#my whole outfits tomorrows going to be green so it would make more sense to bring haru

[red-dyed-sarumane]

i actually won a crane game today can u believe it. look at my fox.

[corruptedcaps]

Clumsy Me

“It’s a super kind gesture Greg but are you sure there are no other pairs of pants I can wear? Not that I’m not grateful but skin tight leggings aren’t really my style. Plus I know your stepmom Madison ran out on you and your dad like a year ago but she’d kill me if she saw me in a pair of her slick black pants. You’re right beggars can’t be choosers put this is just until my own jeans dry in your machine ok? Still can’t believe I tripped like that, did you always have that foot stool there? Whatever, just give me a minute to change.”

“Well what do you think? You hate it right? Wait you like it? I guess it is kind of nice, it makes my figure kind of pop doesn’t it? I never thought I’d have the body to pull off anything like this. Can’t believe I’m the same size as you step mom too. Could never wear some of the things she has in there though. All that luxurious fur, expensive jewelry, and those plunging necklines, I could never! Oh whoops I’m so clumsy today, I’ve gone and spilled the second drink you got me on my top. I’ll just sneak back into your step mom’s closet and find something to wear.”

“There we go, now I’m all dry and warm, despite this new top not covering my navel. When I put it on I realized that something was missing and somehow I knew this belt would tie everything together. I feel so stylish, like one of those bougy bitches at school. Do you think if I wore this to school tomorrow they would notice? I promise I’ll bring it all back after school tomorrow. Thanks!”

“I know I know I said I would bring the clothes back and I have but I just had to borrow some others. My outfit was a big hit with Cassandra and all her friends, they said I showed real promise! Can you believe that? Only last week they were picking on me. But if I show up tomorrow wearing my usual drab unfashionable outfits they’ll start bullying me again. Plus don’t I look kind of hot in this new combo? I’ve never worn such high boots before or such a short skirt. It’s hard to explain but the clothes just kind of call to me and each piece I choose just makes sense. I never had an eye for fashion before but these clothes are bringing the inner designer out in me and I can’t deny the results!”

“Hey there handsome, I need to get a new outfit for tomorrow. The girls were in awe yet again. They were right too, I do look better without my glasses. My head is swimming with ideas of what to wear, it was all I could think of last night. What do you mean no? Greg you don’t understand, I need to keep up appearances otherwise I’m toast! Plus your stepmom isn’t around anymore! Still no huh? Well that’s a shame, because you know what else I was thinking last night? I was thinking how if I have to come over everyday to change then you and I should have some fun too. Don’t be coy, I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me. Look how about you see the lingerie I borrowed, see wouldn’t you like to see me in more?”

“How did I get in here? I made a copy of your key, duh! If I’m going to be your girlfriend I need to be able to get inside your house when you’re not here. Aren’t you glad I did, like look at this new outfit I put together, all the girls are going to be green with envy when they see me. One of them was telling me that Cassandra was starting to feel threatened by my style, that she thinks I’m going to take over the clique! Can you believe that? Me?! It is kind of hot to think of though, me taking over a group of girls who used to bully me and taking down the head bitch herself. Mmmm it’s got me kind of wet, how about you be a good boyfriend and get our knees for me. There’s a reason why I’m wearing a skirt after all.”

“You’re breaking up with me? Why? I have not become a bully! Cassandra was the biggest bitch in our school, I just took her down several pegs. In front of the whole school. While she cried. Sure I made all her old friends block her on socials and refuse to talk to her ever again but she deserved it and now that all her friends are mine now I can run the school how it should be. If that means some of life’s losers get bullied then so be it, they don’t deserve my pity or yours. Come on baby I’m offering you the chance to become king, don’t let your morals get in the way of having me as your queen. Fine if that’s how you feel then fuck you loser, you small dicked prick. I only was with you to get access to you stepmom’s clothes, but I don’t need them or you! So long dork!”

“Oh it’s you creep. Surprised to see me in your house? Well I had every intention of never seeing you again but I was wrong about what I said last week. What? About you? Don’t be stupid, I meant about the clothes. I do NEED them! I bought some hawt clothes of my own but it just wasn’t the same. They weren’t expensive and slutty enough. I was feeling my confidence and power draining over the past few days but now that I’m back in Madison’s clothes I’m feeling more me again. Her bitchy perfume still lingers in their fabric and it’s makes me feel so bad! Your dad let me in and said I should just take whatever I wanted. He was just so accommodating after I put on Madison’s tightest clothes and gave him the best blowjob of his life. He said I should come back everyday and I fully intend on doing so.”

“Mmm your father was right, blonde does make me look older, more mature, more sexy. Wasn’t Madison a blonde? Why am I even asking you, it will only distract you from cooking. To think a few months ago I was giving you the best handjobs of your life so I could have access to Madison’s clothes and now I’m your dad’s fiancée and all the clothes are mine! You could have had me you know? You could have had this perfect ass but you were worried I had become a bully or some nonsense. Your father loves what a bitch I am and encourages me to be a mean spoilt brat by letting me buy whatever I want. Having access to his money allowed me to buy the clothes I deserved! That’s why I love him unconditionally. It certainly helps he’s so well hung, something you never inherited. Speaking of which I think I just heard him come in, I think he and I can slip in a quickie while you cook. Stay if you want to watch perv.”

“Don’t look at me worm, just keep scrubbing the floors. Your father and I want this place spotless when we return from our honeymoon but before we leave I just wanted to tell you a secret. I’m pregnant. I have no doubt it will be a girl and I’m going to raise her to be the biggest, meanest slut there even has been. She’ll have everything her cruel heart desires and I’m going to spoil her rotten. She’ll have my fashion sense of course and your father’s ruthless business acumen. What do you think of Maddy for her name, short for Madison? She’ll be such a wicked princess, and you? Well you’ll be here cleaning the floors everyday for the rest of your life. On that note… oooops I’ve spilled my drink all over your clean floor. I guess I’m just so clumsy.”

[withthebigbendyhorns]

ok FINE. i enjoyed loki season 2. or at least the last 2 episodes. if you're interested in my other thoughts you can see them under the cut

there are a lot of thing i like about season 2 but i've gotta be honest before i go any further: i have largely moved on from my mcu hyperfixation. marvel and disney are shit and if news came that they're shutting everything down tomorrow i would be delighted. i'm really only still here for loki and tony. i love the art i love the fic but i'm not interested whatsoever in participating with the larger fandom or what have you. also, don't take me seriously. i am a picky bitch. just some guy on the internet. if you loved everything about this show don't let me take that away from you. i love you

i don't think the show overall is good at developing it's characters, which can be for any number of reasons. something i've noticed from more recent disney/marvel stuff: they are good at finding people who can write powerful endings/3rd acts. but until it gets there i just feel like i'm being strung along and shown things that are happening but not how they all fit together. like little bits and pieces of itself, as opposed to a complete picture. at times it feels rushed and unfinished, which with disney's track record makes a lot of sense.

i have grown to hate the little mcu-isms where someone says a joke or does a thing and then there's a small pause where it's like the screen is telling you "please clap". it used to be when they did this what happened made sense, now it just feels like something for them to throw jibberish onto and hope it sticks. not every time but when it falls flat it really irks me.

that green bastard twink should've kissed that old man.

now let's get to what i do like. i love that loki isn't nerfed anymore!! every time he got to do magic shit i was poggin. he was so slay

i LOVE ouroboros. i love him and victor they are so cute them a thousand times over. at any given moment i am giving ouroboros little kisses and pats on the head

i love jet ski mobius!!!!!! YES!!!! and he's a single dad???? his name is DON????? god he's so perfect. i love the character development, how they show that he wants to know about his real life as much as anybody but that he's afraid of what he'll see. i love the end scene where mobius says he just wants to sit and let time pass. he likes key lime pies and hot chocolate EVEN when everything is exploding and GOOD FOR HIM!!!!

personally, i feel like loki would've changed his outfit as soon as he got his magic back. but godDAMN if it wasn't satisfying when he does it at the end. i did like where each character ended up at. i loved that the throne loki has been after this whole time is one he has to earn, and that it's different than one he expected, it's one that holds much more weight. i love that

i love the themes about hope and nuturing. any media that goes for saying something about trying even when it seems stupid and useless in this media landscape gets a big hug from me.

and i LOVE that loki and mobius repeatedly choose each other over and over. mobius is the first person loki goes to for guidance after he figures it all out, among other little moments i forgor bc yayyy adhd. when i rewatch i'll update this if i remember hehe

[taechaos]

A Thriller Film

pairing: director!Jungkook x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere, smut

synopsis: Jungkook's life is his movies, but people don't know his movies are his life. As an anonymous director, no one can suspect him as the villain in a story, but he leaves a clue in his movie about you.

warnings: smoking, stalking, murder, solo masturbation, public fingering

word count: 5.4k

a/n: i don't know why i put so much effort into this but we love to see it flop 🥰

Smoking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Jungkook noticed you for the first time when a cigarette was hanging off his lips, exhaling the stress from the process of organizing a new thriller film with a less than cooperative crew. Fresh out of high school, you were bright and skipping on the sidewalk in the early hours of the morning. What would such a young woman, applying for colleges left and right, be so happy about?

He didn't know you at the time, but looking at you was like a breath of fresh air. While he survived off of coffee and nicotine, you seemed to have a lot of happiness to share. Your smile was incompatible with his frown.

So he ignored you when you passed him with your earphones blasting a song so loud, he involuntarily caught the lyrics.

Fall... back... in... to... place.

The second time he saw you, he was smoking again and you were just as happy as the day before. How can someone be so in tune with themselves, with life? The same song played from your earphones, the one he listened to on repeat after searching up the lyrics: Space Song. An urge to approach you surged up in him, but he only watched you as you walked past him. A single glance from you was all it took to anticipate tomorrow.

Today, when he recognizes you from your clothing first; colorful, silky, gorgeous. So much personality in one outfit, a polar opposite to his casual black outfit in jeans and a plain shirt. Even your bag is eye-catching, and he flicked the ash off of his cigarette before nodding at you as you passed the bus stop, reaching the front of his studio.

Why did your eyes just widen? You acknowledge him with a friendly smile, and go on your merry way. That is until he lightly taps your shoulder, and you turn instantly.

"Hey," he greets before you can utter a word, "where are you always rushing off to?"

Your lips part in surprise; the man you secretly - guiltily - side-eyed for the past few days noticed you when you weren't looking? "I have an interview. Well, a few," you chuckle.

"For what?" he tilts his head curiously and takes another drag from his stick.

"Career counseling," you plainly reply, but it sounds enthused. "I'm a clueless graduate." Your hands clutch your tote bag before you discreetly check the time on your wrist. You're going to be running late soon.

"You interested in cinematography?" Smoke follows his words, but you aren't fazed.

"I'm interested in all forms of art, why?"

He notices you checking your watch again. "I'm a film director. This is my studio," he cranes his neck behind him. "You can apply for an internship here. Maybe for a stylist even," he points at your floral romper with his chin as his eyes trail.

You shift your weight on your left foot when his stare flusters you, and you consider his flattering suggestion for only a second before saying, "thank you for the offer, but I need to go now," you grimace sheepishly, "can I think about it?"

"Take your time," he reassures with a sly smile and inhales from his stick, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of your perfume alongside.

He doesn't look away when you walk off with a shy wave, entranced by your struts until he's called back in. It's with newfound inspiration that he's inside of his studio.

The storyboard of his upcoming project needs a few tweaks, and he doesn't fail in enhancing his crew with a different idea.

It’s been a week. Okay, it might’ve been shorter, but Jungkook is impatient. Besides, it didn’t help when he saw you holding hands with someone... so less than. It really baffled him to see you with a guy who wore such shabby clothes. He looks like the type that Jungkook would cast for a flop character.

The two of you are like a toy display across his studio in that cutesy, obnoxious café with a smoothie in the middle of your booth. He chuckles as he lights up another stick when he notices the two straws in the single cup. Cliché, cheesy, but cute in a childish sense. Your age shines through the amateur romance between you and that loser.

It especially shows when you look to the side with a laugh and lock eyes with him; so flustered that you gasp and focus back on your date. What makes you so shy about seeing him? You seemed so confident during your conversation two days ago.

He whistles when he notices a stray dog in an alleyway. You look at him as well but don't hear anything beyond the glass wall, but it catches his attention regardless. He whistles again before saying in a hushed voice, "come here girl." It's difficult to suppress a smile when you gaze at him questioningly, as if trying to decipher his words. "Naive little girl," he mouths as he smokes, "what are you doing with that boy?"

He almost chokes when you take out your wallet in front of a waiter; are you paying for him? That's why you ordered one drink - so you could share? Jungkook isn't cruel but, he finds it laughable that your boyfriend is so... unappealing. He can't help but wonder why you're with him; maybe his face? The boy is somewhat handsome, but he only has his facial features to go by. It's rather strange for Jungkook to think about this in the first place, so he gets back inside his workplace after harshly shooing the stray dog away with a stomp of his foot.

"I'd like to start my internship today."

Jungkook runs his eyes up and down your body while leaning against a brick wall. "Paid?"

"I-I'll do it for free. Besides, I don't know if I'll even work in this industry," you twiddle your fingers while smiling up at him. He intimidates you, but this morning you decided you did enough thinking and here you are, an aspiring stylist all of a sudden.

"Get inside," he nods at the door before stubbing his cigarette and following you to his studio. "You know what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to decide the outfits, right?" The place looks cozy to you, with its minimalistic interior design and blunt switch between the stories. The first floor is strictly for business, with lined up cameras, lights and a microphone. There is even a green screen! And the second floor seems to be more of a resting area with its couches and open laptops, but you can't make out much from the entrance. Jungkook starts walking ahead of you, making a beeline for the black stairs. You tail behind him and smile at anyone who notices you, which isn't a lot of people. It's not crowded.

"Right. We're still working on a storyline, haven't finished it yet so it's possible this project might not be published. You with me so far?" he glances at you, and at your firm nod, continues, "when we finish planning, scripting and shit, you come to play."

"So what do I do now?" you innocently inquire and watch him plop down on the red velvet couch. He clicks on the space of his keyboard to light up his screen.

"I have an idea for a character, and I want to know how you would design her," he vaguely explains as he scrolls through his document.

"You want me to sketch it or explain?"

"Let's hear you out first. Irene," he suddenly calls out loudly.

"Yes?" a female responds from downstairs. You see a woman with a grey cap look up at him, her attire nothing short of casual.

"Come here."

She skips a few steps while climbing up the stairs at his command. You're not awkward when you greet her, and she offers a coy smile.

"This girl - what did you say your name was?" he asks you. You tell him and he continues, "she's going to be our intern. I want you to critique her with me."

"What's she in for?" Irene asks before sitting across from him.

"Wardrobe stylist."

Her eyes widen as she takes a second look at you. Your style is definitely unique, but... immature. She has half the mind to not question Jungkook about his choice.

"Okay..." she trails. "I'm Irene, by the way. I'm going to be an executive producer for the upcoming film."

"Nice to meet you," you brightly chirp. "Sir?"

Jungkook smirks at your addressing of him. "Yes?"

"What is your name, if I may ask?"

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, but you may know me for my pen name Shin Dong-hyuk."

Your mouth falls open when you instantly recognize the name. "Wait, what? You directed My Time?" you incredulously wonder aloud.

My Time is a movie that took the world by a storm; it brought recognition to the whole country for its popularity and clever writing. You never knew the name was a pseudonym, however. It's a suspense genre, about the life of a crazed fanboy who is obsessed with a foreign celebrity. He stalks her on the internet, has a fanpage of her and pays a hefty amount of money to strangers to update him on her whereabouts. He's portrayed as a young college student in the story, and inevitably runs out of cash from reckless spending. When she gets into a dating scandal, he goes on a theft spree and flies out to meet and confront her. It ends with her murder when he finds her with another man in a hotel room, and he stabs himself in the heart afterwards. There are a bunch of clues that foreshadow his ending, from his family life to his friendships. It's an amazing thriller, and you researched his name in the credits to find more of his works after seeing the movie but to no avail; there is only one listed.

"That's me," he nonchalantly reveals as if he didn't just give you the shock of your life. "Don't tell anyone though, will you?"

You whimsically put on an imagery zipper over your mouth while trying to recover from your racing heart.

"I don't have a clear outline, but the female lead is going to be naive but charming. She has to stand out, alright? Happy, extraordinary, special."

"We didn't decide on that," Irene butts in with a displeased expression.

"I forgot to tell you, I deleted our previous plan."

"You did wh-"

"What do you think?" he turns to you as he ignores Irene's shrieks. "What color are you imagining?"

You feel nervous when he puts you on the spotlight after revealing his identity. You close your eyes with a deep inhale before answering, "I'm thinking red and green, like Christmas. There should be a hint of white as well."

Jungkook drinks in your outfit before grinning mischievously. "Perfect." All of your colors.

Stalking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Is it such a bad idea to follow you home when it's dark out? He kept you for a long time in the studio, allowing you to dress up a mannequin with all sorts of costumes you had in mind in the backroom. He's certain you had fun with him when you left with a permanent grin on your face.

You live with your parents, and he knows for sure he's at least 5 years older than you. You look about 19, so he's assuming he's only 8 years older.

A small villa with windows all around, he observes, before glancing back at your bedroom. The lights are on and you're swinging your legs with excitement on your bed after you face planted on the mattress. He didn't see you greet your parents before running off to your room, and he can't help the smile growing on his face at your hyperactivity. It was like an instinct to walk you home in secret and he isn't sure why he is still watching you. He should look away when you get off of your bed and heave your shirt over your chest, but instead he steps away from the lamp post to hide from the light.

You're changing, and he can't take his eyes off of you. As if that wasn't enough, you unclasp your bra without even pulling the curtains. Do you know he's there? The thought excites him, and his pants begin to tighten around his crotch. He lowly whistles at you, but you don't hear him again. You do look outside for a few seconds while stretching your arms, however, and he's certain you have a connection to him.

He leaves when you put on your pajamas with the image of your bare tits imprinted on his mind. He doesn't head home first, as the studio is only a few minutes away from your home and he wants to leave you a gift.

When the familiar building enters his vision, he doesn't waste time in unlocking the door and switching on a single dim light. He rushes to the backroom after locking the entrance for a second time and unzips his jeans as he goes. You were here not too long ago, and he can pinpoint exactly where you stood while striding to each corner with purpose. Bending, crouching, leaning, doing just about anything to tease him.

Now that he can imagine your perky nipples realistically, he immediately takes out his length from his restraints and picks up a random handkerchief to pump himself with. He doesn't stop to think over his actions; he's acting on urges, on impulse. Never has he ever done something like this.

He's rather relaxed as he sits down on an idle stool to close his eyes and run his hand up and down his shaft. What he would do to press your tits against his cock while he slides it up and down, smearing his cum all over your lips while you sleep. You would swallow it without a second thought once he finishes in your gaping mouth, and wonder why there's a dull ache in your breasts the next morning.

His breaths grow shallow the faster he strokes himself, the more he thinks about using every part of you for his pleasure while you're knocked out cold. He involuntarily thrusts into the air while quiet moans slip out of his open mouth. Something about how taboo it would be to fuck you while you're unconscious turns him on so much. Would that be something you're into?

The handkerchief is so soft, so silky against his length, he can almost imagine it to be your hand. He starts twisting his hand around his cock, from the base to the tip as his other hand palms his balls before he begins to reach climax. Strings of cusses fall out of his mouth when he quickens his pace, the fabric against his skin resounding in his ears before he finally spurts out his cum into the cloth.

"Fuck," he exhales as he coats his makeshift glove with his release. White on white doesn't make much of a difference, and he's panting as he folds the handkerchief to rub it evenly so it sinks in completely.

He leaves it on the stool after zipping his pants, and his eyes twinkle under the moonlight on his journey home.

You aren't alone when you walk to work. Jungkook is taking his usual smoke break while watching you swing your interlocked hands back and forth with the guy next to you. Your smiles exude the same aura, and Jungkook sarcastically notes how compatible the two of you are. The boxy grin shines with the sun, but it doesn't hide the boy's worn out clothes.

"Good morning, Jungkook," you greet before introducing your boyfriend. "This is Taehyung, Taehyung meet Jungkook. I'm going to be under his wing until I decide my major."

"Hello, Taehyung," Jungkook coldly says before blowing smoke in his face.

Taehyung scrunches his nose before chirping, "hi!" He then turns to you and whispers, "I thought you wanted to study medicine."

You shake your head dismissively with a light laugh before responding, "it's just an internship." You let go of his hand and bid farewell with a peck on his cheek before going inside the studio.

"Well, have a good day," Taehyung smiles as he's about to leave before Jungkook holds out his hand to block the way.

"Taehyung, who is your girlfriend?"

"Um," he furrows his brows before saying your name.

"And who are you?"

At Jungkook's blunt question, Taehyung pauses and takes a step back. "What do you mean? Like my full name?"

"No, who the fuck are you? What is your contribution to society? What do you do for a living? What are you wearing?"

"Sir, I-" Taehyung's stammering is cut short when Jungkook asks, "how much money for you to stop leeching off of her?"

He scoffs, "excuse me? I'm not leeching off of anyone, and I'm sure as hell not breaking up with her for your money." Taehyung's face heats up from the shameless confrontation, and he starts walking in the opposite direction.

"So you're not going to leave her?"

Taehyung doesn't turn to look at him as he emphasizes, "no."

"Good."

He abruptly stops in his tracks. "What?"

"Your dedication is admirable," Jungkook comments with a shrug. "I'm satisfied with your answer."

"Were you testing me?"

"Bingo."

He starts chuckling before shaking his head. "I always knew directors were crazy; you scared me for a second."

"Where you headed now?" Jungkook smoothly switches the subject, but notes the fact that you've spoken about him to your boyfriend.

"I have a farm two blocks away." When Jungkook raises a brow, he explains, "I stayed the night with her, so I decided to drop her off before leaving."

"Want me to drop you off?"

It's a kind offer, really, but Taehyung is still put off by the insults thrown his way just a minute ago. Doesn't he have work to do anyway? "That's alright, thank you, but I'll just take the bus. Have a good one, Jungkook."

Jungkook doesn't stop him as they both wave goodbye. He doesn't bother putting out his cigarette before going inside.

