kissed by this woman. “Well, if you’re going to accuse me of wanting a kiss from you, then I guess… kissing me wouldn’t hurt, would it?” Mona gave in weakly, looking away from the giant woman. Lisa giggled, “What? You want me to kiss you, Mona? But we had just met,” she teased. “Oh- I thought you were rather… serious…” Mona trailed off, somewhat disappointed, thinking it was all just a pointless tease. The astrologist should’ve expected that from the brunette- she doesn’t seem the type to just give away kisses from those lovely, lovely lips, just like that… That was where Mona was quickly proven wrong. The little astrologist was lowered and brought towards a giant pair of soft, plump lips, that puckered around her entire body and smooched her. The astrologist squirmed at the quickness of it but leaned into the lips after a second, oh they were soft- and they were of a lovely and enchanting woman. However, it felt so wrong at the same time considering the reminder in her head that the two just met. If the brunette didn’t mind though, and Mona didn’t mind, then it should be okay for now. It was in fact, just a kiss.

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