Where would be a farm only two blocks away from the city center? It has to be a lie.

You're wandering around the place as to not awkwardly wait for Jungkook who sharply inhales at the sight. He calls your name.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to become?"

"I," you look at him funny with a laugh, "I still don't know."

"Then take a gap year."

Your brows shoot up to your hairline. "Why?"

"I want you to be invested in this project completely. Once the planning is finished, I'll give you a salary. What do you think?"

He's asking you to work full-time for him. Not as an intern, but an employee and you are beyond willing after only being here for two days. He's a famous director; how can one pass up this opportunity?

"I'd love that."

You noticed that Jungkook has a very unique way of working. You've heard that he's been keeping his crew until late at night, already having an outline for his plot and he's moved onto screenwriting. He apparently disappears randomly throughout the evening after you leave, and you've had some different experiences with him of your own.

He asked you to steal from the wardrobe of his backroom. "Take everything that you'd wear," he said before stepping out of the room.

When you confusedly compiled all of the clothes that caught your eye under your arm, he took them from you and brought them upstairs with a huge grin. "Keep that one," he pointed at the handkerchief you thought about lacing your neck with.

Taehyung's quiet with you. He doesn't respond to your texts, doesn't call you, doesn't come over. You're too busy spending time with Jungkook to check up on him, and it serves as a well distraction when you keep glancing at your notifications. It hurts, especially when your wallpaper is a picture of you and him. It hurts because he isn't with you in your proudest moments when you were with him even at his parents' funeral.

The only thing keeping you happy is casting. Jungkook asked you to make a list of all the actors that would suit his characters after giving you a vague description of their traits. The budget isn't an issue, and you're having so much fun. He makes you forget your worries without even trying.

Jungkook intimidates you, but he's so lovely.

A mere "aspiring" stylist is casting actors for a movie. How many people can brag about that? You almost stumble on the stairs as you quickly climb up with Jungkook's laptop in your hands. He gave it to you for research purposes as he drew a rough storyboard with Irene.

"I made a list," you exclaim brightly. Heads shoot in your direction and you sheepishly grin at your volume. Jungkook's eyes linger on your covered neck; it's almost like a collar.

He whistles and beckons you to sit next to him. You obey and anxiously present your list to the professionals; you have no idea how to go on about this task, and no one guided you. You're certain you look utterly amateur in front of them.

Irene is inspecting your list without hinting her thoughts as Jungkook asks, "who are your favorites?"

"Well, I think Kim Namjoon is um, suitable for the male lead's role and Joy-"

"It's decided then," he claps his hands twice without hearing out Irene who scowls at him.

"You're not cooperating with us," she voices in a complaint, "why are you always calling the shots on your own? These are major decisions-"

"Ms. Bae, don't take any offence now. I'm taking your opinions into accounts when I make these decisions. Unless you have an issue with something, let's not dwell on this, hm?"

She sighs as you stand there awkwardly. She's upset, but stays silent.

"The two leads are Kim Namjoon and Park Soo-young. The team will decide the rest of the cast, thank you," he informs you with a ghost of a smile.

"Of course," you breathe.

You don't know how long it is supposed to take to shoot a film, but surely it's not this fast paced. Jungkook is relentless with his production; there are hardly any breaks in between takes. There are bags under his eyes from pulling all nighters to work on his scripts.

He is a perfectionist and a hard worker, as you've come to find out. You feel bad for the amount of times the actors recited their lines when they didn't capture a scene right in Jungkook's eyes. It was an honor for you to meet these famous people beyond a screen, and you were strictly ordered to do Joy's makeup only. You are her stylist, but the professional one does help you after she's finished with Namjoon's.

"Cut," Jungkook says into the speaker. You're located in a rented mansion outside of the city, but you can't enjoy it when everyone is so stressed. "Start over from line "he's leeching off of you"."

Even actors can't hide their annoyance from having to do a 25th take of one scene. Jungkook pays them enough to go on with this torture however, so they have no room to complain.

They start over and you force yourself to watch them again and again.

"Oh my god, cut!" You can hardly resist groaning yourself. Everyone on set is overworked, and you know the director has it the worst, but it's overwhelming you too at this point. You flinch when your name is called. "Act Joy's lines, will you?"

"Me?" you point at yourself in surprise.

"Go ahead," he urges with a nod.

You have no idea how to act, and it's nervewracking having to do it in front of A-listers. You pick up the script handed to you from another woman and start reading:

"He's not leeching off of me," you pause to inhale shakily; your hands tremble from the heavy stares on you.

"I'm his family, the only one he has left. No one would know if he was gone, and he trusts me to look after him without having to dangle a dollar bill over his head."

This goes on until the final scene, and the retakes cut down to half.

A few months pass, and it is time for the premiere. The movie, simply titled Pretty Girl, easily got a green light for display in theatres, and it's been heavily promoted on YouTube and TV. You are excited to your core, and watching the celebrities walk the red carpet was a first for you. Jungkook easily blends in with the crowd as he once again didn't reveal his real name in the credits, but his pen name is gaining more and more recognition. You have never seen the movie throughout the editing procedure, but you can't wait to see everyone's efforts show on the big screen.

You're dressed fancily because Jungkook asked you to go with him, and the two of you are sitting in the crowded theatre with not a single empty seat to be seen. Even the entrance is decorated in retro style to fit in with the movie's theme! The jazz music playing in the halls reaches your ears, and your knees are bouncing in anticipation of the movie. Jungkook is smiling as he listens to you ramble.

"I can't believe I played a part in this whole project!" you gush with shaking fists. "I met the best director I know, and I worked for him! This all feels like a dream... No one even likes my style, and yet I became a stylist!"

"I love your style," he denies, "even now you have all the attention in the room."

"Pfft," you roll your eyes playfully, "they all think I must look weird. I tried to wear something classy so I don't stand out, but it hasn't been working out."

"Keep it that way, you're beautiful like this."

Heat creeps up to your cheeks at his compliment and you squeak, "thank you."

He doesn't get to relish your flustered state as everyone goes quiet once the movie starts.

The time period is unclear, as the language is modern but the filter is black and white. The first scene is in a bar, a man in a suit eyeing a woman with a date who is an outcast with his clothes. They're washed out and ugly, but he looks handsome with his dazzling smile at the woman.

An involuntary grin spreads across your face when you hear their dialogue.

"I want to touch someone's shoulder to see how they react. Did you see how they looked at me when I walked in here? I think they think I'm your sugar baby or something," Jimin's character jokes with a laugh.

"I know! They're all so boujee, but I'm willing to be your mommy without sugar," Joy winks. They have fun until Jimin leaves to the bathroom and Namjoon's character approaches her, who has been staring at her ever since they walked in. Joy is offered a modeling career, and she accepts after she's told that her fashion only works with her because of how beautiful she is. She's bashful when Namjoon gives her a business card.

Jungkook's film is only over an hour long, but everything is timed so perfectly. His directory is straightforward, and you admire his work until a song comes on.

"That's my favorite song!" you whisper into his ear. It's Space Song by Beach House.

"Mine too," he whispers back.

There are montages of photo shoots, Joy's rise to fame in the modeling industry, but the trouble is Jimin, her boyfriend. Namjoon confronts him one day when Jimin drops her off to her new workplace.

"How can someone so poor be able to court a woman like her?" he asks rhetorically.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Jimin is offended until Namjoon laughs it off and reveals it was a joke. The audience sighs in relief, and all is fun and games until Jimin is brutally murdered next to a dumpster. You gasp at the gore scene and glance at Jungkook, until something dawns on you.

The story is starting to sound familiar. Was this movie inspired by your encounters? Your eyes light up as you give your utmost attention to the movie. The line between reality and fiction is beginning to blur.

Joy goes to Namjoon's house, where the dialogue you first reenacted comes to play. The shots are gorgeous, the script filled with metaphors on poverty and currency, and the romance is sickly sweet. There is a sex scene not long after... Joy forgets all about her boyfriend in the snap of Namjoon's fingers.

You tilt your head when you remember Taehyung. Where is he? How come your boyfriend didn't even show up to this life-changing experience?

Jungkook's hand slides over your thigh out of nowhere, as he murmurs, "do you mind?"

You stammer when his fingers reach under your dress to poke at your panties. "S-Sorry?"

"I said," he grazes your folds as you tense at the feather light touch, "do you mind if I touch you, pretty girl?"

Your chest heaves as your lashes flutter in a daze, but you nod nonetheless. His low raspy voice already has you clenching your thighs, unintentionally trapping his hand against your pussy. He's gentle, almost curious with the way he runs his fingers over your silky underwear before he moves it to the side. You're shivering with delight and thrill, and you don't take your eyes off of each other as he begins to flick your clit carelessly.

"Looks so pretty on you," he compliments the makeshift choker on your neck. It's his handkerchief you wore for the occasion, unaware that it's dried with cum. He pulls on the knot like it's a collar, and you're entranced. Your pants fan his lips at the close proximity, and he doesn't shy away from slotting his mouth against yours. You quietly moan into the kiss when his thumb starts to rub your clit, and his long finger pokes at your entrance.

"You mind?" he murmurs against your lips, his words slightly slurred as he doesn't stop kissing you. The wet noises are drowned out by the loud volume of the movie, but you can't focus on what's going on.

"I don't," you breathe before he slips in two fingers, exploring your walls with precision. He's multitasking as he circles your sensitive clit, and you're not very experienced in regards to sexual encounters but your hand lands on his hard-on anyway.

"Don't be shy," he chuckles into your neck, "touch it."

You don't know what you're doing when you slip your hand under his pants and palm him over his briefs, but his sigh is encouraging you. You're touching each other in a room of 100 people.

It's embarrassing when his free hand joins yours to help you touch him while simultaneously fingering you. He must have sensed your lack of confidence, because he starts to stroke his erection over your hand. You start to imagine his fingers as the real thing, and with your particularly low stamina, have a hard time suppressing your whines.

"Kiss my neck," he suggests as a solution to your nibbling. You didn't even realize your nether lip is bleeding from how hard you were biting on it. You bury your head in his shoulder and start pecking his neck. He holds back a laugh at how shy you're being, and he feels proud for predicting this moment perfectly in the movie. Joy is having the time of her life with Namjoon, unaware of Jimin decaying in the attic.

He quickens his pace in your cunt, and you bite him rather harshly at the sensation. He hisses with a chuckle; he likes it when you're impulsive. He can pick up the squelches from his thrusts because of how wet you are, and you climax all over his fingers in a matter of seconds with a whimper. You're twitching in your seat, and your hand strokes him faster but he stops you.

"In my studio," he says and you nod tiredly against his shoulder. The issue isn't that he doesn't want to cum in his pants, but the movie needs to become reality. He wants to fuck you on that one stool, with Taehyung's corpse decomposing in the backroom.

Jungkook always adds a pinch of fiction to his stories, but they're mostly based on true events. If you paid attention to the ending, maybe you would've realized that.

Lying is bad, but there are worse things in life.

[yeahimwiththeband]

-> with the band chapter 13

tell the truth (part 3)

warning: smut. larries, shield your eyes.

A/N: it’s all happening. with the band is a love on tour au and in this chapter, anxious izzy and angsty harry clash. it’s a fever breaking and i’d suggest scanning the others before reading. 

word count: 2.82k

Izzy heard the stage door click open and slam shut. It was Harry, still in his outfit from his encore, emerald green pants and a matching vest, bare chest, fidgety with weird vibes. Outside the arena, if he wasn’t still strung out, George waited for Izzy in a hotel room on satin sheets. She would go to him... after visiting Tara in the hospital. Izzy wished she were back at the co-op in Texas, lying on the grass. She wished she were back at that first show, listening to that voice for the first time. She couldn’t shake off the day, and everything awful that had happened—the chaotic party, Tara’s overdose—the whole thing was giving Requiem for a Dream or Trainspotting. But it was real. She tried to push down her anger, but it had nowhere to go. 

“I can’t do this any more,” Harry said, crossing the pit to Izzy quickly. She could barely hear him over the roar of the fans in the arena. He took his monitors out as he walked. Izzy noticed that his hands were shaking. 

“What?” Izzy said, looking around her. Was he talking to someone else? 

“God, it’s so loud in here,” Harry said. 

“Can you—“ he spun around, shouting toward the booth, “—cut the fans? Cut off the AC, just for a minute.” The fans clicked off, stumbling to a stop. Izzy and Harry stood facing each other in the quiet. A door opened and shut above them; the crew in the booth was gone. They were alone in the arena. 

Confetti floated down the floor around them. Izzy was reminded of the last time they were alone in the arena after a show, when Harry taught her to dance—or almost alone, anyway, Lydia was there. 

“I can’t do this anymore Izzy,” Harry repeated. “I can’t.”

 “Do what, Harry?” Izzy asked. She crossed her arms. He was probably going to complain about driving her everywhere, even though he volunteered. She didn’t have the capacity for his brattiness.

 “This,” Harry said. He walked closer to her, stopping about ten feet from her. He gestured at the space between them. “Us.”

His tone was serious. Izzy uncrossed and recrossed her arms, trying to play it off casually. “You’ve already given me a lecture about how I don’t belong here, remember? How I should home? Back in New York?” 

“Please don’t pretend,” Harry said. He unfolded his arms. “I know I’m not the only one.” 

Izzy’s breath caught in her throat.

“Elisabetta.” 

“Harry—tonight isn’t…” Izzy looked at the floor, dotted with confetti, catching sight of her shirt, still splattered with Tara’s blood. “Could we talk about this tomorrow?” 

Harry shook his head and sighed. “You’re crawling out of your skin because we’re about to have a real conversation.” He sounded frustrated, and his accent was thicker than usual. 

“We’ve had real conversations, Harry.” Izzy remembered the night in the garden at the co-op.

“Sorry,” Harry said. “Sorry.” He took a step forward and ran a hand through his hair, a tuft defiantly flopping back down over his forehead. “I’m trying to say that despite everything...” He exhaled, and started again: “I mean, you’re so nice. And I hate that about you. You’re American, from some tiny place. You’re unemployed, basically—“

“I did have a job,” Izzy sputtered, “I’ve been working—“

“I know, I know. The store,” Harry smiled. He laughed a bit. Izzy felt her anger start to bubble again. “It makes no sense, at all. You’re terrible for publicity, for my reputation. You’re not in the business, and that’s the best thing. You’re not an artist or a musician, you’re not hustling to try to make yourself something, trying to find out who you can use. You’re not trying to be famous. You don’t care about followers—”

“So this is it, then,” Izzy said, wounded. “This is the real conversation you wanted to have, about how I can’t hang, and I’m too basic, I’m not an artist...” She felt her fury swell along with her pain as she processed each insult he had thrown at her. She might start crying. Or yelling. Only Harry seemed capable of hurting her like this.

“No, no,” Harry said, stepping closer to her. “Izzy, I know you know.”

Izzy could only look at him. She held her hands out, confused. 

“You’re a nobody, your family sounds awful, and even with all of that,” Harry said emphatically, “even with all of that, I’ve been… You had to have noticed how much pain I’ve been in.”

“I don’t understand,” Izzy said.

“I’m in love with you.”

.

Izzy thought she must have misheard him. The whole arena felt smaller, suddenly, rows of seats coiled tightly around them; it felt claustrophobic, stuffy, and the temperature was climbing with the fans off. 

She waited for Harry to say something, to correct himself, but he only looked at her, with pleading and pained eyes.

Izzy stared at him in disbelief. “What?”

“I’m in love with you,” Harry repeated. “I have been for a while, since New York. Before that, since the rain.”

Izzy stared at Harry. The rain? Her mind seized on the details; she couldn’t face the actual content of his words. Her heart thumped in her chest like a hammer.

“I want to be with you. Stay on the tour, with me.” Izzy flashed on the apartment by the beach, the shiny, perfect apartment George rented for them. On the lease she signed with George just hours ago. 

“Harry,” Izzy said, speaking slowly and carefully. Surprising herself, her eyes were wet and her nose had started to tingle; she was tearing up. 

She cleared her throat before she could continue. Her whole body felt like it was buzzing with a new static energy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. But I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t.”

Harry shifted his weight to his back foot, and he took another step backwards, knocked back as if she had hit him. He balled up his fists and released them. He looked totally shocked.

Anger flashed in his eyes. “That’s your answer? ‘I can’t’?”

“It is.” Izzy blinked back tears; all the anger that had built up all day had boiled up to just under the surface, just underneath her skin. 

“But you can, Izzy. You don’t… want to, is that it?” The words were so painful for Harry to say, like shards of glass in his mouth.

“I can’t.” 

“Can I ask why you’re being so cold?” Harry said in a clipped voice.

“Only after you explain why you just told me you think you love me despite the fact that my I’m a fuckup and not creative and a nobody who is unemployed and—“ 

“I didn’t say that exactly—“

“You know it’s not just that!” Izzy heard her voice rising. “Why did you have a photographer follow me and George and Meg and then pay a newspaper to run those photos?”

Harry gulped; he obviously didn’t think this would come up. “It was the best course of action at the time,” he muttered.

“Fucking pardon?” Izzy took a step toward him, seething. 

“I did what was best for you, trust me,” he said. “Those photos were way better than the ones published the night before.”

“Meg lost her job! Her boss saw the photos and she got fired.”

“I thought that with her being just, you know, an average person, it wouldn’t really cause—I didn’t think they’d put them on the front page. I was protecting you.” Izzy’s face felt hot; she felt feverish. 

“She was unemployed for a month. A month! Not that you would understand basic concerns like that—“ Izzy was almost yelling; she had never spoken this honestly with anyone else. She couldn’t control the words flying out of her mouth.

“You were the one that was supposed to leave the tour after those came out,” Harry said quietly. “I was trying to help you.”

“So you admit it!” Izzy gasped. “You were trying to get rid of me!” What she had suspected all along turned out to be true—and all this time, Harry had  pretended to be her friend. 

“I told you this before, but you don’t belong with Lydia and that band—we both know what Ryan is about.”

“I don’t belong with my own family?”

“Lydia—we all love Lydia, but thinks she’s Penny Lane and she’s really just a drug addict and you deserve better.”

Izzy’s mouth dropped open in shock. “And you’re better?”

“Thanks for that,” Harry said spitefully, almost spitting. He walked around her, and she spun to face him on the other side. “Now I know how you really feel. Did you honestly expect me to be happy for you, that you were tagging along and doing little stories for Instagram and going on shopping sprees, all wrapped up in Ryan’s bullshit?” He ran a finger along his bottom lip. His hands were twitching with rage. 

“God! You’re so sensitive, such an artist, so progressive, but your ego is the size of a fucking planet!” 

“You’re a people pleaser and every word out of your mouth is a fucking lie!” 


“The money, the stupid hotel rooms, the overpriced clothes - that was never part of the appeal of being here, and how could you pretend to be protecting me, while attacking my boyfriend?”

“Your boyfriend,” Harry spat. He marched over to Izzy, stopping just inches away from her. His cheeks were flush, lips red. “George can manage ‘imself. Why are you so concerned about him?”

“You know why.”

“Right. You care so much about him.” Izzy could feel Harry’s breath on her face.

“Yes,” Izzy replied defiantly, furious. “I’m going to live here in California with him—

“No, you’re not—“ Harry stepped closer, face lit up with rage.

“—and help him with his new album.”

“You’re not, you’re not. Replace new album with store, and George with mom.”

“Harry, shut the fuck up—” Izzy said, furious.

“You’re back on your bullshit, living for another person. It’s not because you’re in love with him. I know you’re not in love with him.” Every muscle in Harry’s body was tense.

“You can’t know that.”

“I know you.”

That voice.

The silence of the arena tightened around them. 

Harry grabbed Izzy’s face and took her waist with his other arm, pulling her close and kissing her suddenly, hard. He tasted like cinnamon and his mouth was hot; Izzy’s whole body was on fire. Her hands flew up to his chest, wrapping around his shoulders. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and wound his hands through her hair, pulling it. Izzy moaned into the kiss. He held her tightly, she could feel his fingertips digging into her waist, gripping her neck; his stubble scratched her cheeks. She pushed the vest off him and ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, feeling his heartbeat under pounding in every muscle in his torso. He kissed her deeply; she was so hungry for him and so furious at him, needed him so badly, he was water in a desert. Their hands were frantic, tearing at each other’s clothes and then Izzy was flat against him, kissing him back, their heartbeats thundering together, skin beading with sweat. Harry pulled her shirt over her head, panting, catching her eyes, searching them, briefly: both she and Harry said, I want this. You’re not the only one. 

He kissed her again, then kissed down her jawline, sucking the warm skin on her neck into his mouth. Harry pressed his palm to her mound through her underwear and Izzy twitched. She kicked off her pants. Harry swung her knees out from under her and they landed their discarded clothes where he nestled his hips into hers, grinding against her, heavy. Izzy could feel him through his underwear; she could feel his searing pulse. He kissed her hard and looked down at her through his eyelashes, running a finger along her bottom lip. She ran her hands along his back; his shoulders trembled. 

“Harry, I’ve never—”

Surprise flashed across his face and Izzy thought she saw a glimmer of satisfaction; no, she hadn’t slept with George. “S’alright,” Harry said, all smugness gone, voice deep and shaking. Sweat dropped from his hairline onto her chest as he sucked her right nipple into his mouth, biting down on her areola slightly. Izzy’s hips bucked; she was so close; she couldn’t hold on for much longer. She pushed her underwear down and kicked them off. She ran her hands through his waves, feeling how soft they were for the first time. Harry pushed his underwear down and she could feel him against her, burning hot to the touch; her wetness soaked his cock instantly. Harry pushed her thighs apart with his own and she wound her legs around his hips. 

Harry pressed his thumb into her clit, rubbing it in gentle circles; he watched her intensely and Izzy felt herself lift off the floor, back arching, gasping; she felt like she couldn’t get enough air. She squeezed her eyes tight and moaned, cumming hard, thighs vibrating. Harry clamped his lips down on hers and pushed inside her, groaning deeply; it was a deep, stretching, throbbing feeling with a pinch of intense pain that dissolved into heat as he buried himself to his hips inside her, then pulled back. 

Izzy opened her eyes and saw Harry looking down at her. He smiled, a genuine, soft smile she had seen only once before, and brushed her hair off her face, easing into her again, going slowly; his mouth dropped open, breathing hard. He pumped her faster and faster, Izzy pushing back against him, learning his rhythm; his pelvis ground against her clit and every nerve inside her felt like it was on fire. Her thighs shuddered and she came again, eyes fluttering close, nails dragging up Harry’s back as he thrust deep and hard, grunting; it felt like fever breaking in waves that got higher and higher. Harry was relentless, thrusting faster - Izzy didn’t know her body could feel like that, that feeling this good was even possible. She could feel every contour of his body and her own melting together. Harry grunted suddenly and ground into Izzy hard and she clenched around him as he filled her totally with his cum. He rocked his hips against hers again, kissing her deeply, and let his his chest drop onto hers; Izzy loved the feeling of his heaviness, his whole body pressed into hers, feeling all of him. Harry pressed his cheek against Izzy’s and she kissed his shoulder, running her fingers through his hair. Izzy put her hand to his cheek and nudged his face toward her, holding his face in her hands, cheeks still stinging hot, and kissed him again.  She felt drunk. Harry smiled. 

“Harry,” Izzy whispered, smiling back.  

“Izzy.” 

Just then, the sound of a heavy door closing and a phone clattering onto the floor.

chapter14

[tobesoalive]

r u mine? (Jake Kiszka x reader)

hey guys...so this was fun to write, thank you to the kind anon who requested it! I currently have some fun (and steamy) Josh stuff in the works right now, but still feel free to send in requests! I might slow down a little with posting since my classes started, but I promise to get to every request! Enjoy my first Jake piece!

Warnings: SMUT(oral f-recieving, fingering, penetrative sex)

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you headed down the hallway backstage, about to go out and face the crowd of thousands of fans. No you weren't a huge famous musician or anything, just their photographer. Basically the same thing right?

For the past three weeks you had been enjoying life on the road, it had always been your dream to be a concert photographer, and your work had caught the attention of a little band called Greta Van Fleet. Well, not exactly little. Their fan base grew everyday and now they were doing yet another headlining tour that they asked you to document. Over the past few months you had been in contact with the guys and their management, and you guys hit it off instantly, they brought you under their wing as if you were part of the family.

You basically were all one big family, you had gotten extremely close to the boys. Josh, Sam and Danny were like your brothers, and Jake...he was a little different.

Brother would be an odd way to describe him, seeing as you had a bit of a crush on him. Nothing super serious, you just thought he was a cool guy who also happened to be really fucking hot. You thought he might have a little something for you too, he was always asking you how you liked the show, and when he’d catch you editing the photos you took he’d sit himself right next to you and ask if you’d show him what you were working on. He was constantly complimenting your work, but that would mostly be in private, when he’d seek you out if he couldn’t sleep. You surely weren’t complaining, you enjoyed his company. You just wish he would say something, or even better, make a move. You could be taking his actions the wrong way, he does have tons of women who want him all around the country, maybe he does just think of you as a sister. Whatever thoughts you had about Jake you’d just push to the back of your mind, you had a job to do, and your work was more important than getting laid.

You went in front of the barricade and took some photos of the crowd and talked to fans. They liked to ask you questions about the guys and what it was like touring with them. You always tried to make them feel special by saying how thankful the guys were, which wasn’t a lie, to have such amazing fans.

All of a sudden you heard some of the fans start screaming wildly. They were chanting Jake’s name, and you turned your head only to briefly meet his eyes from the side of the stage where he was standing. Within a second he was gone, most likely rushing backstage to avoid any further commotion from the audience.

What was that all about? You thought to yourself. Did he sneak over there to just look at me? Maybe he wanted to talk or something. That can happen later, it was only a few minutes until the show started, so you wanted to snap a few more shots of the crowd before running all over during the show to catch the right angles.

During the show you had a great time, as per usual. You loved being right up front, taking photos of the guys doing what they loved. You went backstage to get some photos from the wings. Jake was about to do his signature move, playing his guitar behind his head, and you were ready to capture the moment. Right as you snapped the photo, Jake turned and winked at you, arms thrown behind his head, somehow managing to play the notes of “Highway Tune” whilst flirting with you.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you felt an intense need for him. Quickly you ran back out to the front of the stage to capture a few more moments before the show was over.

“God fucking dammit, I’m in deep” you muttered to yourself, before heading to the green room to congratulate the guys on the awesome show. You slipped through the crew heading on stage to clean up the equipment, turning a corner and bumping directly into Jake.

“Oh sorry! Great job out there tonight!” you say, trying your best not to blush. What was wrong with you, it was like you were a school girl or something.

“Thanks y/n! Did you get some good shots?”

“No, I made sure to get really shitty photos, especially of you”

“Are you being sarcastic?! Now that is something new!” he teased you.

“I just know how much you enjoy my sense of humor! I like to give back to the fans y’know” you quip back, causing him to break out into a smile.

“Hey the guys and quite a bit of the crew is gonna head out and probably find a bar or something once we’re done cleaning up. You wanna join?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I might just keep it lowkey tonight, I’d prefer to edit the photos tonight so I can explore whatever city we’re going to tomorrow.”

“Totally understandable, well I’ll catch you later!”

“Yeah for sure!” you say as you go off to find the rest of the guys.

After about a half hour of chatting and checking in with the rest of your tour mates, you decided it was time to change into your pajamas and spend the rest of the night staring at your computer screen, trying to edit as many photos as you can before inevitably passing out.

Getting onto the bus you shared with some other crew members, you kicked your Vans off before checking to see if anyone else was around. Seems like they all were opting to go out after the show, which meant you got the whole place to yourself. You traded out your concert outfit for a pair of shorts and a hoodie, getting prepared for your lengthy editing session.

You made yourself at home on the couch towards the front of the bus, turning on your speaker and playing music as loud as you wanted, getting straight to work.

It had felt like only a minute when you heard a knock on the door, but after checking your clock you realized an hour had already gone by. You peeked out the window only to see Jake’s figure standing there.

“Jacob! What’s up? I thought you were going to the bar?” you said as you opened the door to let him in.

“That show wore me out”

“Yeah you did amazing, I mean like you usually do” you say, stumbling over your words and internally punching yourself. God you were not smooth at all.

“Seems like we are some of the very few who decided to stay back, I was getting lonely in that tour bus.”

“Well you’re always welcome here, I was just doing some editing.”

“Wow you’re a pretty big nerd aren’t you? You know you should take a break every once and a while, I feel like you’re constantly working.”

“Well it’s not that hard when you love your job” you tell him.

“I guess that's true, can I see what you’re working on?”

“Yeah of course” you say while making your way back to the couch, Jake plopping down next to you.

“Damn that’s fucking awesome” he remarks, looking at the image on your screen. It’s the one of him playing the guitar behind his head, and winking right at you.

“I know! Thanks for being such a good model” you tell him with a small laugh.

“The guys and management are really impressed with your work. We’ve already been talking about having you come on the European leg of the tour with us.”

“Are you for real?!” you ask in awe, giddy with excitement. You absolutely loved this job and the people, and the thought that you could travel the world to do it was a dream come true.

“Yeah, don’t tell anyone though, I don’t want to get my ass beat for it.”

“Oh my god Jake I could literally kiss you!” you exclaimed, before you had even realized what you said.

You tried your best to play it off before your thoughts were interrupted by Jake’s voice.

“I wish you would”

“Huh” you stop for a second before turning to face him.

“Listen y/n, I think you’re really cool, and you also happen to be really hot. Sorry, maybe I was interpreting things wrong. I just thought if you felt the same it might be fun. It doesn’t have to be anything serious, I just get lonely on the road and -”

Before he could say another word, you took it upon yourself to answer his question, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. You pull back and look him in the eyes, closing your laptop and setting it on the counter.

“God I’m glad you finally said something, I think everyone was starting to sense the sexual tension” you grin at him.

“Well all I could think about on stage was fucking your brains out, so sorry if I’m not too great at hiding it” he says before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for another kiss, to which you open your mouth to let his tongue slip in.

You move yourself so that you’re straddling his lap, your lips moving perfectly in rhythm as Arctic Monkeys played softly in the background.

“Wow it seems like you were almost expecting this to happen” he teases you.

“Shut up and fuck me Kiszka” you say before he flips you so you’re now beneath him.  

His fingers find their way under your shirt, reaching up to cup your breast. He pinched your nipple before quickly tugging at the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Can this come off?” he breathed into your mouth.

“Yes please” you said before he pulled it off you, exposing your bare chest to him. You felt very self conscious, it had been a little while since you had gotten naked with anyone.

“Hey don’t be shy, you’re gorgeous” he said before connecting your lips once more before he stood up to remove his shirt and shorts, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs. You tried your best to not look at his growing bulge, but it was hard to resist.

Suddenly he was kneeling on the ground, body in between your spread legs.

“Jake you really don’t have to” “Oh trust me, I want to, '' he says before running his fingers up and down over your clothed core, moving his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, pulling your panties down with them.

“God you’re so fucking sexy” he mutters before expertly pressing the pad of his thumb onto your clit, his other hand pushing on your thigh to keep your legs spread.

“Fuck, Jake, I need more” you groan, your arousal now dripping between your folds.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I’ve got you”

Those words alone probably could have made you cum, but then Jake entered a finger into you, causing your hands to tangle in his long hair, slightly pulling.

“Goddamn babe you’re tight” he said, looking at you in awe before adding another finger and leaning down to toy your clit with the tip of his tongue. His fingers were pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm, and every so often he’d curl them to perfectly hit your g-spot.

“Jake you need to stop or else I’m gonna cum” you say as you pull his head back, looking him in the eyes.

“That’s okay” he reassures you.

“No, when I cum I want it to be around you” you say.

“Fucking hell y/n” he groans out in a raspy voice.

You get up and kiss him before pushing him down on the couch, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. You tug at the waistband, and he lifts his hips up to assist you. You took a moment to admire his length before wrapping your hand around it. He was a couple inches above average, with a nice girth to him. His head tipped back in bliss as you continued to give him a few more strokes before positioning yourself above him, running his tip back and forth across your slit. Slowly, you sank yourself down onto him, taking as much of him in as you could.

“Fuck fuck fuck Jake, you’re really fucking big” you breath out, only able to fit about half of him in you at this angle.

“Just do what you can baby” he says before softly pressing a kiss on your forehead, telling you that it was okay.

You started moving yourself up and down on him as best you could, starting to adjust more to his size. The stretch burned but slowly started turning more pleasurable.

After a few minutes your legs were starting to hurt and his length slipped out of you.

“Will you fuck me from behind?” you blurt out, sweat running between the valley of your breasts.

“I’d be honored” Jake responds, offering a smile before getting up.

He moves you so that your hands are on the back of the couch, holding you steady and your knees rest on the edge of the sofa, sticking your ass out towards Jake. You can hear him move behind you, hands finding their way to your ass, before you feel him run his tip up and down your slit once again.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod in response and instantly feel him push his way into you, letting you adjust for a second before pushing the rest of his length in you.

“Oh my fucking god Jake” you say as you bury your head in the couch cushions, his dick hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.

“Oh god you’re doing so good baby girl, taking all of my cock.” he says as he begins to pump in and out of you, starting off slow but gradually picking up the pace.

It feels amazing, better than you had imagined. You wanted him to stay in you forever, make you see stars all the time. Within a minute you were contracting around him, nearing your edge.

“Jake I’m almost there, please faster”

“Me too baby, me too” he says as he starts thrusting even faster than before, wrapping his arm around you to toy with your clit.

All it takes is a few more pumps and you can feel him explode inside you, groaning your name loudly and leaning over your back, but still circling your clit with his fingers. It’s enough to bring you to your peak, walls contracting around him, burying your head in your arms. Once you’ve both come down you stay in that position for a minute, before he pulls out of you and collapses on the couch, pulling you into his chest.

“That was way better than I imagined” he breathes out, hand stroking your hair.

“Oh so you’ve thought about this before? That's embarrassing” you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Hey I’m sure you aren’t so innocent yourself” he says smiling down at you.

“We should probably get dressed, I’m sure your brothers and the other goons will be stumbling in anytime now.” you tell him as you get up and search for your clothes.

“You’re probably right. Hey, let's do this again sometime” he says, cheeks going red.

“Hmm...I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule” you respond, giving him a quick wink.

These next few months surely were going to be an adventure, and you didn’t want to miss a second.

[kfae]

No Big Deal (i love you)

In the aftermath of Battle of the Bands, Anne and Marcy prepare for the morning.

There’s glitter in Anne’s hair.

It’s a vibrant, silvery blue - glistening and glimmering in the soft light of the Plantar’s bathroom. It matches the shimmery color of the makeup spread along her cheeks. Spread thin from the unrelenting presence of a wet cloth against the clumpy excuse of a poorly constructed makeup, dyed and forged from various plants and everyday products found around the Plantar’s farm.

Their costumes sit piled in a corner, already coming apart at the seams - hastily fused with glue and messy stitching. Once glamorous and glittery outfits now replaced with night shirts and comfortable shorts.

It had been a hasty decision, to perform a scarcely practiced song with such an overly ambitious and extravagant vision.

Marcy is still riding the high it’d given her, hours after the fact.

Running water slowly fills up the Plantar’s single bathtub, wooden and rustic and adorable. It’s so unlike Newtopia, so unlike the high-tech waterways and plumbing system she’d helped to improve.

There’s no heating here, and the water is cold.

Anne doesn’t complain, though, and so Marcy stays silent.

“Who’d have thought Grime would be the one to win?” she asks. “I’d have never thought he’d be a harpist.”

“It is very uncharacteristic,” Anne agrees.

The mirror they’re sharing is tarnished with age, its frame warped and uneven with its place on the wall. Anne stares intently into the looking-glass, fingers pressed with damp fabric.

“I’m starting to regret the decision to wear so much glitter,” she says, her tone pitched with the slightest hint of a laugh, “you were smart to avoid your eyes.”

Marcy smiles at her friend’s words, watching as she carefully traces the outline of her lashes, doing little more than smearing the purply-blue excuse for eyeshadow.

“Here, let me - “

Marcy takes the cloth from Anne’s hand - never minding the green that still stains her own cheeks - and rinses the cloth under the running water of the tub’s pump. Her hands trace Anne’s jawline as she carefully begins to wipe away at the excess product Anne had missed.

“It’s a shame Sasha ran off so quickly,” Anne notes, “she’s better at the whole makeup thing than either of us. She’d know how to get it off.”

Marcy nods, thoughts circling back to the joyous high of the performance she’d crashed, of the song that her thoughts would undoubtedly mimic and repeat in the weeks to come. 

She understands her absence though, a little bit. Sasha had spent the entirety of her time in Amphibia with Grime. It makes sense she’d want a bit of time to say goodbye.

“I’m going to miss Amphibia,” Marcy says. She dips the cloth back into the water, watching as the collected glitter scatters across the ripples. “I can’t believe we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“We can always come back to visit,” Anne assures her. “We have the box, and all of the stones are charged now.”

“I guess.”

“Maybe we could visit on the weekends,” Anne says, “after everything is cleared up on Earth. I doubt my parents will believe the whole ‘world of frogs’ story at first.”

Marcy almost says it, right then and there. Almost confesses everything, lays out her magnificent plan. Because they aren’t returning to Earth tomorrow. They probably won’t for a long, long time, if ever. She almost tells Anne about the stories of magnificent worlds Andrias had shared with her, with men made of moss and creatures of immortality.

She doesn’t. Because, as much as she wants to believe Anne would agree with her sentiments, she doesn’t know.

Anne is just magical like that. Evading her expectations, changing and growing during their time in Amphibia in the same way she has.

“Something on your mind?” Anne asks, and Marcy realizes her movements have stalled. The old rag hangs limply from her hand. Glitter floats throughout the tub, green and blue mixing and mingling together in the cold liquid. It’s probably a bad idea, rinsing the shimmering cloth in the water one of them is meant to bathe in. It’s too late at night for Marcy to really care, though.

“Yeah,” Marcy says.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’ll tell you soon.”

It’s a promise. One that she’s half-certain she’ll break.

They’ll be leaving Amphibia tomorrow, but not to return home.

It’ll be a new adventure. One just as exhilarating and exciting as this one. The story isn’t ending, just yet. Not when there’s still so much to say; not when there’s still so much to do, so much to explore.

Marcy will explain the whole thing in the morning, if the moment allows. She’ll tell Anne and Sasha about Andrias’ promise. She’ll tell them how they don’t have to leave, not yet. They’ll see the magnificent possibilities of the next world they’re set to explore, and come along with her.

It’ll be just the three of them, together. As it should be.

She’ll tell them. If not tomorrow, then eventually.

The cloth brushes across Anne’s cheek once again, before Marcy drops it into the bath. The water level’s now high enough that Marcy reaches across to shut off the pump, before it hits the end of wood and spills over and onto the bathroom floor.

“Thank you,” Anne says. A few flecks of glitter are still clinging to her cheeks, her eyelids. Still painting her blue, still glimmering in the light of a mushroom.

I love you, she wants to say, and the words almost slip out. Marcy bites her tongue before they can.

It occurs to her how easy it would be, sitting here in a tiny, half-illuminated bathroom. Close enough to touch, close enough to simply revel in the presence of one another.

She would wait for a joke of some sort, perhaps. God, I love you, choked out within a mound of laughter. Interpretable in either way; allowing Anne the option of a choice. Years worth of mindless conversations, years worth of silent promises and unspoken second-meanings all piling on top of one another to form such a simple little phrase.

God, I love you.

“It’s no big deal,” she says instead, her voice painted with a faint musical tune, lighthearted and teasing.

Anne smiles, whisper-sings “It’s no big deal,” in return, and in that moment everything is worth it.

Maybe she won’t say it tonight. Maybe she won’t say it tomorrow.

That’s fine, Marcy thinks.

They have the music box, after all. They aren’t on Earth, she isn’t moving. She still has Anne - still has Sasha.They have the music box, and with it comes all the time in the world. In any world.

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 1

@daminette-december2019-2020 ​

~Inspiration~

*Emerges from my hole*: oh ho ho~ we have another month of inspiration on our hands!

Next

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

Marinette steps through the portal immediately collapsing; she doesn't drop the transformation until she hears Chat drop down next to her. She calls the transformation of both the Horse and Ladybug miraculous, knowing Chat will close his eyes without her asking, Marinette does the same for him as he calls off his own.

They stay like that, panting on the rooftop. It’ll be sunrise soon, Marinette knows what she has to do.

“He’s moved,” She breaks the silence. Stating the obvious, they’ve known this for months.

“At least he wont be bothering Paris anymore,” Chat laughs, without any humor.

“But Gotham is so much worse,” Marinette groans, “We can’t keep doing this, not like we are, Spots on,”

Marinette stands letting the transformation wash over her while keeping her eyes shut, this will be easier to say without looking at him anyway.

“Chat Noir, hand over your miraculous,” Marinette recoils at the wounded sound he makes, “I have to leave Paris,”

“What? No! Claws out!” Marinette opens her eyes to see Chat, furious and with tears in his eyes, “I’m coming with you!”

She thought he would say that. Probably would have hurt if he didn’t.

“I can’t just ask you to leave your life, your friends,” Marinette chokes up, “Your family,”

“And what about you?!” Chat says with such heartbreaking sincerity, “Who will you be leaving behind!?”

“... Everyone,”

But she had put it off for too long. Hawkmoth slowed his attacks in Paris months ago, they thought he was giving up… then he attacked Gotham. The attacks in Paris stopped. The ones in Gotham were so much worse. She thought… she thought she could keep it up, jumping through a portal every time Gotham needed her. It was the best of both worlds. Her family and friends were safe and she could still defeat Hawkmoth. But nothing was ever that easy. Gotham needed her, completely, with undivided attention. Paris didn’t. Gotham needed Ladybug more than Paris needed Marinette.

“Not me,” Chat breaks Marinette from her thoughts, gently holding her shoulders, “I’m coming with you,”

She should argue. She planned to argue, every detail ever rebuttal. But she was weak. Marinette so desperately wanted him to come. To have someone, anyone there for her. No not anyone she wanted Chat by her side. Her partner through thick and thin. The one who would help her take down Hawkmoth. It was so unbelievably selfish. 

She wanted him with her more than she wanted him to live his life here.

“Chat you realize we can’t tell anyone,” They could make the connection, they would try to stop them, or worse, follow them. If they went to Gotham alone at least they wouldn't have a life outside of this, they could focus wholly on taking down Hawkmoth, and maybe finally succeed, “... we have to run away,”

“Bug a boo that's the fun part,” Chat teases, Marinette couldn't see how leaving her friends and family would be at all fun, “... sorry… I know you’re leaving a lot behind,”

“If you do this-”

“When I do this,” Marinette raises a brow at him, he does it right back.

“We should reveal our identities,”

“Oh no, what a shame,” Chat dramatically ‘faints’, “Damn that makes this so much harder,”

“You know what?” Marinette ‘thoughtfully’ taps her chin, “I can probably find a new Chat Noir,”

“No, no! Sorry,” Chat immediately stands back up, “That’s obviously not why I’m doing this,”

“I know kitty,” Marinette smiles, getting him to relax, “But you need to think this over, I’m… I’m going to go pack,”

“Don’t need to think it over,” Chat smirks, “Claws off!”

“Chat! NO!” Marinette yelps, chiding, before actually processing who it was standing before her, “Adrien?!”

“Uhh, you know me?” Adrien stands there so awkwardly Marinette just burst into laughter, “Ummm,”

“S-sorry it’s it’s just,” Marinette held her sides as she kept cracking up, “Spots off!”

Her transformation fell and at that moment Marinette couldn’t even manage to feel any anxiety at him finding out, the ‘o’ face he made was too priceless. Before she could even think of being nervous Adrien also bursts out laughing, the two ending up as wheezing messes on the rooftop. It took a long while and lots of giggling to calm down.

“Well at least I’m not leaving all my friends behind,” Marinette says to the sky, “That is if you still want to come?”

“Meet you here tomorrow Marinette,” Adrien stands up, offering a hand to Marinette, “Same time,”

“See you kitty,” Marinette waves as they part ways, for now. She had a lot she needed to do today.

Marinette doesn't sleep when she gets home. She searches deep in her draws for that special fabric she put aside. Flips through her sketchbook to find that perfect design she did once. Then gets to work making a pattern. It is well past sunrise by the time she is done. She’s late for school. It doesn't matter anymore.

Not running to class for once she makes sure her parents are free later that night. She’d like to spend all day with them, but Marinette wants to see her friends one last time. She stuffs her bag with all the presents she had made her friends for future birthdays. Might as well give them now. Lila smirks at her as she walks into class, Marinette would usually worry. It doesn't matter anymore.

“Hey girl, I was wondering, Lila said some-” Marinette cuts her off, handing Alya a pile of wrapped gifts.

“Hi, sorry I’ve been busy, kind of went into a design frenzy,” Marinette laughs sheepishly, “I was going to give them at your birthday, but I just couldn't wait,”

“Awe, girl this is amazing!” Alya holds up the jacket Marinette made a few months ago, she hugs Marinette tight, “See I told you, Lila, Marinette's just been busy!”

“Too busy to make me anything, I’m sure,” Lila says, teary eyed.

“Actually no,” Marinette smiles, enjoying the utterly shocked look.

“I made this to welcome you to the class, but then you went to Achu,” Marinette places it down with open hostility, “And, well, there wasn't really an opportunity after that,”

After that Lila has a hard time trying to twist it against her. Even the complaints that the bandanna is so much smaller than everyone else's gifts is weak as it has beautiful embroidery of a fox and ladybug, everyone cooing over how sweet and personal the design is. Back when Marinette actually believed her lie that they could start over and be friends. It also was hard to turn anyone against Marinette as she handed out presents to anyone that walked through the door. Laughing and apologizing for her absence lately, claiming the whole time she was making things for them.

When Adrien came to class they both tried to stifle their laughter. Marinette only gave him one thing, so as not to be suspicious. It would help to have all new clothes when they ran away, she would give the rest to him then. It was a scarf, one she made a while ago with the new addition of a green cat paw in the corner.

Marinette, for all intents and purposes, felt wonderful for the rest of the day. She caught up with her friends, felt closer to them than she had in a while actually. They talked and laughed, Marinette for once not encouraging them to keep quiet, joking along with them, and taking a million pictures. Madame bustier didn't complain much, after all, she had an all-new makeup bag plus more.

It was fun. And the ‘see you tomorrow’ was hollow.

Marinette was dreading going back home. She asked for a special dinner that night, saying she had a special surprise to show them. And special it was, Marinette had made a new dress for her Maman, a more casual version of her wedding dress, with a special Marinette flare, plus a matching outfit for her Papa. They smiled saying it was beautiful, just as they had with her very first design and everything she made since then. They ate together and played video games together.

Marinette asked to look at old photo albums and they spent the rest of the night pouring over them. If she slipped a few out to take with her, neither noticed.

“I love you both,” Marinette hugs them tight, imagining she’ll never see them again.

Even if they do defeat Hawkmoth, Marinette's not sure she’ll make it through the fight. She could be gone for years, or maybe never return to Paris. Marinette didn’t know if she’d ever see them again, this could be it.

“We love you too,” Her Maman smiles, cupping her cheek, “Now go to bed we don't want you to be late for school tomorrow,”

Sorry I will be

Marinette just nods, hugging them one last time before heading upstairs. She packs her bag, full of newly brought or made clothes, clothes for Adrien, food, and whatever cash she had on hand. She leaves a note, saying there's something she has to do, that she loves them both and this is in no way their fault, not to look for her but Marinette doubts they’ll listen. She grabs her bag and the miracle box, saying goodbye to her home and disappearing into the night with Tikki.

By the time she meets up with Adrien Marinette is a sobbing mess. They hug each other. Adrien's not crying but she can sense the deep sadness in him. Tikki hugs her too, getting Marinette to calm down.

“So what’s the plan?”

“Go to Gotham,” Marinette shrugs, that was really the extent of it.

“We have nowhere to go,” Chat hums, trying to act nonchalant about everything, 

“I guess this means we’re homeless,” Marinette shrugs again, she had really only planned this for herself, and none of that seemed like a concern.

“We can find an abandoned warehouse, set up shop,”

“Either way we’re going to be pretty busy,” Constantly on the run, either running from someone or running after someone.

“Well, you know what they say,” Chat smirks, “We’ll sleep when this bastard is taken down,”

“You know it,” Marinette smiles, genuinely this time, “Pound it?”

“Pound it,”

 ---

 “After last week we can indeed confirm these attacks are occurring,”

“Oh sure it wasn't like I told you a month ago,” Jason scoffs, getting glared at by Bruce for interrupting.

“Well you have to admit ‘this guy came and destroyed ten blocks’ is pretty unbelievable when everything’s unscratched,” Tim continues to tap away at his computer, “And now we know the cause,”

The footage was shakily taken from the next building over, partly destroyed. With a bright light everything was fixed.

“Magic,” Dick says needlessly.

“Meta humans,” Batman growls, “Not approved and playing at being heroes,”

“Can we really complain if they fix everything after a fight?” Duke speaks up, “The police didn't even report any casualties, they don’t seem to be rookies,”

“Magic makes them reckless,” Batman shuts the argument down, “More so if they can fix everything, what happens when they can’t?”

“So basically you want them out,” Damian cuts in, there was no point arguing over it for however long, Bruce wouldn't allow them to keep roaming the city.

“Yes,” Bruce fixes them all with a hard stare, making it clear this is an order, “When you come in contact tell them they are to leave or be removed,”

They all agreed. Damian wishes he didn’t have to waste his time worrying about some second rate wannabes thinking they could challenge Batman for the protection of Gotham. They couldn't. What did they have that Batman didn’t?

 ---

 A lot was the answer. 

Or this particular new villain. It didn’t make any sense, usually, first time villains were easier to deal with, but no, here Robin was watching as Batman fought a losing battle against them. It didn’t help that they were brainwashing civilians, turning them against the rest. Robin was given very specific instructions not to harm them. Hard when they had no such orders.

Robin barely processes that Batman is thrown through a building before the main villain is turning to him. At least he could use more drastic measures with the actual villain, unsheathing his sword Robin lunges. He trades a few blows, unfortunately doing less damage than the villain can do with a singular super powered punch. With super strength, magic and Gotham citizens being steadily taken over this was looking more like a Justice league threat by the second. Everytime the villains should be down for the count they got back up, Damian couldn't find their weakness.

Robin knows he took a wrong step as the villain doesn't rush forward to take advantage but shoots out a beam, the same one Damian had just watch turn a civilian against the rest of his family. And he has no leverage to dodge. This would be so much worse than the civilians, setting his strength against the others? Without concern for killing them? Would Damian remember?

“Watch out!” A wire wraps around Robin, yanking him out of the way. He falls at someone's feet the wire slipping away, he can hear it whirling above him. 

Damian sits up, looking to who grabbed him, ready to fight if necessary, and- Loses his breath.

She's standing over him protectively, a makeshift wire shield repelling the beams that had been causing them so much trouble with ease. Like it was second nature. She looks down at him and smiles so gently, without a hint of fear or worry. Promising she has everything under control.

There's something to be said of Batman's intimidating, steady nature. It can put people at ease in its own way and be even more effective at cutting down enemies with a glare. But this? This is warmth, assurance, a steady appearance more in line with Wonder Woman yet still completely it’s own.

“You alright?” She holds out a hand for him.

Damian snaps out of it taking her hand startling at how she actually lifts him up without any effort on his part.

“Chat you ready?”

“Ready my Lady!”

My lady? Who’s Chat?

His answer comes a second later as a spotted container comes crashing down, fracturing the street. In an instant, the wire wraps around the container a hundred times over.

“Now!” My Lady commands.

“Cataclysm!” Chat yells out, the container crumbles under his touch, wire moving in to constrict around the villain.

The villain thrashes, still being able to send out beams wildly and with their minions closing in. Chat breaks off to fend them all off while Robin tries to catch his breath, Batman still in the rubble of a building. My Lady can’t hold the villain back and fight at the same time. Damian struggles to stand up and help her.

“Lucky charm replay!” 

Robin cringes at the bright light then watches as another spotted object falls into her hands. It’s a bent tube she looks around for a few seconds before holding it up. Damian rushes forward as a beam races towards her and she makes no effort to dodge. She catches it with the tube sending it back to the villain, it hits them square in the chest with no effect. Lady nods to herself before doing the same with the next beam. This time robin watches as it misses the villain, grazing their ear and sending their ear peice flying off.

“Chat!”

“On it!” Chat Noir catches the earring from midair, calling cataclysm again turning it to dust.

Damian watches not willing to let his jaw drop as the hideous villain transforms into a normal civilian. It’s such an intriguing sight that Robin startles when something flies towards Chat Noir snatching a purple butterfly from the air and pulling it back to My Lady. A few seconds later a white butterfly is flying out a… yo yo?

“Bye bye little butterfly,” She waves the glowing white butterfly away.

That was so cute

“Who are you?” Batman demands having just recovered, motioning for them to circle around them.

“Uh, your welcome,” Chat Noir scoffs, helping the previous villain up.

“I am Ladybug, this is my partner Chat Noir,” Partner? “We’re the previous heroes of Paris,”

“Paris has no heroes,” Batman glares at them, civilians around them still closing in Robin turns his defenses towards them.

“Then that makes the past what six? Seven? Years really awkward,” Chat Noir looks at Ladybug who shrugs, a civilian takes a swing at her she dodges smoothly before throwing the pipe in the air.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” Now Robin's jaw does drop as a thousand glowing ladybugs swarm around the nearby buildings, maybe all of Gotham not even leaving a scratch behind.

“Why are you in Gotham now then?” Batman recovers first, civilians nearby blinking back into reality.

“Hawkmoth has moved his operations to Gotham to feed off the negative emotions here,” well there’s plenty of that here “It makes his Akuma more powerful and we can no longer continue to operate from Paris,”

“Then he’s in Gotham now and is my problem,” our problem “I can handle this,”

“Well you did a great job of that,” Chat Noir rolls his eyes, leaning on his staff, “How's your back by the way?”

“Chat Noir,”  Ladybug scowls, then turns to Batman, “You can’t and it’s my responsibility as Ladybug and as guardian of the miraculous,”

“What's that-”

Nightwing is interrupted by a beeping from Chat Noir's ring.

“It would be that, we have to go now,” Chat Noir salutes moving to leave, they tighten their circle surrounding them.

“You will leave Gotham,” Batman demands, this time its Ladybugs turn to glare she tsks and rounds on him, not managing to seem that threatening in her brightly colored costume.

“You don’t know who Hawkmoth is, you don’t know what Akuma are, you don't know about the miraculous, you have no clue about the guardians, you hadn't heard of whats been happening in Paris for years and you don’t know who we are or what we’ve done,” Batman is shocked under the forces of the heroine's righteous fury, “There are things going on here that you don't understand, we are here to stay until hawkmoth is defeated,”

Robin watches as she leaves a shell shocked Batman behind dissapering into Gotham’s night with her partner.

Inspiring

 —-

 “And why can’t they be in Gotham?” Damian demands from him yet again.

“No metahumans,” Bruce sighs, Damian had been unreasonably stubborn on this front, “They only cause more damage,”

“Actually they repaired a lot,” Damian leans over the desk to glare over that him, “And saved you,”

“Go to bed,” Bruce demands, Alfred busy patching up his wounds. Damian scoffs before storming out of the cave, still half in his robin uniform, “Whats wrong with him?”

“I couldn’t say, master Bruce,” Usually for Alfred that meant he knew exactly what was going on. He tied the final bandage before holding the phone out, “There's a call for you,”

Bruce shrugs on his shirt before answering. It wasn't the phone reserved for business so at least it wouldn't be that big a pain in the neck.

“Bruce,”

Never mind

“Talia,” Bruce growls, going to glare at Alfred who had already made himself scarce, “What do you want?”

“Oh please I’m not up to anything sinister,” Bruce can just imagine her waving him off with a smirk, “This time,”

“But you still want something,” Bruce acknowledged, sinister or not she can cause a lot more trouble without being out too.

“A missing person case, a friend of mine got in touch, her daughter ran away yesterday, l thought it would be right up your alley,”

“Why would you tell me this,” There was obviously more to this, there always was with Talia, “And more importantly why do you care,”

“Oh because she’s Sabine's daughter,” Bruce freezes, a million case files and reports flashing through his mind, none of which outlined a daughter let alone a family, “Surely you’ve heard of Sabine?”

“... We’re on the case,”

“Great, good luck~”

Now he has to worry about potentially one of the most dangerous assassins in the world on the loose. A shift in the shadows catches his eye before disappearing. Great. And now the whole family knew, or would soon.

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

Taglist? nope don’t have one, horrible at keeping track of them sorry~

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Wolf in the Castle

Pairing: Charles Blackwood x fem!Reader

Words: 4110

Summary: You arrive at Blackwood Manor to find an unexpected visitor disrupting the sensitive ecosystem of the small family.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (f receiving), fingering unprotected vaginal sex), very minor violence (brief mention of blood), mention of committing crimes, SMUT, 18+ ONLY!

A/N: I’ve been binging a bunch of Seb Stan movies over the past few days as I finish my week off, and Charles Blackwood kind of struck me. I really enjoyed this fic and hope you do too!

Will reblog later with tags (join my taglist here!)

not my gif

Alright, what the hell? You thought to yourself as you pulled up to Blackwood manor.

There was a strange red convertible in the driveway. Constance and Merricat never had visitors aside from the Clarkes and you. You frowned to yourself as you climbed out of your sedan, picking up the books and flowers from the passenger seat as you went to knock on the front door.

Constance greeted you with one of her beaming smiles that always managed to break your heart a bit.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you! I know Merricat has been looking forward to you coming to visit. You’ll have to excuse us, our cousin Charles has come to stay with us unexpectedly, so we didn’t have enough time to prepare a room for you.”

“Constance, you don’t need to apologize!” You chided as you followed her into the receiving room. “You’re certain this visit won’t be a strain, now that you have another houseguest?”

“Oh, nonsense! Merricat would never forgive me if I sent you away! I see you brought her some new books. And are those lilies?”

“Lilies, cherry blossoms, and lilacs. I remembered they’re your favorites!” You gave her a warm smile as you handed her the bouquet and set the books on one of the end tables.

“Thank you so much! Oh! Y/N, this is our cousin, Charles Blackwood! Charles, this is Merricat’s tutor, and our very good friend, Y/N.”

You extended your hand to the man who had just entered the receiving room and he pressed his lips to your knuckles with a charming smile. His blue eyes took you in as he leaned back against the rear of the couch. You were a stark contrast to Constance’s proper and domestic appearance. You were wearing a pair of tight white capris and a gingham blouse that you had tied in a knot just above the waistline of your pants.

You gave him an appraising look of your own. He was relaxed in a cream linen suit. His soft chestnut waves slicked back from his face as he gave you a smirk. He had an air of easy allure about him that made you uneasy. 

You didn’t trust him a bit.

“So nice to meet you, Charles.” You murmured as he stared at you.

“Y/N!” Merricat came tearing into the receiving room and leapt on you, wrapping her arms around you in a desperate embrace and making you laugh. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much!”

“Mary, you’re being incredibly inappropriate.” Charles was no longer smiling as he watched your young student chatter at you giddily, her hands and knees smudged with dirt from the garden.

“Please, it’s fine.” You grinned at him as Merricat shot him a poisonous glare over her shoulder. “I’ve brought you some new books Merricat, ‘Transcendental Magic’ and several encyclopedias of poisonous plants of the United States and Canada.”

“Oh, thank you!” Merricat ran her fingers over the book covers lovingly when you handed them to her. “Will you join me in the woods to look for some of these?”

“Dear girl, I would love to. But first I need to bring in my suitcases and unpack.” Constance was still beaming between the two of you as her sister opened the book on magic and started to read. Charles looked incredibly disapproving though, and that made you smile for some reason. “I think it’s a little too late for us to venture out tonight anyways, so why don’t you help me bring in the rest of my things, and tomorrow we can make a whole day of it! We’ll bring a picnic and everything!”

Merricat grinned at you before she ran off to put away her new treasures, taking the steps two at a time.

“You shouldn’t encourage the girl.” Charles mumbled under his breath, scowling at you.

“I think it’s lovely how Merricat light’s up whenever Y/N is here.” Constance started to say, but her words died off and her smile took on a certain strain as Charles turned his disapproving gaze to her.

“Exactly what harm is she doing?” You asked, turning to the man with a tired expression. “The girl is exceptionally bright, and I refuse to stifle her. She could be turning that energy into something far more destructive if she isn’t given a proper outlet.” You murmured, shooting a knowing glance at Constance.

“Very well.” He grumbled. “Just make sure she’s washed up for dinner. Constance has made us a lovely meal, I won’t have the girl spoiling it.”

You considered questioning Constance about her cousin once he left to work his way up to his room, but she just gave you another smile and turned to head to the kitchen and finish her preparations. Merricat came bursting through the front door then, looking slightly comical as she tried to maneuver your two cases at once. You hurried to assist her and the two of you headed up to the guest room.

Once you reached the guest room, the two of you set to unpacking your things.

“When did your cousin arrive, Merricat?” You asked as you hung up some of your dresses and she arranged your makeup and perfumes on the vanity.

You saw her shoulders tense when you mentioned Charles. Jonas had followed the two of you and was winding his way through Merricat’s legs. She picked him up and held him close to her chest.

“He came here unbidden and is most unwelcome.” She whispered harshly as she avoided making eye contact with you. “I believe he is making Uncle Julian sicker, and he intends to take Constance from me.”

You stood up to embrace the girl, hoping to soothe her. You smoothed your hands over her hair as she buried her face in your chest.

“Dear girl. Are you sure about these things?” She was incredibly overprotective of her remaining family members, but you couldn’t deny the man made you uncomfortable too.

She just nodded into your shoulder.

“Well, we’ll just have to do our best to make sure he leaves then, won’t we?” You tipped her chin up to face you and she gave a small smile of relief. “Now, I’m going to take a bath before dinner, you should get cleaned up as well. We don’t want to arouse any suspicions.”

She gave you a serious nod and scurried off to her room as you went to run yourself a bath. You chewed the inside of your cheek nervously as you began to undress, considering the best way to go forward.

You joined the family downstairs an hour later, and again felt Charles’ eyes lock onto you. He was considering the differences between you and Constance, once more. Constance had changed into a lovely pale blue chiffon dress for the meal, while you had again chosen an outfit that could well be considered scandalous; a long-sleeved black satin cape-cod sheath that hugged you tightly. He was leering at you over his glass of wine as you entered the dining room.

You heard Merricat hiss when she pushed her Uncle Julian into the room, and deduced that her cousin was wearing one of her father’s suits. He had also placed himself at the head of the table. You gave a heavy sigh as you took your seat across from Constance, in between Charles and Julian. You gave the girls’ uncle a smile and polite greeting as Constance poured you a glass of wine.

“This looks wonderful as always, Constance.” You tipped your glass to her and gave her a small smile of appreciation before raising it to your lips. The poor woman was doing her best to ignore the excessive tension in the room, beaming at everyone seated around the table.

“I’m so glad you like it, Y/N. I made sure to make you some green beans amandine, I remembered that it’s your favorite.”

“It is, it’s so sweet that you remembered.” You praised her, sending her into a fit of tittering. “So, Julian, how are the memoirs coming?”

You smirked into your drink as the man started going on about the night of the murders. You could sense Charles tense up once he started talking and turned your head just enough to catch a glimpse of the muscles in his jaw tense up as he took a swig of wine.

“That’s enough.” He seethed, slamming his glass back down on the table and taking a deep breath to recenter himself. His smile had a certain strain to it when he lifted his head again. “Let’s talk about happier things.”

“Oh, of course.” You murmured. “Merricat, how are your studies going?”

You saw his knuckles grow white as he gripped the edge of the table.

“Oh, I’ve learned six new spells since I last saw you, the first…”

“No.” He looked at you frustratedly as you threw a wink to Merricat, making her giggle. “How about we just, enjoy our meal, hmm?”

You shrugged at him and took another sip of wine before tucking into your dinner. Constance was such a wonderful cook, it was easy to lose yourself in the food. Everyone had a clean plate before long, and you stood to help Constance and Merricat clear the table.

“No, Y/N, you’re our guest, I don’t want you doing any work during your visit with us. It wouldn’t feel right.” Constance scolded you. “Please go join Charles and Julian in the lounge for some after-dinner drinks, oh, and maybe some dancing later, wouldn’t that be lovely?”

“That does sound lovely.” You turned to walk to the lounge but when you arrived, only Charles was there, pouring himself a glass of sherry. “Where’s Julian?”

“Julian decided to turn in for the night.” He told you as he focused on pouring his drink. “Did you want a sherry?”

“Yes, please.” He handed you a small glass and you took a sip, giving a hum of appreciation when the sweet liquor hit your tongue. “Constance is such a wonderful cook, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, Connie’s great.” He chuckled, turning to face you. You felt your hackles rising as he leered at you, his eyes roaming over your body with no reservations as he gave you a wolfish grin. “So what’s your story sweetheart?”

You narrowed your eyes at him but Constance chose that moment to enter the study, and he put up his charming façade again.

“My goodness, I didn’t realize how late it was.” She said, grinning at the two of you. “Will you think any less of me if I retire early? I feel like such a bad hostess.”

“Constance, please.” You gave her a soft look of reproach. “You need to take care of yourself, darling. Please rest, I’m sure Charles and I can find some way to entertain ourselves.”

“Yeah, go to bed, Connie.” Charles gave her a grin as he moved to refill his drink.

You shifted yourself as Constance turned to go, moving towards the desk slowly as you listened to her footsteps going up the stairs. You shifted a letter opener under your palm as you leaned back, waiting to hear the click of Constance’s bedroom door before you started talking again. You heard the click and turned to face Charles, tossing back all of your drink as a look of malice came over your face.

“Alright asshole, what’s your fucking game?” You seethed at Blackwood, sneering at the look of surprise that came over his face.

“Excuse me?” His accent slipped as he tried to recover, and you knew you had him.

“You come in here, zero prep, and manage to raise the hackles of these morons in what, a week?” You were furious, this man must be some kind of special idiot. “I’ve been working these fools for 2 years, asshole, I swear to god, if you ruin this for me…”

“Listen, bitch, I didn’t realize someone was already latched onto this teat.” You could tell he was pissed now, too, but you didn’t care. “But maybe, the fact that you haven’t gotten anywhere in 2 years means this just isn’t for you. I’ll do you a favor and cut you in for 10 percent once I get access to the safe.”

“The safe?” You covered your mouth so that your laughter wouldn’t carry. “You idiot. No wonder that stupid fucking kid is so worked up. You’re working a short-con on them? This is not going to go your way.” You were shaking with mirth.

He growled and slammed his glass on the bar cart, jostling the bottles dangerously. He was snarling as he closed the distance between you and wrapped a hand around your throat, pressing himself into you so hard the desk rattled. You brought up the letter opener and pressed it against his neck in warning, making him hiss.

The two of you stilled when you heard footsteps above you. You just stared at each other, panting heavily as you waited. The footsteps stopped suddenly, and you sighed in relief as you heard the creak of Constance finally climbing into bed.

“Listen dumbass,” You whispered at him, digging the blade into his neck to accentuate your point. “This is my score. I actually did my research, I ingrained myself to that brat, I fucked the damn simpleton, you think you can just waltz in here with that shit-eating grin and take it all away from me, you are very mistaken.”

He snorted at you, “Jesus, why would you fuck Julian?” he had slotted one of his knees between your thighs and started to edge up the hem of your skirt as he moved even closer to you.

“What?” You were doing your best to ignore the way your body was reacting to being in such close proximity to him. “No, the other simpleton, Connie. What, you haven’t?”

The look of surprise on his face was satisfying and annoying at the same time. You rolled your eyes as he released your throat and gave you an appreciative look.

“Well, fuck, sweetheart. You’re full of surprises.”

“Yeah, right.” You were tired of this. “Alright. We’re both to far into this now for either one to back out without arousing any suspicion. So, we’ll split it.” You pressed the letter opener into his neck when he scoffed at you. “Or, I could just cut your throat now, tell those two gals you assaulted me, and keep it all to myself. Which would you prefer?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Fine.” He spat at you. You had the upper hand for now, but he could find a way to get rid of you eventually, he was sure. His face split in a grin suddenly. “Y’know, we should consummate our little agreement in some way. Make it official.” He moved his hands behind you and pressed you into him roughly, making you gasp when you felt him grind his erection into your hip. “I can make you feel better than that stupid bitch did.” He moved a hand up the inside of your thigh until he was cupping your heat through your panties, groaning when he found you soaked.

You bit your lip as he ran his fingers over the sopping fabric of your panties, teasing them against your throbbing clit. You kept the blade against his throat as you rocked into his hand, begging for more friction.

“You wanna consummate it?” You gave him a wicked grin as you slowly withdrew the letter opener, tutting softly as a thin line of blood rose from his skin when it left. “Get on your knees.”

He pouted at you, that wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for. You shook your head and brought the blade back up to his neck swiftly, with a click of your tongue.

“Look at that, already not holding up your end.” You scolded as he eyed you warily.

He just grumbled at you as he sank to his knees, digging his fingers into your thighs and drawing them apart slowly. He hooked his fingers underneath the sides of your panties and drew them slowly down your legs. You withdrew the blade from his neck and set it aside as he latched his palms under your hips and pulled you to the end of the desk, running his freshly shaven cheek over the smooth skin of your inner thigh and inhaling your scent.

You broke eye contact when you felt him breathe against your entrance, thrusting your hips forward to drive yourself into his mouth as his tongue flicked out to taste you. He dragged it over your slit in a heavy stripe that had you panting with need. You ran your fingers through Charles’ hair and gripped tightly, drawing him closer to you as he moaned against your core.

“Fuck.” You murmured as you fell back on your elbow, screwing your eyes shut as he thrust his tongue into you, curling it inside your canal. “Charles.”

His fingers were gripping your thighs so hard above your stockings you were sure there were going to be bruises tomorrow. His lips brushed softly against your folds as his tongue lapped up the evidence of your arousal greedily, making you moan.

You felt him release one thigh and bring his fingers to stroke over your slit as he disconnected his mouth to give you a wicked grin. “You need to be quiet, doll. All we need is you blowing the whole thing when I make you cum.” He plunged two fingers into you and curled them in a beckoning motion and you collapsed against the desk with a thud, writhing into his hand and whining softly.

You shoved your fist into your mouth and bit down on your knuckles when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently, making your back arch off the desk. He chuckled as he felt you clench around his fingers and he increased the pressure on your tiny bud, sucking even harder as your body rolled underneath him.

“That’s right sweetheart, cum for me.” He curled his fingers one more time as he latched onto you and that was that. You sobbed into your hand as your spine curled, every muscle in your body going rigid for just a beat before you were trembling in bliss, your release gushing over Charles’ chin as he kept fucking his fingers into you while you rode it out.

“God, darling, that was something.” He grinned down at you as he rose to stand between your legs, watching you shiver as aftershocks wracked your body. You looked sinful with your skirt bunched around your waist and your cunt on full display. One of your stockings had come loose from your garter belt and was starting to slide down your thigh. “If we’re gonna have an even partnership though, I think you owe me something.”

He bent over you and pressed his mouth to yours possessively, shoving his tongue between your swollen lips and probing the warm cavern of your mouth as he wrapped one hand around the back of your neck. His other hand started traveling underneath your back, searching for the buttons to undo your dress.

“Alright, fuck this.” He withdrew his hand from beneath you and started fumbling it around the desk searching for something. You gasped into his mouth when you felt the cool silver of the letter opener press against your chest, but he just drew in down in a quick slash, tearing open your dress and the thin lace of your bra until your breasts were exposed.

Charles watched the rise and fall of your chest hungrily as he rose above you, wrenching his tie and jacket off before starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. You reached down to undo his belt and whipped it off through the loops before working on the buttons of his pants. He stepped back when you had finished your work to slip out of his shoes before sliding his slacks down his legs and tossing his shirt aside.

He started tracing his fingers over your thighs lightly as he stepped closer, nudging his tip against your pussy and making you whine. Charles just chuckled as he teased you, one of his thumbs rubbing right next to your slit before withdrawing it again.

“Maybe we should renegotiate, doll.” He pressed the head of his cock into you slowly before dragging it out again. “I bet you’d give me anything right now just to get me to fuck this sweet little cunt.”

“Fuck you, Blackwood.” You hissed at him before it devolved into a moan as he brought up a hand to palm at your breast and you felt the sensation echo in your core as you clenched around nothing.

He lined himself up and clapped his palm over your mouth before spearing into you violently. You screamed into his hand and felt tears leak down your cheeks as another orgasm ripped through you and your shuddered as he began to fuck into you like a madman.

“God, this pussy is so tight, doll. So fucking warm and ready for me.” He kept his hand over your mouth as he bent to trace a bead of sweat that was trailing through the valley of your breasts with his tongue, moaning at the salty taste of you before mouthing softly over the slope of one breast to lave his tongue over your nipple. He laughed against your skin as he felt you clamp around him, your hips thrusting to match his as you neared another release. “You gonna be quiet if I move my hand, darling?” You nodded and sucked in a ragged breath when he removed his hand.

His hand moved underneath your hips and tilted you just slightly as he buried his face in your neck, sucking softly at the hollow behind your ear. You dug your nails into the muscles of his back when he brought his hand between the two of you to rub his fingers against your clit.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” You whispered, tossing your head back and arching into Charles as you felt a warm coil tightening in your stomach.

“Be quiet about it.” He hissed at you, pressing his cheek to yours as he continued rutting into you.

You dipped your head and sank your teeth into his shoulder as your pleasure took hold of you and you heard him swallow a shout as you fluttered around him, your legs holding him to you tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He growled in your ear, bringing up one hand to brace himself against the desk and stare into your eyes. “God, I’m close, darling. You got one more for me?”

You smirked and shoved him off you roughly, making him stumble back and land heavily on the settee. You crawled into his lap and sank onto him with a hiss, grinding into him slowly before you started fucking yourself on his cock.

Charles leaned back and gripped your hips tightly, guiding you as you impaled yourself on his length over and over. You picked up the pace and he groaned as he watched your tits bounce with each thrust of his hips. You braced a hand on his chest as your eyes fluttered closed and you bit at your bruised lips. One more drive of his hips had you collapsing on top of him, your pussy strangling his cock as he fucked you through it. Your body rolled against him as he turned your head to kiss you deeply.

You felt his hips stutter and suddenly you were flooded with warmth as his seed shot into you, thick hot ropes of his spend filling you up and leaking out around his cock as he groaned into your mouth.

The two of you laid there for a bit, panting as you waited for your breathing to regulate. You were the first to move, standing over him and trying to think of some way to cover yourself long enough to make it to your room, eventually deciding to just pull the ruins of your dress over your shoulders and hope for the best. You smirked down at Charles as he started to sit up, his cock coated in a mix of your releases and his skin flushed. His perfectly coifed hair was now falling into his eyes in sweat-soaked curls as he gazed up at you through his thick lashes.

“I think this is the start of a pretty great partnership, darling.” You teased him over your shoulder as you headed back up to your room, leaving him to clean up the lounge on his own.

Not my gif

A/N: Surprise!! Our reader is a bad, bad girl! We’ll see what sort of other trouble she and Charles get up to!

[maysbanks]

dancing in the dark.

it’s been a hot minute and some of y’all will be surprised that this came from me as i’m very anti rafe but i’ve been in a drew mood for the past couple of weeks and this kinda came from that so enjoy lmao. also i’ll come back and put the read more on tomorrow sorry i’m lazy and wrote this on my phone lol (just imagine this an au kinda thing ok)

this includes rafe being sex on legs, oral sex (female receiving), swearing, mention of alcohol and drug use etc

you’re forced to go to midsummer’s by your friends and the night ends up unexpectedly with rafe cameron three fingers deep in you

“Do you think I should wear a bra with this?” You looked over to Kiara who was stood in front of her wide mirror littered with Polaroids of you and the gang, summer yellow dress held up to her half naked body as she assessed her appearance. Your eyes rolled, a heavy sigh emitting from your lips.

“I don’t know Kie, how about you not wear the dress at all and ditch the Kook fest and stay in with me?” You tried, (about your thousandth attempt at getting her to see sense and not force you to go to Midsummer’s with her), but all you got in return was another eye roll and laugh from your curly haired friend, who turned and sent you one of her signature ‘I’m very much done with your shit’ looks.

“We’re going,” she stressed, and you whined, throwing your body back atop her bed and holding a pillow over your face in silent protest. “Stop being such a baby and get over yourself. We’re all going, it’s not like I’m just feeding you to the lions.”

She had a point, but you refused to admit it. You’d be in a mood all night if it meant you were to attend Midsummer’s, which Kie was forcing all of you to go to. She was the only Kook in your group of friends, which meant she was the only one that attended the party every year, but this year John B was also invited along due to Sarah Cameron being his girlfriend (he’d protested just as much as you when he first found out), and Pope would be there anyway because him and his dad would be working there for the night with their barbecue, and so Kie had the bright idea to invite the remaining two of you along; you and JJ.

If you were throwing a hissy fit, then JJ would be ten times worse. You could just imagine him stomping his booted feet as he refused to put on the suit that John B forced him to rent, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d somehow managed to crawl out of a window and escape the desperate clutches of his best friend. The thought almost made you laugh out loud, but then you remembered you were in a mood and clamped your lips shut beneath the silky purple pillow you still held captive over your head.

“Please don’t make me go,” you pleaded. You grunted when a sudden weight landed on your abdomen, the pillow you were clutching wrenched from your hands and thrown across the room, your eyes landing on Kiara’s who frowned down at you from her position straddling your waist. (If anyone were to walk in then and there and see you both half naked on her bed you were sure you’d give them a heart attack.) “Please, Kie. I’m begging you.”

Kie sighed. “It’s one night, you can manage for one night ‘kay. I’ve been doing this practically my whole life and I’ve survived, so can you.” You groaned at her matter of fact tone, huffing when she shifted her weight and gripped your cheeks in her hands, effectively cutting off any whining you were about to do and squishing your face between her hands. “Now, shut up moaning, get off my bed, and get dressed. You look so hot, and you’re going to look even hotter in that dress.” Her face suddenly changed, the stern glare morphing into a cheeky grin. “Who knows, maybe your night will end up with you on your knees.”

“Ugh, Kie!” You groaned, shoving her off of you and trying your best to ignore her cackle that had your lips quirking upward. Sending her a quick glare, you eyed the dress she chose for you that was hanging on her wardrobe door. “Fine, I‘ll go. But I’ll be complaining the whole time.”

• • •

Turned out Kiara was right, you did look hot in your dress. It wasn’t often that you did dress up, being a Pogue in the Outer Banks there was never really any reason to, and it’s not like you could afford it anyway. You really didn’t want to know how much the dress you were wearing cost, the expensive feeling fabric enough to make you cringe. It was pretty, the emerald green a stark contrast to Kie’s light yellow, the smooth silk cooling you down in the humid summer evening. It was a deep plunge, the sides of your boobs mildly exposed enough to have people turning their heads or dipping their eyes down to catch a glance. The skirt fell mid length just a bit under your knees, but your legs were exposed nicely due to the slits on both sides that began at your mid thigh. With a pair of heels that you also borrowed from Kie’s wardrobe, you had to admit you looked the part and some more for an evening at Midsummer’s.

“Holy shit,” Pope breathed when he saw you, standing alone at the grill he would be tending to for most of the night. “You’re wearing a dress.”

“Nice observation skills, Caption Obvious,” you sassed, still in a bitter mood over your attendance at the event but feeling a little better with a beer in your hands. Your lips curled in mild disgust as you glanced around you, everywhere you looked a rich and stuck up Kook would be stood there, nursing their expensive cocktails and whiskey with the finest suits and dresses on as they made idle chat about where they’d be vacationing to and what newest model of car they’d just gotten. “I can’t believe I’m here. Midsummer’s sucks.”

Pope nodded in agreement to your statement, looking away from you briefly to flip over a burger sizzling on the grill. “Least you haven’t got it as bad as John B, Sarah’s been at him all day, making sure that he turns up. Poor guy has no idea what’s coming for him, spending the night talking to Ward and all his rich buddies.”

Just as Pope mentioned the man’s name, said man and his family appeared at the door of the country club, making their grand entrance as usual, all eyes turning to gawk as the Cameron family stride in, Ward and Rose in front (you tried not to stare too hard at the concoction atop the blonde woman’s head, it would hurt your eyes), Wheezie just behind them, grinning at the attention she was receiving, Sarah a little behind her, dragging along an embarrassed looking John B on her arm (you and Pope shared a look and snorted simultaneously).

Your eyes, however, upon returning on the Cameron clan, suddenly couldn’t look away from the person right at the back of the group, dragging his feet with a small frown on his pink lips and hands in his pockets as he ignored all extended hands held out for him to shake and instead assessed the crowd stood beneath him, as if looking for someone. You took the time to glance him over, appreciating the way his body looked in a light grey suit, black dress shirt beneath complimenting the outfit perfectly. You’d noticed his hair a bit ago, the times you’d crossed paths or seen him around town you couldn’t help but notice it - he’d stopped gelling it and wore the dark blonde strands freely, letting it flop on his forehead in a way you thought attractive. From the last time you’d seen him he’d obviously gotten in a fight (not surprising for his character), as he was sporting a bruised cheek on his right side. All in all, he looked fucking good. And you hated to admit it, because he was Rafe Cameron. And you were meant to hate Rafe Cameron.

When his light blue eyes landed on you though, all thoughts of that kind left your mind and all that was left was the ones that had you mentally undressing him. As if knowing your exact thoughts, his lips curled into a smirk as he stared you down, neither of you breaking the contact. That lasted a whole 56 seconds (were you counting?) before the trance was broken for you, and you were knocked on the shoulder by an aggressively big hand that belonged to JJ Maybank.

“I can’t fucking believe I’m here right now,” he whined in a high pitched voice, Kie on his other side rolling her eyes, Pope chuckling amusedly at his friend. You ignored them all, turning your head back desperately hoping that Rafe hadn’t moved in the few seconds you looked away, your heart hammering wildly in your chest when he realised no, he had not, and was still staring at you from across the lawn, this time his eyes swooping down your figure and taking you all in, a hand rested at his jaw and fingers dangerously close to his lips as he did. When he was finished, he caught your eyes again, this time sending you a wink and a smile when all you could do was stare back with parted lips. “Hellooo, is anyone in there?”

You turned briefly to JJ who along with Pope and Kiara was staring at you and sending you confused looks, and you swallowed as you questioned them, handing JJ the drink in your hands he requested and denying the offer of weed. The three sent you crazed glares when you refused, after all weren’t you the one that downright refused to attend and made a big deal out of it and specifically said ‘that somebody had better smuggle in some good booze and weed to get me through the night’. But all that had left your mind the minute your eyes landed on Rafe Cameron, and you had other ideas on how to get through the night - hopefully ending up with you sat on his dick.

When you looked back at where Rafe was stood, however, you were disheartened to see that he’d moved, and when you looked around the lawn to try and spot him you saw him stood in the midst of a conversation with Topper and Kelce, his mouth moving and his words directed at them, but his eyes still on you.

Your lips pulled into a small smirk as you decided waiting a while wouldn’t hurt, if it meant the night would end up how you wanted it to, which you were positive it would as Rafe licked his lips, slowly and purposely, his eyes dancing along your figure. You just hoped it would be soon, because you weren’t sure how long you could last without feeling his hands on you.

• • •

“Fuck, these heels are so uncomfortable,” you muttered, stood off to the side with the gang as you sneakily passed vodka disguised in a water bottle between the five of you, John B having escaped the clutches of Ward Cameron and his rich buddies to join you all in complaining and making fun of the festivities that Midsummer included.

“Take em off,” John B suggested with a careless shrug, yours and Kiara’s shared scoff at the possibility of it making him frown.

JJ grinned lazily, “Nah, nah, what she needs to take off is that dress,” he gestured to you, finger pointing accusingly at your semi exposed chest. “I mean, is there even any point in wearing anything? You might as well, y’know, liven up this party while you’re at it.”

“In your dreams, Maybank,” you rolled your eyes, taking a swig of the bitter alcohol when Pope passed it to you, ignoring JJ’s return of ‘oh trust me, it will be’. “I have other plans on how to liven up this party anyways, for me, at least.”

Kie’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” She voiced the gang’s thoughts, waving a hand in dismissal as the alcohol was offered to her, holding a hand on her stomach to show that she’d had enough and felt sick. You just grinned cheekily, taking a hit of the vodka next when Pope also refused.

As if he knew exactly what you were just talking about, a voice suddenly sounded from somewhere behind you, the distinct attractiveness of it causing your head to turn and your eyes to meet Rafe’s as he stood a bit away from you and the gang, hands once again in his pockets of his slacks as he seemingly ignored the rest of your friends, eyes only on you. A smile made its way onto your face without you even realising, and it was as if John B had been shot right in the stomach when he came to the realisation, a loud groan of protest leaving his mouth.

“C’mon, you can’t be serious,” he practically pleaded, the remaining three of your friends still clueless and confused as to what was going on as they chorused their questions. You ignored them all, shoving the near empty bottle into John B’s hands and sending the guys a wide smirk and wink before you turned on your heels and made your way towards where Rafe was seemingly waiting, a smug smirk on his own pretty pink lips. “Oh my god, she is! She actually is!”

You were too far away by the time you made it to Rafe to hear exactly what your friends were saying, but you were close enough to hear their collected groans of disgust and exclaims of protest when John B had finally explained what was happening. You payed no mind, even when JJ shouted after you in warning, your feet landing you right in front of Rafe. The dirty blonde swiped his tongue over his teeth as he took you in so up close, his eyes glistening under the shine of the fairy lights hung up all over. He stared at you for what felt like an eternity before he glanced over your shoulder, taking note of your foul faced friends.

“Seems like they don’t want you to come with me,” he spoke in a low voice, the rumble of it so close to you and the suggestion of his words sending shivers down your body and right to your core.

You shrugged simply. “I don’t really give a fuck.” You informed him promptly, your words making a grin form on his face.

“Then let’s go, baby.” You wasted no time in taking his outstretched hand, letting him lead you away from the crowd and out towards the back. You had to put your full trust in him then, you had no idea as to anything about the country club, had no possible clue as to where he was taking you, but you found no issue in trusting him, the need for him to fuck you senseless the only thing staying in your mind.

It was when you landed in a hallway upon entering the building from a back door when he let go of your hand and instead raised them to your face, pulling you close to his body and your head near his as he pressed his lips against yours with a certain kind of desperation you’d never felt before. You gasped into his mouth at the intensity of it, hands moving to grip his hair between your fingers as he backed you up and pressed you flush against a wall, his knee resting between your legs.

When he pressed it slightly against you, you couldn’t do anything else but moan into his hot kiss, heavy rasps of breath escaping your chest. Rafe pulled back slightly, cheeks flushed and lips cherry red, his pupils dilated and staring you down. He did the same action, watching you this time, and when you moaned just a little bit louder and threw your head back to bang against the wall, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, Rafe let out a low groan. “You’re so fucking hot,” he mumbled as he pressed up against you once more, hands at your hips and bundling your dress between his large digits, causing the fabric to ride up your legs just a little. “Dressed up all nice, your tits fucking perfect and practically pooling out, you like the attention on you don’t you, baby?”

You never thought you did until now, but you weren’t about to tell him that, simply nodding your head at his words in an attempt to make him kiss you again with those beautifully sinful lips. Rafe did no such thing though, instead looking to you with those pretty blue eyes as he gripped the dress tighter in his palms, the fabric moving higher, exposing more and more, his thigh pressing to you again. You let out a whine at the feel of it, lips parting in pleasure at his actions. “Let me hear you say it, baby. Say you like the attention.”

“I like it,” you gasped out, desperate for him to do something, anything, even in this dimly lit hallway where anyone could catch the both of you. “I like it so fucking much, Rafe. I like the feel of eyes on me, especially yours.”

Rafe moaned low in his throat, one hand moving to grip your jaw as he kissed you, lips moving open with yours and slipping his tongue in your mouth, the grip he had tightening ever so slightly the more time that went by. You had no idea when he'd picked you up, forcing your legs around his waist and pressing you further into the wall, his lips leaving yours to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, chest and shoulders. You almost lost it completely when he trailed further down, following the plunge of your dress and kissing the space between your tits, sucking ever so gently. “Fuck, Rafe,” you moaned when his body seemed to go down with his head, ending up with you practically sitting on his squatted knees as he gripped your sides with his large palms, holding your body to him tightly as he continued his trail of warm and wet kisses on your exposed skin.

Rafe allowed his tongue to lick a stripe of your exposed tit on your left side, the whine that emitted from your lips at his sinful action echoing in the hallway. Rafe pulled his head back from you, eyes blown wide as he looked to you. “Fucking Christ, do you wanna get caught baby?”

At the half-assed shake of your head, too desperate to feel his mouth back on you, his hands trailed down your body and instead clutched your ass, holding you possessively to him as he straightened his knees and stood straight, a gasp emitting from your lips when he did so and caused friction right to your pussy at the movement. Rafe seemed to realise what he did at the same time you did, and the moan that left his own mouth was one you never wanted to forget. “Fuck, let’s get you out of here.”

The best place available in the country club turned out to be the family bathroom. You had no time to dwell on how big the space was, almost as big as your entire living room in your house, before you were set down on the marble counter and pulled back to Rafe’s mouth once more. You wasted no time in returning his hot kiss, your hands at the back of his neck as his slid under the slits of your dress and clutched your thighs for a few seconds before trailing higher and landing one hand over your thin panties, cupping your pussy.

“Fuck me,” you moaned loudly. Rafe grinned against your lips, pearly white teeth clashing with your own.

“That’s the plan, sweetheart,” he mumbled against you and you panted as he started to move down your body, peppering kisses along your body on his way, before he landed between your legs, his palms on your knees as he kneeled on his own. “Open your legs,” he demanded and you did as asked with no hesitation, causing him to chuckle darkly. “Needy aren’t we, baby?”

Of fucking course you were, you wanted to say. You’d been waiting for this all night, you wished to speak. But you bit your tongue, not wanting to delay any action any further. When you didn’t answer, however, Rafe tugged on the back of your knees slightly, causing your ass to slip from the counter a little bit, your pussy more exposed and closer to his face as he awaited your response. “Yes, Rafe! I’m fucking needy.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, and you whined lightly when he blew on your core, goosebumps forming on your skin. Rafe bundled your dress in his warm palms, moving it so it was above your hips and you were fully on show to him, your white lace panties completely soaked through. Rafe groaned at the sight, looking at your pussy like it was water and he hadn’t had a drink in days. “So fucking wet,” he muttered, more to himself than you, and you weren’t sure if he wanted an answer to that but he didn’t wait for one anyway, pulling your panties down your legs and throwing them carelessly behind him. “I’ve been waiting for your pretty pussy all night.”

“Oh god,” you moaned when his fingers trailed along you, large digits on either side of your clit as he pressed them together and grinned when you screamed at the friction. You watched as his dirty blonde head went between your thighs, and felt his hot mouth on you not a second later. He was so fucking good, you thought, you never wanted this to end even though it had only just started, not wanting to waste another minute of your life without Rafe Cameron between your thighs.

His tongue was leaving long trails, and he flattened it out against you making you shiver. One hand left your knee to grip the back of your calf as he slipped his tongue in your pussy, your head banging against the mirror behind you. His fingers followed after, his tongue leaving you only to be replaced by his long digits as you moaned helplessly from above him, one hand gripping the counter while the other tugged on his hair. When you pulled particularly hard on the strands, he would hum against you and it would send a whole new wave of pleasure throughout your body that you had to stop yourself from screaming too loudly every time.

You could distinctly hear the beat of the music coming from the party occurring outside, the beginning of Bruce Springsteen’s smooth voice hitting your ears as he sang along to Dancing In the Dark, before the sound was replaced by your own scream as Rafe entered a second finger into your pussy, his tongue sucking on your clit simultaneously.

Everything was too much and you weren’t sure how much more you could take, feeling the familiar build of light pressure in your belly as you managed to rasp out, “Rafe, I’m gonna cum,” into the room, and you weren’t even sure he heard you before he pulled his face away, his fingers moving at a perfect rhythm and pace still within you.

“Hold it, baby,” he was saying, blue eyes staring up into your own as you shook your head in a silent plea, begging to be able to let go. The hand that wasn’t fucking you reached up under your dress and found your tit, fondling it in his palm and lightly squeezing your nipple between the rough pads of his fingertips. “C’mon baby, just a second. You think you can take another finger?”

You were practically seeing stars already, your orgasm right there within reach, but you nodded despite yourself, wanting this wonderful feeling to never end. Rafe smiled as he moved his head in closer again, pressing a kiss to your clit as he mumbled, “That’s my girl,” into you before adding another finger as promised, three fingers deep in your cunt.

The feel of his fingers fucking you, his mouth upon you, the excitement of the night and thrill of the possibility of getting caught in the bathroom at the country club, mixed with the thud of the music and low groans from Rafe was evading every one of your thoughts and you couldn’t think clearly, you weren’t even sure what you were doing, but you knew that you were begging, praising, screaming into the thick air that the pair of you had created. Rafe’s head was still buried deep between your thighs, and the sight of him down there could have ended you in itself.

“Cum for me, baby,” the vibration of his voice on your cunt had you gasping, fingers knotting in his hair as your spine curled so much that your forehead was pressed against the cool glass of the mirror you were seated against, shoving your pussy further up into his mouth and effectively causing his fingers to curl beautifully inside you. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let go.”

It hit you like a train: your vision blurred, your chest heaved, your stomach clenched, and your legs and arms turned to jelly. Throughout it all Rafe still remained there, fingers buried in you and riding out your orgasm with you. His mouth detached from your pussy and he chose to watch you come undone by him instead, his cherry red lips parted in amazement as he watched you scream from above him. You gasped as you felt his fingers leave you, opening your eyes to watch him take the soaked digits into his mouth and suck them clean, a moan of approval leaving his mouth at the taste. You had no time to register him going back in, his mouth back on your pussy and licking you clean of your cum, a loud and needy whine falling past your lips at the sight.

When he pulled back, a satisfied smile upon his glistening lips, he wasted no time in leaning up and pressing back against you, one arm curling round your back and pulling you flush against him, the other in your hair as he kissed you, the taste of you on his tongue.

“I think you should come to Midsummer’s more often,” he mumbled, and you smiled against his lips, legs wrapping around his waist and heels pressing to his ass causing him to rub against your exposed core.

“If it’s gonna end up with me getting fucked by you in the bathroom every time, then I don’t see why I should complain.” You cheekily taunted, your own lips moving along his jaw.

Rafe growled low in his throat, his blue eyes catching his reflection in the mirror behind you, watching as you sucked on his neck. He grinned to himself, a hand palming your ass as he watched.

“How about I fuck you right now against this counter and make you watch, huh?”

(Fuck, maybe Midsummer’s wasn’t so bad as you originally thought after all.)

[probably-not-a-rocketscientist]

calculated love and complicated confessions

summary: your time on cloverfield station has lead you to two conclusions: love is complicated and not everyone is who they seem

warnings: mutual pining, slight angst with a happy ending, mention of harm to others, one (1) german phrase that i'm pretty sure i butchered

a/n: did i write this all week when i should have been studying for my finals? yes. also, i saw this movie three years ago in chinese so i might have gotten some details wrong. english is not my first language so constructive criticism is encouraged. enjoy!

——

As an engineer, you knew the importance of trial and error. However, you did not expect for it to keep you in space for nearly three year with seven other scientist. You all found a sense of family with each other, but you couldn't help the need of being on earth grow every day.

One crew member you payed particularly close attention to was Ernst Schmidt. You noticed the little things about him; like how he would comb his fingers through his hair when it fell to his face because he insisted on keeping it long, or when he would curse in his native tongue when he got frustrated with his work.

After a while, the whole station seemed to have caught on to your fondness for Schmidt, except the physicist himself. He was oblivious to the constant teasing by the other crewmates, thinking it was only because of how close you two were as friends.

However, he wasn't the only clueless person on the station. You had failed to notice all the advances that Schmidt had made — like his hands lingering on to yours for a second more when they touched, or always insisting on being paired with you when you all were sent to do assignments throughout the deck. He found your presence to be intoxicating, but didn't push too far in fear that you didn't feel the same way.

—

The day before another test, you stayed in the dining room all night reviewing your calculations. You were almost positive that they were correct, but it would kill you if you were the one responsible for the accelerator being unsuccessful.

You were so focused on your work that you didn't notice how quiet the station was. You checked your wristwatch and it was well over midnight. Sleep wasn't a priority for you right now, but you knew you needed to be well rested for the test in a couple of hours.

Right as you were about to get up, Schmidt entered the room. His hair was messy and he was in sweatpants and a t-shirt. A pair of wire-framed glasses sat on his face, something he only wore when he forgot to put in his contacts — or in this case, retrieving an item from the kitchen at this ungodly hour. You forced yourself to look away, worried that you were starring at him for too long.

"Why are you still working? It's very late," he comments as he opens the refrigerator and grabs a bottle of water.

"I'm just nervous about tomorrow. We don't have a lot of firings left and I want to get this right," you responded.

"You've been working non-stop for the past month, I'm certain you will do just fine," he reassured with a smile. "And if not, I will take over your post."

"The last time I checked, I had one more PhD than you."

"I'll catch up eventually, you know."

He was fidgeting with his water bottle, unsure how to prolong this conversation. "Let me walk you back to your quarters, you need the sleep."

Without hesitation, you rose from your chair and began walking beside him. Walking through the halls of the station at night usually made you uneasy, but Schmidt's presence made it slightly more comfortable. The heavy clanking of your steel-toed work boots contrasted the light thumps of his sneakers.

After a few more paces, you arrived at your room. You punched in your passcode and the door slid open.

"Well, this is my stop. Thanks for making sure I got back safely," you joked.

"Of course," he responded.

You could tell that he was also tired so you didn't want to hold him for too long. "Goodnight Schmidt," you bid.

"Goodnight liebling," he responded. He began walking back to his own room before you could process what he said.

"What does that mean?" you questioned.

"You'll understand soon enough," he answered without looking back.

Even though you were confused by his response, you closed your door and locked it. Exhausted, you fell onto your mattress without taking your boots or jumpsuit off. Within a few seconds you felt your eyelids getting heavy and slipped into your sleep.

—

The control room was silent, worried that any movement or noise would cause the dial to turn in the unfavorable direction. The particle accelerator was fired less than a minute ago and the dial was slightly moving in between the red and green zones. This was first time the machine had been able to turn on and to have it successfully work would be nothing short of a miracle.

All of you held your breath as the dial began to turn again, this time in the green. Suddenly, it lowered significantly towards the safety levels.

It worked.

Cheers and laughter filled the room as you all celebrated the victory. After years of failures and dead-ends, the feeling of achievement was exhilarating.

—

You were thrown into chaos when you got back to earth. After the return shuttle landed in the Atlantic, a helicopter took you all back to mission control in London. Everyday consisted of either physical test to make sure the artificial gravity didn't have any negative effects on your body, or press conferences about how the eight of you solved the energy crisis. You couldn't turn on the news without some mention of the Shepard, but you were just glad to be home.

By the end of the month, you and the rest of the crew were burned out, both mentally and physically. You, Tam, Hamilton, and Mundy decided to stay in London and lead a team at mission control to monitor the Shepard's status. Kiel, Acosta, and Volkov were to return to their families and respective countries tomorrow. You hadn't heard much from Schmidt, but you assumed that he would return to his life in Germany. Since today was the last day all of you be together for a while, Hamilton decided to take you all to a pub downtown.

You watched the others play, or at least attempt to play, billiards closely from the bar. Your feet were aching so you decided to sit down but you were still actively encouraging them. After a couple rounds, Schmidt walked over towards you.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked politely.

"It's all yours," you gestured. He pulled out the stool and sat with his back facing the tabletop. You notice his outfit, a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of dark trousers. It was a change from his usual jumpsuit uniform and a polo shirt with jeans.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, letting the soft conversations of the pub fill the empty space between you. It was almost a bittersweet moment; one of the last moments you would spend together.

Almost as if he read your mind, he answered your thought. "I'm not going back to Germany," he said.

A sigh of relief rang through your head, but you still couldn't help but be curious about his decision. "Why not? You probably have hundreds of women lining up to be with the 'German man that saved the world'," you joked.

He was unresponsive to your comment as he gathered his thoughts. His demeaner changed and he shifted in his seat so that now he was facing you. "Can I make a confession?" he asked.

"Of course, Schmidt," you replied. Now you were worried that something was wrong. He wasn't one for serious conversations so you knew this was important.

"As you may know, my country has been trying to start a war with Russia for nearly a decade. When the Shepard was built, the government sent me as a spy to prevent it from working. I was suppose to send logs of my progress back to them, but I never did. The day before we activated the device, I received a transmission ordering me crash the station into the ocean with all crew member on board. If I go back to Germany, they will have me arrested for treason."

You were shocked by his words and couldn't think of anything to say. You knew that Schmidt would never betray the crew, and apparently the cost of that was being exiled from his own country.

He was now looking down on the floor, worried that he would see disappointment in your eyes if he looked up. "Can you please say something?" he pleaded.

"Why didn't you do it? You knew this was the result, yet you still made the sacrifice? Why?" you asked. You brought your hand to cup his face, tilting his gaze so he was now looking down at you. Your thumb ran over his cheek as an attempt to comfort him.

"I did it for you. And I would do it all again if it meant I could see your smile, even for just one more minute. I understand if you want nothing to do with me after today, but you deserve to know the truth."

It wasn't until now that you realized how close in proximity you were to him. You could smell the cologne he was wearing; citrus with a hint of firewood. Flammable items like fragrance and hairspray weren't allowed on the station, but you could still identify the scent as his own.

"I guess it's my turn to make a confession, right? To even things out," you half-whispered. You continued to move closer to him slowly, seeing if he showed any sign of resistance. His eyes were now fixed on your lips, and yours to his. Deciding to take the final step, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down.

The kiss was slow but filled with passion, the result of bottled up feelings for the past three year. He tasted like cigarettes and tap beer, exactly how you imagined him. His hands traveled down to your waist and attempted to pull you in as close as he could from the awkward position you both were in. A small moan escapes your lips from the contact, a sound that he found to be his favorite.

You pull away moments later to catch a breath of air. His quick breathing was in sync with yours and you let out a slight laugh of relief.

The intimate moment was interrupted by cheering and whistling coming from the billiards table. It was a mix of 'finally's and 'about time's. Your crewmates had a habit of embarrassing you and apparently it applied to public spaces as well. You put your head on Schmidt's shoulder to try to shield yourself from them.

"Should we go over there and say something?" you asked. The lighting in the pub wasn't great, but you could've swore you saw Mundy hand Tam £20.

"In a minute. I want to savour this moment for as long as possible."

[sage-nebula]

9, 14, & 15 with Alan!!

Thank you for sending some!!!

9.) What’s your favourite headcanon(s) for this character?

I mean, I wish it wasn't a headcanon, but that Sycamore unofficially adopted him when he was five! Although I haven't written fic for them in a long while, I still love that lab family with all my heart, and to this day I maintain that it makes the most sense. I mean, even with Alan calling him "professor" — I've read (though I don't know how true this is) that in Japanese culture it's expected that adopted children refer to their adopted parents with utmost respect, and that this is, for example, why Ophilia in Octopath Traveler and Ashe in Fire Emblem: Three Houses refer to their adoptive fathers as "Your Excellency" and "Lord Lonato" respectively. Who knows, maybe it's a similar situation for Alan and something that Japanese fans would recognize even though we don't in the west? Whatever the case though, we've never seen any other parents for Alan, even though they could have ruined my life by cameoing them during the Masters 8. Sycamore was the one to pick him up from the police station after the Flare crisis, the one Steven (and Manon) called to spill the tea about the events of TSME 2 and 3, and one of Alan's most precious people. The idea that Sycamore adopted him, unofficially or otherwise, and then raised him as his own son just makes the most sense. And even if Iwane posted tomorrow and was like, "yeah no Alan's parents live in Lumiose too" well, he's just an animator and not the writer and even if he was the writer I wouldn't care because that's not shown in the show, so there.

14.) What outfit would you really like to see this character wear? Or what’s your favourite outfit of theirs?

I've designed a couple outfits for him! One is the outfit I imagine he would wear to Pasio Island if he decided to go there, which I've drawn here:

The jacket is inspired by / taken from Red's sygna suit in PokéMas (though as you can note by the date, I drew this before the EX palettes were a thing!), the tree on his shirt is a sycamore tree, the doc martens are taken straight from my IRL doc martens and he of course has the half-moon pendant with his Key Stone.

I also a while ago designed and commissioned this art of him in a post-canon lab-inspired outfit that he could wear while he works at the lab / studies for his Ph.D (but also battles as Champion sometimes):

It was for the sidebar on my blog layout at the time, hence the box hahaha. But yeah, it's basically his normal canon outfit, with a lab coat, converse shoes, and the matching pendants with him and Lizardon. Of the two, I prefer the Pasio look because it's more original and fits more into any setting, but both are good!

As for other clothing options for him, I often describe his jeans as having holes worn into them, as in they were whole when he bought them but over time holes have been worn into the knees from how much he's worn them / the work that he's done in them. We see in canon that he prefers baggier pants (because they're comfier) and also that he likes to layer up, suggesting that he gets cold easily / doesn't overheat. I've also described his pajamas as a raglan shirt with a sleeping Snorlax on it, and blue-green plaid pants, which is a nice sleep look for him I think.

15.) Favourite line of theirs?

His mega evolution invocation, of course!

"Key Stone, respond to my heart! Surpass evolution, mega evolve!"

Well, really just the first part. I've said before that each trainer's mega evolution invocation speaks to their relationship with / what mega evolution is to them, and this is incredibly true with Alan. He tells the Key Stone to respond to his heart; aside from being very Magical Boy of him, this is because to him, mega evolution is about the love and trust and bond between him and Lizardon, and also about using the power that comes from mega evolution (and the two of them surpassing their limits) to protect others — particularly those they care about most, but also people in general, as we see when he steps in to help Ash and Pikachu against Team Rocket in their first official meeting. Alan's mega evolution invocation is so much about his core character wrapped up into one memorable line that it's impossible not to love it the most.

[writingsfromhome]

Nuclear Family III

Part 3: Family Meals

A/N: This one gets a little bit more complicated for Y/N, feelings are definitely involved. Thank you everyone for reading/liking/reblogging/commenting!!! <3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V

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

The next day goes by without incident. Harry takes Charlie to the park as I stay home and catch up on missed work. Around 3 in the afternoon, with the sun shining brightly, I leave the flat with an itch in my leg. I'd spent too long indoors. I text Harry saying that I was stepping out.

"Y/N?" Someone calls as I'm about to leave the building. I spot a familiar face and shout out in excitement.

"Marc! I forgot you lived in the same building oh my god!"

"I knew you were in London but I wondered why you never callled...you're living with Harry?" He asks tentatively.

"Yeah," I laugh awkwardly. "Mixup with the air bnb my first day, so we're all here. It's great though, a little hectic but great. Charlie loves it."

"I bet she does," he grins. I forgot he was so handsome. The thing with Marc and I was, we were friends but ever since he came down to LA last year we sort of redefined our friendship to include a few perks. But it worked with us, we only saw each other once in a blue moon. And we were chronically single-me being too busy with being a mother and Marc too busy because directing a magazine meant no time for relationships. So because we got along so well, and we enjoyed the time we spent. We decided to live a little and do something risky. It paid off.

"You should come over some time! Charlie would love to see you too, she still talks about the day we went to Disneyland." Marc crashed at my place last year and Charlie took to him immediately. Maybe because he had the same accent her dad had.

"Maybe I will...and maybe you and I could catch up too sometime if you're free..."

"I'm free now, Marc," I laugh at his attempt to sound discrete. Staying at Harry's, it might get complicated if I invite Marc over. At least until after Charlie's birthday. There were too many things going on until then.

Marc joins me for a bite and by the time I get home Harry and Charlie are home and playing with a new toy she'd gotten. I watch fondly and feel a sense of relief. Charlie loved her time here and that was all I needed to see. A big concern staying with Harry was confusing Charlie where we stood but we were all good so far.

The next couple days go smoothly too. Harry goes out some evenings with his girlfriend and spends most of the days with Charlie, unless he's working. Charlie and I see a play and visit some old friends and we settle into London quicker than expected.

"Are you busy tomorrow evening?" Harry asks that morning.

"I was just going to make dinner at home, big day on Sunday." I take my reading glasses off to focus on Harry.

"My family was thinking of coming tomorrow."

The statement lands with a thud on my chest.

"Oh. Well...I'm sure Charlie will be glad to meet them!"

"You've got to be there. Please Y/N? They're staying for Charlie's birthday on Sunday."

"I..." I glance at Charlie who's curled on the sofa with her stuffed animal. I'd have to see them either way now that I was living here. "Alright. I'll be there."

"Perfect," Harry reaches out to squeeze my hand and I have to remind myself not to jerk it away.

Yes-the last few days have been well. Logistically. But emotionally, I was just as confused and angry at feeling that way. Harry went on dates with his girlfriend but during breakfasts we shared, his gaze would linger. His hand would brush mine, as he showed me something funny on his phone. Or when Charlie forced us to sit with her and play with her stuffed toys, he would make up silly scenes that forced us to be closer. The vibes between us felt tense sometimes and other times it felt like I could lean over and kiss him and the three years apart would disappear.

"I'll let them know." Harry continues about settling the date. "It works perfectly because Gemma was suggesting tomorrow too, and Miranda's free too."

"Miranda?" I ask. Had I heard correctly?

"Yeah. She's got to fly out Sunday for a shoot next week so I won't be seeing her all week. Tomorrow works."

"Miranda's coming to the family dinner?" I ask again, my voice sounding hollow to me. Was Harry an absolute idiot?

"Yeah! My whole family knows her-she's been around for my mum's birthday and Christmas."

Harry really was an idiot. He didn't notice my tone of voice or how ridiculous that was.

"I'm quite tired," I close my laptop screen. "We'll talk later?"

"Yeah." Harry pauses, picking up on my abrupt excuse. "I'll-yeah..."

I don't let him finish. I head to my room and toss my laptop onto the bed, combing my hand through my hair and sighing. I had to stop getting worked up about Harry and Miranda. They were a gorgeous couple and there was no way Harry still wanted me. He was only this nice to me because of the daughter we shared-there were no other feelings involved. I think about inviting Marc, but decide it's too petty. This was about Charlie and maybe I really should just get serious about finding other living accommodations.

***

Charlie sits in front of the TV as I get ready for dinner. The nerves in my stomach are more knotted than a pair of headphones in a handbag. I smooth down my green blouse and look down at my slacks. Maybe I should wear a dress; I looked like I was going to a meeting.

"You look nice," Harry's voice comes from the open doorway.

"I don't look like I'm going to give my first big corporate presentation?" I ask. He shakes his head but I watch his eyes skim over the outfit. He bites his lip to keep from laughing. "Ugh! I knew it. I have to change!"

"No you don't," Harry says, catching my arm on the way out. "You look great in anything."

I roll my eyes, "I know I look great in anything, but I'm having a dinner and I need to find something more appropriate!"

Harry chuckles but follows me back to my room where I toss through the closet. "It's just my family, they don't care what you look like."

"It's not that simple,” I rant, untying the knot around my neck. Why did I even bring this top? “I can’t just throw anything on and call it a night! I have to feel good in it too!”

He steps into the room and tracks my frantic movements from closet to dresser to suitcase. He stops me on my second round to the closet and takes the blouse out of my hands to hold them. "I think you’ll look great in anything, pick something and get on. Just tell your nerves to fuck off.”

“Harry!” I scold, I didn’t want Charlie hearing or she wouldn’t stop saying it.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, a small smile on his face displaying his dimples.

Noticing it, I’m suddenly aware of how we’re standing together. His hands still hold mine, and when I look into his eyes, they’re watching me. This. This is what I meant. Everything was fine living together, but Harry’s gaze, every time I caught it, it would be on me. And it was a heavy gaze. He always seemed like he was deep in thought yet noticing every little detail about me, conflicted, but thoughtful. It usually made me feel self-conscious.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” I give it a shot.

“What?”

“You got so serious,” I try again. “What are you thinking about.”

“You want to know?” Harry seems surprised, which surprises me. Why wouldn’t I want to know what he was thinking about? I nod, and he lets go of my hands. “I was just thinking about you giving a presentation in that outfit, I would-ouch!”

Harry rubs his shoulder where I’d pushed him. I cross my arms, “That’s what you get for making fun-”

“I wasn’t making fun!” Harry swears. “I was trying to say, what I wouldn’t give to sit in on that presentation.”

Heat rushes to my face, I look away from Harry back to my closet. This was too much. "Okay. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'll just...wear...this." I pull out a simple black dress with a pretty neckline and hold it out in front of me, as if it would stop Harry from walking over to me again. When I think he’ll stop, he continues so I take a few steps back until my back hits the closet door.

“Good choice,” he says but his eyes leave a heated trail from my untied blouse up to my lips and then my eyes that are wide in panic.

He’s incredibly close, and I’m freaking out so I nervously tell him I should get dressed. When he doesn’t back away, I lift the dress up in the little space between us. “Harry, I need to change. Are you going to watch me or give me some privacy?”

That seems to snap him out of whatever headspace he was in. He quickly backs up and the pink blush creeps into his cheeks. “I’ll be outside with Charlie.”

A part of me wished he stayed.

***

I join Charlie in front of the TV as we wait for dinner. When his family came in, it wasn't awkward at all. They greeted me like I was still part of their family, and catching up was effortless. They fawned over Charlie and she adored it. It helped Gemma brought her boyfriend (bf), I wasn't the only non-Styles here.

"Is everything alright?" I ask as my eyes scan the room and find Harry typing furiously at his phone.

"Uh yeah," he responds. "Just Miranda. Had something planned later tonight and she didn't realise dinner would be this late."

"Well your family is coming from outside of London," I say, already regretting asking in the first place.

"Yeah," Harry mumbles, still typing. I was clearly not needed there so I join Harry's mom who's trying to arrange the bouquet Gemma brought. We talk as we work, setting up the table even though Harry was throwing this. His mom waves his help away when he finally realises and he easily goes back to Charlie who's showing off all her stuffed animals.

The mood shifts when Miranda appears with her bottle of wine and a suitcase. I try to ignore the sting I feel when he pulls her into an embrace and takes the bottle from her, I try not to compare myself to her. To the way Harry acts with her, and with me in private. I try not to think about what it meant, and try to focus on the dinner instead.

Harry's family remains just as nice, but the problem is it goes from having a family dinner for Charlie's sake to hosting a dinner. It's only when everyone is busy with their glass of wine that Gemma leans into me and says, "I told the idiot not to invite his girlfriend to a family thing but he said there was nothing wrong with that."

"He told me pretty last minute," I respond.

"Don't get me wrong-she's lovely, but it just makes something like this awkward."

"I'm alright," I lie through my teeth.

"Sure," Gemma winks at me before her attention is pulled away by her bf. At least there was one Styles that understood me without me having to say.

•••

"I'm starting school in September," Charlie informs the table halfway through dinner.

"You're growing up so fast," Harry's mum smiles at Charlie.

"That's a big step," Miranda comments and as much as I hated to admit it-she wasn't so bad with Charlie. She made a solid effort and Charlie responded well to her. She was her boyfriend's daughter though, and she usually avoided speaking to me unless Harry was involve, but I was okay with that. 

"Then I'll be five next year!" Charlie continues. I explain to the table how obsessed she was with turning five.

"Because that's when she gets to drink coffee right darling?" Harry nudges Charlie and she grins.

"Coffee!" She shouts and we all laugh but as she soaks in the attention she begins shouting it louder.

"Charlotte," I warn. She glances at me and then looks back at her plate.

"She's just excited we're all here," Gemma comments. "Isn't that right Ms. Y/L/N?"

Charlie beams at being called by her last name, like a teacher would.

"Has she not taken on your last name?" Miranda suddenly asks Harry and it goes silent at the table except for Charlie's humming.

"Uh no," Harry scratches his neck. The rest of the dinner table busies themselves in their food.

"She's always lived with me," I clarify, trying to sweep away the sudden awkwardness. The awkwardness comes from how Harry and I broke up because he didn't know what to do with himself when he realised he was having a baby. There was no way he was ever raising her alone. Not at first anyway, that was when I insisted she keep my last name. "So it makes sense."

Miranda glances between us but bf breaks the silence. "Gemma wants our kids to have her last name, I said hyphenating it wouldn't be too bad."

"It gets too confusing," Gemma says. "Styles is a nice, simple, last name."

"Always in Style," Harry exclaims at the same time I say something similar. We laugh which confuses Charlie enough to tug on my sleeve. She asks for more mashed potatoes and I give them to her. Soon after, Harry's mum brings out the dessert she brought and we all enjoy it with more wine. As the night nears, Gemma and her bf stay behind with Miranda. When Charlie begins cuddling into me on the couch, I put her to sleep, but she whines when I leave so I tell the group I was calling it a night and wash up while Charlie stands with me as I wash my face. She was being unusually clingy but I figure all the attention and new interactions were exciting but also exhausting for her. She just wanted her mum and that warms my heart.

"Did you want anything before you put her to bed?" Harry pops his head in as I'm tucking Charlie's toys around her.

"I'm alright," I smile. "Tonight was nice. Thanks for putting it all together."

"Thanks for staying," Harry moves into the room and kisses the top of our kid's head. I remember the other night when he did the same to me. "It was really nice with you, Charlotte, my family-it meant a lot."

"For her too," I look to our daughter who is finally settling into sleep knowing I had stayed and changed for her. "Although I'm paying the consequence being forced to sleep at 10pm."

Harry chuckles. "Best get your beauty sleep then."

"Yeah," I peel back the covers and wait for Harry to leave but he pauses with his hand on the doorknob and turns back to me.

"Tonight reminded me of old times," Harry says and I can tell he's lost in time as he smiles at the floor. "I haven't felt this happy in a while." His statement makes me sad, and when he looks up at me his expression is tinged with regret. But he forces a smile and nods. "See you tomorrow."

"Harry," I don't know what it was that makes me stop him. Maybe the way he looked at me with the unbearable sadness, or the fourth glass of wine I drank, or feeling the same immeasurable amount of happiness he did tonight. But I walk towards him and wrap my arms around his neck. I indulge myself and bury my nose in his neck and almost cry at the familiarity; the way his hands were always cold as they wrapped around me too, but warmed as they squeezed me to him. His fresh laundry smell mixed with the sandalwood perfume he favoured. Or his body and the way he engulfed me into his chest, like I could carve a home out of it and stay there again.

He sighs as he pulls me tighter, "Y/N-"

"Mom?" A tired voice asks behind me and I rip myself away from Harry to look at Charlotte. She's propped herself on her elbow and is looking between me and her dad.

Shit. Why did I do that? Why did I just make things complicated? Harry's girlfriend was right outside! Our daughter was in this room! I couldn't afford to confuse her or myself. Jesus.

"I'm coming to bed!" I walk towards her to soothe her and I hear Harry slip out of the room.

"She's having a hard time falling asleep," I hear Harry lie from the living room and my heart sinks further in my chest. If he was lying over a shared conversation, a shared hug, then something was wrong and I would have to make it extra clear tomorrow that we were nothing more than polite. Especially as it was Charlie's fourth birthday tomorrow. It had to be perfect.

•••

A small finger pokes my cheeks, "Mommy?" I had no idea what time it was but my head rings with a hangover. I hadn't drank this much in a while. I realise I wasn't having auditory hallucinations when Charlie's voice comes again. "Mom?"

"Charlie what time-" I try to crack an eye open and the clock says 6am. I groan and pull Charlie towards me, eyes still closed. "Why are you up so early birthday girl?"

"Mommy?" When Charlie doesn't respond to the mention of her birthday I know something might be wrong. I force my eyes open, Charlie stares up at me with sad baby doll eyes. My mom alarm starts ringing.

"What's the matter?" I ask, noticing the door was open. She must have woken up earlier.

She shakes her head and buries her head into my chest. I clutch her to me, unsure why she was upset. I'll ask her later, right now, I try to cheer her up.

"My baby is such a big girl now. Hey, what's the matter?"

"Does daddd love us?" She asks innocently. I'm startled by her question, so out of the blue.

"Of course he does. He loves you more than anything in the world. And I love you too. Although I would also love a bit more sleep." I tease her. She wraps her arms around my neck. "Happy birthday, Charlie. I love you."

"I love you too," she surprises me by getting under her covers; once Charlie was up, she never fell back asleep. Maybe this was a birthday miracle, but I snuggle into the warmth. Charlie's behaviour still niggles away at the back of my mind but I eventually drift off to sleep and just pray the rest of her birthday would be happier.

[teddy-bear-surprise]

hi!! how are you? i seen your post about wanting to write headcannons or blurbs and i didn't know if you wanted them to be birthday related but osbddkndjdd staying up until exactly 12 am with peter and once it hits, the reader gives him a bunch of kisses & let's him now how happy she is to be with him!!!

This story is also available on AO3 and Wattpad!

Hi! Thank you so much for the request, I'm doing great today and I hope you are too <3

MASTERLIST

Title: Midnight Birthday

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: None (they joke around about poop and farts, which makes me sound immature, but I promise it’s funny and not like serious)

Context needed: Y/N

I deviated slightly from the prompt on accident, but I hope you enjoy it :)

Your phone rang loudly for the third time, prompting you to finally pick up. Normally, you would ignore everyone’s phone calls, but you realized that Peter was the one calling you. You had set a special ringtone for him, just so this wouldn’t happen, yet he still had to call multiple times just to get your attention.

“Hey, Peter! Sorry I didn’t pick up before… You know how it is, right?”

Peter chuckled on the other end of the line, “Yeah, I know. We should really come up with a better system for you. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if there was an emergency and they had to call you. I know you can’t see me right now, but just the thought gave me goosebumps.”

You heard him shudder, “I’m sure you’re very goosebumpy, Spider-Kid.”

“Hey!” He asserted jokingly, “You know that I prefer ‘Spider-Man’, you know that. And don’t be mean to me! I’m over here calling to invite you out to dinner and this is what I get? I am beyond hurt. I will never recover.” Peter emphasized each word as sarcastically as he possibly could.

“Oh, get over yourself drama queen. Spider-Boy, Spider-Kid, Spider-Man, it’s all the same thiiinnggggg. Just take the compliment, hun. In thirty years– when you’re all old, wrinkly, and a Spider-Senior –you’ll be missing the days when people called you Spider-Kid. Now, what were you saying about dinner?”

“I said I wanted to invite you out to dinner! Were you not listening?”

You rolled your eyes and wished he could see your face right now. “I got that part, genius. I meant like what kind of dinner… Y’know, Where? When? The details, Pete, the details.”

“Oohhhh, that would make sense.” He laughed quietly, shaking his head at his own stupidity. “I was thinking that we could go to that restaurant you love, you know the one you were talking about the other day… Ummmm I think it was called Sveleka? Right? So we could go there around 7…”

Peter’s voice trailed off as he tried to remember the details of his plan and you cut in. “It’s Veselka, but that would be great, Pete. I’ll see you there at 7, love you.”

You hung up the phone before Peter even got a chance to reply. Your phone skills were rudimentary, to say the least, and it always got you into trouble. Luckily, Peter understood your bizarre hatred of phones and phone calls, allowing you to talk to him without worrying too much.

You knew that his birthday was tomorrow and you had developed a plan of your own. It was supposed to be a surprise, and the last thing you were expecting was for him to ask you out to dinner the night before his own birthday. In a way, it made you appreciate him even more, knowing that he loved you enough to randomly call you and ask you out to dinner. But now, thanks to his unexpected decision, you only had two hours to rearrange everything before meeting up with him for dinner. You stared at the giant teddy bear sitting on your bed and sighed. Even though your plan was technically easier to carry out now, you felt a twinge of annoyance about having to modify your schedule.

Originally, you wanted to sneak into Peter’s apartment, along with May’s help, and surprise him with a giant teddy bear that said “I love you” when you hugged it. Ideally, you would get there right at midnight, as the night turned from August 9th to 10th, and show him that you cared. That you cared about his birthday, his happiness, and his wellbeing.

You shook away the thought and positioned the teddy bear so that it looked like it wanted to give you a hug. In between its warm, fluffy arms, you placed a small box. This box was technically Peter’s real present. It contained a small, circular locket with one half of a glass spider and a key. In the very same box, you included a long handwritten note telling Peter how much you loved him and how proud you were of him. Once you rearranged the box and bear to your liking, you began to get ready.

The closet of your apartment was minuscule, as was the whole place, and the limited space had led you to develop a very limited wardrobe. Your outfits only consisting of basic black pieces, one dark green jacket, and three pairs of shoes. Peter always joked that he loved how your closet all looked the same, claiming that it made it easier to find you if you ever got lost in a crowd. You both knew that was far from true since everyone in Manhattan loves wearing black, but you appreciated that he was so kind about your unconventional fashion decision.

You grabbed a simple, long black skirt and a silky black tank top, changing out of your pajamas. It might have been five o’clock in the afternoon, but pajamas stayed on until you left the house. That was just the rule. While you fixed your hair and makeup, you began to worry that Peter would figure out your plan. It was a slightly irrational thought, especially since he was socially inept and on multiple occasions forgot when his birthday was. Still, the thought plagued your mind until the moment you were ready to leave.

As you walked to Grand Central station, you texted Aunt May, letting her know that the plan had changed. May had been the biggest supporter of you and Peter’s relationship from the start. Honestly, she was the only one you could trust because she was the only one who could keep both your and Peter’s identities a secret. You hopped onto the Six heading downtown, hoping that she would reply before your service completely cut out.

You: Hi, May. Peter invited me out for dinner at the last minute so we might have to rearrange a bit.

May: This is why I told you to make plans with him ahead of time, so we wouldn’t run into any bumps like this.

You: I know, sorry. I wasn’t expecting him to do this.

May: I was kind of expecting it… I made a bet with myself that he would do this and it looks like I won!

You: You bet on us?? Is this like a reoccurring thing???

May: Definitely not. That would be immature. I’d never do that.

You shook your head at your phone, laughing at how obvious it was that May bet on your and Peter’s relationship. To you, May was like a second mother, or just a really cool aunt. She seemed to understand how to be just serious enough, but not stiff. Not to mention that she was ten times nicer and more supportive of you than your actual mom.

You: I’m gonna pretend that the last part of the conversation never happened. But what I wanted to tell you was that I’m going to meet Peter for dinner around 7 at Veselka so I won’t be able to go back to my apartment and then to Peter’s in time. I just left the bear at my apartment and I’m thinking of asking Peter to go home with me after we eat, what do you think?

May: Sounds like a solid plan, kiddo. Good luck, and please don’t let Peter eat too many of those sauerkraut pierogies this time, he was gassy for two days. It wasn’t fun.

You: Thanks for the gross heads-up, May. Byeeee

You got off at Astor Place and walked in silence towards the restaurant. You were looking at the ground, head hanging low, when Peter called out to you from across the street.

“Y/N, hi!”

You looked up at him and smiled at the goofy boy waving at you. “Hi, Peter!”

Jogging across the street, you made eye contact with him. He held out a hand towards you, helping you onto the sidewalk, and embraced you. Peter kissed the top of your head softly and gave you one last squeeze before letting go.

“So, I guess we’re both early then. I gotta say that I’m shocked, Parker. I wasn’t expecting you to get here before me.”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” Peter winked at you.

---

The two of you merrily ate your dinner, with Peter threatening to instigate a food fight more than once. You talked about anything and everything, by the time you two were ready to pay the bill, it was almost 11 and you were stuffed.

Peter rubbed his hand on his stomach, poking at it, “I think it would be physically impossible for me to eat any more. Like I would just spchwoooo,” he mimicked an explosion with his hands, “explode.”

“I’m just glad we didn’t order any of those sauerkraut pierogies, May said they made you all gassy last time. I don’t even want to know what would have happened if you ate those and the stuffed cabbage.”

“What?! May said that? I never get gassy. Ever.” Peter lowered his voice, “I’m literally superhuman, it takes more than some sauerkraut and cabbage to mess with this iron stomach.”

“That’s not even close to being true. You had explosive diarrhea after that burrito two weeks ago, and don’t blame the food, you were the only one out of the three of us who got sick. Did you forget that May and I had to take you to the hospital? Because I don’t think that counts as an ‘iron stomach’.”

The two of you argued about stomachs, diarrhea, and food the rest of the way to your apartment, stopping every few minutes to point out airplanes flying overhead. You insisted on walking home so you could arrive almost exactly at midnight. Plus having Spider-Man by your side was basically a guarantee of safety, even in Manhattan. Peter held your hand the whole time, swinging it like a smitten teenager. After walking nearly fifty blocks, you arrived at your apartment. You noticed that Peter seemed hesitant, only lightly resting his foot on the first step leading up the building.

“C’mon, let’s watch a movie or something. I don’t want you to leave yet.” You pouted and tugged on Peter’s hand, pulling him up into the doorway.

“Well then, I guess I’m not leaving.”

---

The two of you were cuddled on your small couch watching Buzzfeed Unsolved, Peter’s favorite show, but you weren’t paying attention. Every few seconds your eyes would dart up at the clock, waiting for the hour hand to strike 12. Peter was entranced, never letting his attention deviate from the screen, and he didn’t even notice that you weren’t looking at the TV. The minutes went by slowly and you were counting down the seconds until midnight, gripping onto Peter’s arm. He thought that you were just scared by the prospect of unsolved murders, not that you were anxiously waiting for his birthday.

The last second passed and the clock struck 12, you immediately jumped out of Peter’s embrace and turned to him. Peter sat up in shock, confused by your sudden movement. You took the opportunity to straddle him and grab his face.

“Happy birthday, My Love.”

You peppered his face with sweet kisses and his eyes widened. His body softened under your touch as a feeling of love and happiness filled his heart. Peter snaked his hands up your thighs, letting them rest on your hips, and squeezed softly. You gave him one last kiss on the lips and rested your forhead against his.

“I have a surprise for you, Birthday Boy.” You lifted yourself off of his lap and held your hand out to him.

Peter took your hand and followed you obediently, curious to see what his surprise was. You opened the door to your room, revealing the large stuffed bear and its matching box. Peter let go of your hand and excitedly ran towards your bed.

Before he could say anything, you began speaking, “I know it’s not much, and I know you probably thought that I’d have like a trail of rose petals in here or something like that. But I wanted to show you that my love for you isn’t just about our physical relationship, my love for you i-is emotional and wholesome. I love you, Peter Parker. I truly love you and I’m so happy that you’re mine. I mean, every morning I wake up, I remember that I’m dating you, and that makes me the happiest person in the world.” You reached over to the box in Peter’s hands, “So, Peter Parker, will you accept this key?”

You opened the box and Peter’s cheeks glowed red. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he nodded his head.

“Yes! I love you so much too. I- Thank you,” He paused, “Oh no. Wait, I don’t have a key for yo–”

“Pete, this is your birthday present. I wouldn’t expect you to give me a gift on your birthday, silly.”

He rambled energetically, “You’re right… I’m still going to get you a copy though. Oh my gosh. I love this so much, and is this a spider because I’m Spider-Man?! Where’s the other half? This is so cool!”

You held up your matching locket, opening it to reveal the other half. “Yep, it is because you’re Spider-Boy. The best superhero in town. And, don’t throw away the little note at the bottom. Well, don’t open it now, but if you ever need a reminder of how much I love you, just read that note.”

Peter held your hands in his and pulled you down, both of you crashing into the giant teddy bear. The second you fell onto it, it blurted a freakish, distorted “I love you”, scaring both of you. You jumped up and looked at a wide-eyed Peter.

“Y’know, maybe we don’t need the bear. I don’t really want to be on the next episode of Unsolved.”

You laughed at Peter’s joke, pushing the bear onto the ground and kissed him. His soft lips tasted like the blueberry dessert you shared and his skin was as soft as butter.

You pulled away, foreheads resting together once more. Peter whispered, “Thank you for giving me the happiest midnight birthday, darling.”

[2manyfandoms2count]

Poisson d'avril

Here, have a half-baked April Fool’s Day fic my brain decided to wake me up for. For context, one of the most popular jokes for April 1st in France is taping paper fish to each other’s backs, the more original the fish the better (my childhood is filled with trying to sneak behind teachers' backs to tape one on them; they were very chill about it, tbh). Poisson d’Avril is also what you say at the end of a joke on that day (think "sike", but festive). More about this great tradition that apparently dates back to at least 1466 here.

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

---

Marinette loved April Fool’s Day at Françoise Dupont. The school was always buzzing with little pranks at that time of the year, the blooming spring giving a wonderfully cheerful backdrop to the shenanigans the collégiens were up to.

These were all very light-hearted, if sometimes a little elaborate.

As usual, some students had been found early in the morning in the classrooms, thwarting their attempt to recreate the legendary horizontal fiasco of 20XX, where everything had been set up to look like the rooms had been flipped by 90°. Mr Damoclès had let them go mercifully, thankful that the students hadn’t been tempted to glue everything to the ceiling in an effort to one-up their predecessors. Somehow, he wouldn’t have put it past Kim and Alix to try and coordinate the project, as a last hurrah before heading on to lycée.

There were also seemingly well-meaning classmates offering chouquettes or donuts in the courtyard, which Marinette knew to stay well away from, knowing the former were likely sprinkled with coarse salt, and the latter filled with the likes of mayonnaise instead of jam. She’d been in their shoes a couple of years prior, building her classmates’ trust by bringing them the sweet delicacies every day for a week, and switching on April 1st as a joke.

Heading to class, she heard a lot of laughter, people telling jokes, or trying to see how far they could take a story without it being called out on it (this year, Nino had Kim panicking over a brevet exam part they supposedly had, which was a step down from the previous year, where he’d convinced him that everybody needed to come in dressed up in medieval costumes, and that he’d landed the court jester role; his friend had turned up the next day in a full outfit, complete with bells on his hat and shoes, and upon discovering the deception, had decided to make good use of them and make the joke everybody’s problem).

However much she enjoyed those kinds of pranks, though, Marinette’s favourite remained the classic poisson d’avril: taping paper fish to people’s backs. It was something anyone could take part in, as a predator or a prey, with or without premeditation. You didn’t necessarily need scissors and tape, if you managed to steal some from somebody else’s back.

Marinette liked to take it seriously. Done right, the exercise demanded stealth she’d had even as a little kid, and had honed ever since being chosen to become Ladybug, as well as creativity she had piles of. She’d stayed up the previous night, making plenty of fish varying in size and colour, some tailored to her friends, like the Rena Rouge and Carapace ones that were intended for Alya and Nino respectively. She’d of course also made the rest of the Miraculous team, as well as some other designs based on Kitty section, her classmates, or celebrities.

As always at the end of the day, Rose walked around with a whole school on her back. It wasn’t clear if she was completely oblivious to it, or if she knew what was going on but enjoyed the giddy giggles of the people who managed to add an extra fish in, or take one off.

The only person who’d managed to escape the prank so far was Adrien, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. Kim, Alix and Nino had gone to great lengths to get at least one fish on his back, even recruiting Markov to sneak behind him, but the boy seemed to have a sixth sense.

No sooner did he hear the faintest of ruffles, that his head would jerk up, eyes darting around to figure out where the sound had come from, thwarting any efforts, no matter how elaborate they’d been.

Marinette had been reluctant to target Adrien, despite having a special fish for him, complete with his stripes and an orange-tipped tail, but as the day went by and more people joined the challenge to trick him, she felt the urge to compete rise in her chest and started unwillingly tracking his every movement, trying to find a breach in his focus.

It was a fastidious process, even for someone who enjoyed watching Adrien happily live his life, but it paid off around the end of the day, just after the last bell.

Marinette noticed that Adrien’s shirt looked a little rumpled around the back as they were retrieving books from their lockers, and approached him calmly.

“Adrien?” She announced her presence when she was right behind him, surprised that he hadn’t turned around yet. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice.

“Marinette!” He yelped, a hand flying to his heart. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you approach.” He chuckled nervously.

“No, I’m sorry I scared you!” Marinette looked down, apparently sheepish. In truth, she was cursing inwardly at the missed easy opportunity. Adrien had been at ease with her coming closer, which she assumed was because it was the end of the day and he’d started letting his guard down; she could have gone about her business and he would’ve been none the wiser. She shook her head; it didn’t matter, she’d just go on with her original plan. “It’s just that… well, it’s stupid, but the back of your shirt is a little creased, and I know how important your appearance is to your family so… Do you mind if I fix it?”

“Thanks Marinette, that’d be awesome.” He smiled at her in a way that would have made her lose her cool, had it been any other day. But she was on a mission, and there was no way she was letting the opportunity of pranking Adrien when nobody else had managed the feat go by.

“Okay, let me just…” Marinette reached into her purse and took the first piece of paper she felt, before gently taping it to Adrien’s shirt, making sure to smooth the fabric at the same time so he wouldn’t realise what she was doing.

“There, all done!” She smiled when she was satisfied the tape had adhered well enough.

He smiled back at her, but was interrupted in his thanks by Nino and Alya calling for them to hurry up.

“Today was really fun, I’m so glad I got to experience it first hand,” Adrien beamed as the group walked out of the building, Nino and Adrien a little ahead of the girls. “And I’m really proud that I survived it without getting pranked!”

Marinette bit back a laugh, eyes darting to his back.

“I wouldn’t be so confident, Sunshine,” Alya replied, untaping the fish from his back and handing it to him.

“What…” Adrien stopped in his tracks, looking at it, and particularly Marinette’s signature on the back of the piece of paper, in disbelief. He turned around with a look of mock betrayal. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me!” He pouted.

“I couldn’t just let you off the hook,” she shrugged with a small smile, making a mental note to reuse the phrase with Chat Noir when she saw him later. He’d enjoy the pun.

Adrien let out a small chuckle as he turned the fish around, but the sound died as he saw the pattern. The colour drained from his face and he froze as he took in the black and green colour scheme and the fish’s whiskers.

“Adrien? Is everything okay?” Marinette frowned, noticing his change in body language.

“Yeah, um… Can I talk to you for a second?” He looked up at her.

“What a great idea!” Alya pushed Marinette towards Adrien before hooking her arm through Nino’s and starting to go down the stairs. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Marinette thought she heard her add “Can you believe they might get together over an April Fool’s joke?”, as she waved them off absentmindedly, but her gaze met Adrien’s troubled one and she decided she’d deal with her best friend later.

“What’s up?” She asked, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks; the adrenaline from succeeding her challenge was evidently starting to wear off.

“What’s this?” Adrien asked cautiously, handing her the fish.

Marinette took it cautiously, saw the pattern, and smiled. “It’s a poisson-chat noir,” she said proudly. It was a bit of a shame she’d picked that one for Adrien, but she guessed she couldn’t have kept it for her partner anyway, given that she’d signed it. Still, she thought he would have liked the joke. Especially if it came from Ladybug.

“How did you know?” he murmured, looking at her incredulously. She tilted her head, raising her eyebrows at his cryptidness. He explicited his thoughts. “I saw the fish you gave Alya and Nino, and the one you managed to pin on Chloé; they were all references to their superhero selves. And now you get this one right as well… How did you know?”

It was Marinette’s turn to freeze and feel the colour draining from her cheeks. “I… I didn’t. I picked one randomly when I saw an opening.”

“Oh.” She saw the cogs turning in Adrien’s brain while she felt her own shut down, still processing one important piece of information.

“Adrien… Are you Chat Noir?”

“Um… Poisson d’avril?” He ventured.

“Adrien.” She repeated sternly.

“Okay, fine, you got me.” Adrien huffed, raking a hand through his hair. “Please, don’t tell Ladybug.” He pleaded.

“Too late, I’m afraid.” She dug out her poisson-Ladybug and taped it to herself. She saw Adrien’s eyes grow as wide as his smile before being engulfed in a hug and feeling his lips on her forehead. “Kwami, we really might get together over an April Fool’s joke,” she muttered against his chest. If the heat she felt at the tip of her ears said anything, she probably was as red as Ladybug’s costume, and it probably wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?” Adrien pulled out a little from their hug to look at her.

“Nothing.” She smiled, and took his hand. “Now come on Chaton, we have some things to discuss, and we should probably go somewhere more private.”

“You know I’d follow you anywhere, my Lady.” He picked their entwined hands and kissed hers.

Really, she thought as they made their way towards her parents’ boulangerie, she loved poissons d’avril.

[pearl-blue-musings]

CAN I ORDER A MEDIUM WELL STEAK WITH FRENCH FRIES AND GREEN BEANS? WITH SOY SAUCE(sero)?? (ur sero angst made me tear up)

Hi yes of course I’m so sorry that angst made you cry 😭 but hopefully this will change those sad tears to happy tears!

To others with requests I’ll get to those! I wanted to do something not sex related cause that’s what most of the requests are 😅

Pairing: Sero Hanta x fem!reader there was just no way

Enjoy your meal~

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sero Hanta. Two semesters away from being a college graduate and applying his techniques from all his schooling into his pro hero work: soulmate-less. 

He remembers turning ten years old and seeing the magical red string on his pinky show up one day. The excitement he had at knowing he had a soulmate outmatched most of his friends at the time. He knew from his parents that little tugs on his pinky meant he and his soulmate were nearby and the tugs would increase, not to the point of pain, when they would finally meet.

He felt the first tug on his pinky a week or so after he got his string, telling him that there was indeed someone on the other end. But he never felt a tug after that. Sero didn’t let that shake him as he entered high school at UA. 

However, it did start to bother him greatly.

One by one, it seemed that almost everyone he met in his three years there found their soulmate in someway or another. Whether it was in class, at a festival, at an internship, or even on the job. Everyone had someone. Except him. 

Never him.

So by the time Hanta had turned 18, he had given up on his soulmate; the defeating blow coming after doing some late night pre-graduation research. 

Some people don’t even meet their soulmate

Sometimes if there hasn’t been any tugging for awhile, their soulmate could be dead and the string fades away.

Sometimes soulmates aren’t romantic and the person on the other side meets someone who isn’t their soulmate; very rare but it does happen.

He wanted to vomit. There’s no way they’re dead otherwise his string would have faded. But it might as well be that considering the odds of him meeting anyone new.  Sero exhales deeply as he shuts off his laptop and goes to bed. 

Although, there was a slight spark of hope in him when he decided to pursue his hero studies further before becoming a full fledged hero by applying to a hero university. However with his luck, it seems entirely unlikely. 

He slams his pillow over his head and tries to sleep away the sinking feeling at still feeling nothing on his pinky

***********

(Y/f/n). New hero law student at one of the best hero universities in the world and finished her undergrad early at the top of her class: soulmate-less.

She can remember the moment when she turned ten and that mysterious red string appeared on her pinky, feeling an immediate tug. It made her heart soar at the possibility of finding a love like her parents. However, her parents’ story wasn’t usual in the world of soulmates. 

Her mother’s original soulmate had died in a strange accident and she thought she would never love again. But then a couple months later a new purple string showed up and she found (Y/n)’s father. An unusual story but a lovely story nonetheless. She feared that her soulmate would die and she would have to suffer the same fate as her mother.

But no such color appeared, and tugs on her pinky were all but non existent. 

It was depressing for the budding young hero lawyer, but she knew what her goal in life was and that was to help heroes and civilians alike under the law. It’s not that she didn’t want to become a hero, but being a human lie detector she felt her quirk could be used to better society and help out the good people and put away the bad.

That’s why she knew she had to go to Japan, soulmate be damned! 

She knew of All Might, the notorious school U.A. and their students, along with the infamous League of Villains. Nothing like that happened where she was from so everything about that intrigued her. So naturally when applying to finish out her law degree, of course she’d choose a place where all the action was! She couldn’t wait to get her hands dirty. 

***********

With his final class of the day ending in the early afternoon, Sero left the lecture hall and went directly to the hero agency he’s been part timing at. Since he was still a college student, he couldn’t commit fully to being a hero so he took whatever patrol hours he could on top of the work he did (and don’t forget those smoke sessions to take off the load from school). He’s met with one of best friends from school, Kirishima, who also works at this agency established by his other best friend, Bakugou.

“You’re late, soy sauce face.”

“Sorry dude,” Sero chuckles, “couldn’t get on the early bus here.”

“Yeah yeah. Just get ready for patrol with Shitty Hair.” The ashy blond scoffs and walks off, returning to a phone call he was having.  Sero rolls his eyes as he heads to the locker room to change into his hero uniform, ignoring the twitching of his fingers. It’s still so weird how some people do and don’t recognize him at school as Cellophane. But that’s the way it has to be.

“Hey man, I don’t know if Bakugou told you this but we’re getting someone new.”

Sero pauses in putting on his hero outfit to look at the taller and buffer male. “Oh really? Another sidekick?”

“Actually no,” Kirishima beams, “some kind of lawyer type. It was decided after some hero managers and publicists were talking and the need for a hero lawyer, even one in training, would be good for us.”

“I totally get it,” Sero agrees, “considering Bakugou’s temper? Not surprised at all.” He finishes getting dressed and places his belongings in his locker. “So when are we meeting the unlucky bastard that has to look after us?”

“Either today or tomorrow. Either way, I think it’ll be great. You studied some hero law stuff, yeah?” Sero nods and the two men head out for patrol. “Maybe you two can talk and have something in common! You may never know.”

They turn the corner and begin on their way. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’m okay not having to meet my soulmate. I’ll just be single forever. It’s all good.” His fingers start to burn in a weird way but he shrugs it off.

The red head grunts, unconvinced. “Sure man. Whatever you say. Let’s hope patrol is relatively quiet, yeah?”

“Heh, when is it ever?”

*******

After getting settled into the apartment, you had gathered your belongings and hurriedly made your way to the nearest bus stop. You had your first meeting with the new agency you would be working at for hands on experience with hero law. It wasn’t necessary for your degree, but when you saw the opportunity arise, you grabbed it. 

Once aboard the bus, you sit down by the window and mentally go through your bag. You have your school credentials, any and all letters of recommendation, your resume and CV, plus a good head shot should they need it. You are on your way to meeting one of the rising heroes of Japan, Dynamight, at his agency. Since it’s a relatively popular agency filled with well known heroes, it makes sense that someone like you would be needed. You had wondered why they didn’t have someone who was already a certified and bar-passed lawyer, but you’re not going to complain. 

The bus ride went along pleasantly, not really looking at the people around you and focusing more on how to sell yourself to your upcoming clients. You’ve met with your advisor and she is letting you work with her firm via the hero agency. You’re pretty excited to say the least. However, the whole time you’ve been in Japan, a little over a week, you’ve been feeling that pull on your pinky.

Not wanting that to ruin your mood, or your bus ride, you ignore it and think it’s one of those rare phenomena where it’s moving wildly on its own. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn’t realized the bus had stopped moving and the passengers were all sitting closer to you. 

The poor bus driver shakes in fear and the two villains that have entered the bus, striking fear into the passengers. You spot the supposed leader who’s yelling into someone’s face when you gather your courage and stand up.

“Hey! Leave them alone, they’re not doing anything to you!”

Your loud voice caught the attention of the villains, one whose quirk has some sort of telekinesis as you feel your body being unknowingly brought toward the front of the bus.

The man has his face up close to yours and you can smell the nicotine on his breath, making you cough. “You got something to say to me little girl?” His cohort comes over to inspect you carefully, noting the money and jewelry they’ve already procured and you eye them sharply.

You cough in his face and continue, “yeah I do. What makes you think you can just come up in here and harass us?” You motion your back hand to the scared passengers to leave, remembering the doors in the back. You also didn’t know that the bus driver had already pinged for help from the nearby agency, alerting its patrolling heroes.

****** 

Both Sero and Kirishima feel their phones buzz with an alert. They look to each other and start heading toward the coordinates provided. There was a bit more sense of urgency to this for some reason that Sero can’t quite place. 

The closer they get, they see some fleeing civilians. Kirishima stops one and politely asks her what’s happened. 

“These two villains jumped on the bus and hurt the bus driver! They were stealing things until this young woman stood up to them. She told us all to leave but I’m not sure what’s happened to her!”

The two heroes nod and follow the direction of where the lady pointed. They run off toward it and stop a block away to assess the situation. Only a handful of cops are around as it has quickly turned into a hostage situation. The woman earlier was right, and that makes Sero’s heart race in fear. 

“I can sneak up to the side of the bus, head toward the back to check for an entrance.”

Kirishima hums and adds, “right, I can attack from the front, provide a distraction and if necessary close combat.” He breathes to collect himself, knowing they’ve done this a thousand times over. “Let’s do it.”

Sero nods and leaps into position. He takes his place on the side of the bus without alerting the villains or the hostage. The cool metal of the bus helps him to clear his mind and think carefully. His nerves must be getting to him because his fingers, more like his pinky, can’t stop twitching. He’s done this before, so why is this time different.

He almost gives up his position when he hears your voice.

“You’re just some low life petty criminals. I’m not too worried about you two.”

There it is. That little tell when you know you’ve got someone in your clutches. The mind based one seemed to falter and you knew he was going to act out in anger. And you were betting on it.

“Shut up stupid woman. You think I won’t do something to hurt you? Take you down a peg, huh? Because you look like you need to be tamed.”

Your time practicing cross-examining is paying off because that last statement terrified you. Villains are shameless and you know they’d have no problem defiling you in front of the police here; plus you were interrogating him. It got the people out and if you die saving some people then it would have all been worth it.

The two young heroes listening for the right moment give each other a look and both move in to do their parts. The loud red head getting the attention of the villains using his charm and personality to distract them while Sero sneaks into the bus, light on his feet to avoid detection.

Something in you sends shivers down your spine because you don’t even have to see him to know that he’s there. You, almost on instinct, duck down in order for Cellophane to apprehend both criminals and for Red Riot to keep them face down on the floor. You feel tape being wrapped around you and pulled toward the back, but the sensation should’ve come from your waist, not your pinky.

“Are you okay? That was extremely brave standing up to those guys and getting everyone out.”

His voice was unexpected but it drew you in, almost like it’s something you’ve been waiting for your whole life. The hero in question looks down at you and you feel him flinch. He takes off his helmet to get a good look at you and the moment seems to go on forever.

It’s not until you look down at your pinky’s is when it finally hits the two of you.

You had met the other end of your soulmate line. And there he is. His eyes go wide and you immediately get lost in their shape and shade. Is this the feeling your mother described when first meeting your soulmate? Magical? Indescribable? Gosh what is he feeling?

“You, you’re....”

“My soulmate...” you finish.

Sero hadn’t realized that he still had you wrapped in his tape from rescuing you but he doesn’t want to let you go. He spots the tears falling from your eyes and gently places his hand against your cheek and wipes them away. It’s like his hand was made for holding your face and he doesn’t want to let go. He wants to keep holding you like this because for so long, he had resided to being single but, you’re here and you’re real.

“Yo Cellophane, put your helmet on we’ve gotta talk to the police and- oh my god no way.”

The two of you are interrupted by Red Riot who had returned to check on his friend after he hadn’t come out with you, the hostage, yet. The two of you look to the buff man and then back at each other, and cute and embarrassed chuckle leaving your lips.

“I guess we should leave, I have to give a statement and all.”

“And get your injuries checked. Sorry if I pulled you too hard.”

“No no it’s fine! Uh, what’s your name?”

“Ah, uh, Cellophane. But my friends, and now you my soulmate mi amor, can call me Sero Hanta.”

He kisses your hand then and if you were in a courtroom you would’ve lost the case at the way your composure is failing you. It takes everything in you to not faint, because everything you had read was true about the first time you meet your soulmate. Out of this world. 

You’re brought back to reality, when a police officer comes in asking what the hold up was. You two were forced apart and Hanta reapplied his helmet. Even with it on, he can’t stop looking at you. And now that his soulmate is finally within arms reach he doesn’t plan on letting you go.

The four of you, including Red Riot and the cop, walk out of the bus. The cop directs his attention to you and gruffly asks. “So what were you doing on the bus? Why did you stand up for those civilians when you aren’t a hero?”

You looked at him incredulously. You understand he’s doing his job but what kind of question is that? “I was on my way to a meeting at Dynamight’s agency. I was preparing my reading notes as their knew hero lawyer and representative and I saw this happening! How was I supposed to stay back and do nothing?”

As the cop writes down some of your statement, the other two accompanying you are dumbstruck. “Wait, Kiri starts, “you’re our new lawyer?!”

Your eyes widen when you put two and two together. “No way, you work for him?”

Sero lights up, “work for him? We’ve been best friends since our days at U.A.! Who would’ve thought I would meet you today huh?”

You turn to him again, still shocked at the mere audacity of meeting your soulmate today, or ever. Stuck in a war with yourself, you reach out and tangle your fingers with his, just to have his touch once more. “I had given up on finding my soulmate,” you softly admit, afraid to meet his eyes.

He takes his helmet off again, away from prying eyes and focuses his attention on you. “So did I, corazon.” He had placed a hand onto your cheek like earlier and rubbed comforting circles on your soft skin. You hadn’t realized how close the two of you had gotten until he whispers, “May I?”

You nod, and gently lean into his kiss. If meeting each other was the appetizer, then kissing for the first time was like a meal and dessert. It was so chaste, yet so filled with emotions locked away that are now begging to be overflowed into the light. You two pull away, looks of awe and maybe love adorn you faces as you attempt to lean in again.

“I hate to break up the love fest,” Kirishima interrupts looking bashful. “But we’ve got some paperwork to fill out and all that so, we gotta go. And hey, we can take you to the agency after we’re done at the station, I’m sure Dynamight’s eager to meet you.”

Despite everything that had been happening, you had completely forgotten about your meeting, and hurry to call your new employer. You’re on the phone for only a couple minutes, but it gives Kirishima and Sero time to talk.

“So, who would’ve guessed you finally meet your soulmate today huh?”

“Yeah.”

“And I was right there too!”

“Si.”

“Are you listening to me?”

Hanta was listening, but was too busy looking at you and already thinking that he can’t wait to fall in love with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~