#started queuing posts so i can pretend to be asleep but no

[starrysilv3rse]

IM ALSO THINKING ABOUT ETHUBS I DIDNT KNOW THAT WAS POSSIBLE . THEYRE LIKE THREE BLORBOS REMOVED FROM ME but dbhc is rotating in my skull……. what’s wrong with them…. aaUAGHHHHH

nobody can talk to me ever again i’m thinking about dbhc

[bts-hyperfixation]

What do you think the boys would've done on their last nights with their significant others before joining the military?

Some of these are last nights, others are full days. Also only Taes has explicit smut mention, although most mention sex in some fashion

Please send me asks to keep me motivated while I'm off work! Thirsty thoughts, Most likely to, reactions, life updates, and general gibberish welcomed!!

Namjoon: 

I think Namjoon would've wanted a quiet night. He was probably stuck at work trying to finish plans on that Instagram account that's still posting and maybe fiddling with the album we know he started. But he would have tried his hardest to put it down and return home by nine to spend time with his loved one. His partner would be waiting for him with a simple takeaway on the table and maybe a TV show they had been watching together queued up. They'd stay cuddled on the couch for the longest time. They'd maybe fall around but not get anywhere (Something Namjoon regrets by day 3 in the barracks), maybe they intended to have sex one last time before he left but neither wanted to acknowledge it was actually the last time. He would talk about how this was ridiculous, it's not like they'd be 18 months without one another, just a couple of months at a time is all... And then he'd get sad and introspective. They'd fall asleep on the sofa because going to bed would bring their last night to an end and Namjoon doesn't want to willingly relinquish that time. 

Seokjin: 

I think he hired out a restaurant he and his partner like, maybe even their first date restaurant. The partner actually panicked that Jin was going to propose the night before he left and was ready to yell at him if he pulled out a ring. Jin sets up multiple proposal cliches throughout the evening giving his partner a heart attack each time while he acts nonchalant about it, pretending he doesn't know why they are getting worked up. This is stuff like a jewellery box on the table (It's a necklace), A gem in the champagne (It's tiny ice), He kneels by the table (and ties his shoe). They take a long walk by the river after dinner, his partner increasingly exasperated but still very fond. He finally does pull out a ring, but he insists it's only a promise ring and the real ring will be given to them on June 14th 2024 (Doesn't want to share the anniversary). The evening probably ended with some very slow, heavy eye-contact, love-making

Yoongi:

Disclaimer - I'm not 100% sure if Yoongi had to go anywhere for any length of time... but this is written as if he were doing the same as the other boys. 

He cooked dinner, something he is gonna claim is simple, but he took all day to make it. He also lay the table with a white tablecloth, dimmed all the lights and set out candles. Flower petals lead you through different stations of the apartment. First appetizers and cocktails on the sofa so his partner can talk about their day, then to the table for the main course, to the bathroom where bubbly and strawberries await next to a warm bath for two, and finally to bed for dessert. Which actually meant dessert, there's a snack platter of sweets in the centre of the bedspread and a movie queued up on the TV. the movie wasn't really watched... but the thought was there.

Hoseok: 

I feel like Hobi made an entire day out of it, he set aside time to make sure he only had his significant other to focus on and made sure his SO did the same so they were uninterrupted. Then he locked them into their apartment, only opening the door to bring in food deliveries. The day starts with lazy morning sex. Then breakfast. Then lazy shower sex. Then maybe some TV time, where his hands remain firmly on his partner as if they are going to disappear the second he lets them go. The SO convinces him to go for a walk at lunchtime, they hold hands the entire time. Hoseok has them sit in his lap when they return home. Just wants to be permanently close. The third round of sex is definitely more driven, like he has a point to prove and doesn't want his SO to forget what exactly it is they are going to be waiting so patiently for. 

Jimin: 

Jimin took his SO back to his home town a couple of days before. Maybe spent some time with his family in Busan, had a very nostalgic craving for his parents cooking and took his SO along for the ride. They do stuff he liked to do as a kid, visiting places that he wouldn't be easily recognised. He's anxious, and jumpy, and clingy a lot of the time. He keeps asking his partner if they are going to be okay when really it's his own insecurity. Jimin had someone drive them in a nice car back to Seoul in the early afternoon so they had the evening together, they probably fooled around in the car as he tried to keep himself occupied. He let them hold his hand while he had his head shaved, needing the familiar reassurance. He took a break to show Army his hair, but the SO is hiding behind the camera. Then the evening is spent quietly, wrapped together to enforce the fact that they aren't going anywhere.

Taehyung: 

He came up with so many different plans for what he wanted to do that by the time the day came around he hadn't actually implemented any of them. And sure he is Taehyung of BTS, if he had made a couple last minute phonecalls he could have made anything happen but he decides the lack of plans is exactly what was meant to be. He runs on pure unplanned whims and ends up taking his SO to absolutely anywhere that pops into his mind in the most chaotic fashion. They go to the movies (Something everyone's already seen so no one else is there) (they may spend most of it making out in the back). They go to an arcade (An old buddy of Tae's owns it and makes sure they get an hour uninterrupted). They eat lunch at the SO's favourite restaurant. Eventually, they go home and Taehyung spends hours between his lover's thighs, trying to immortalise the taste of them in his brain before he no longer has the access he so desperately craves. They probably also have a lot of sex. He falls asleep insisting on cockwarming, convincing his partner the UTI will be worth it with the Tata mic face. 

Jungkook:

It takes a while for his SO to convince him to do anything at all because "What's wrong with in my arms in my bed forever?" (And he's right, nothing wrong with that and if his SO don't want it I volunteer). He convinced them to snuggle back down with him at least three times until lunch rolled around and they insisted he get up with them to go somewhere. They never end up leaving the house. Every time his SO goes to put on a shirt, Jungkook grabs it and throws it somewhere it can't be easily recovered. There was one in the sink with the dirty dishes, one mixed with the already dirty laundry, and another hanging from a light fixture they would both need a ladder to reach. Eventually, the SO has to relent because they won't have any shirts to say goodbye in the following day. So they succumb to his wishes (Although they make him go out to fetch food first). He holds on to them possessively throughout the day, pulling as much of them against him as is reasonable at any given time. I fully believe Jungkook would crawl into the skin of an SO if he thought it was possible. 

[uwuwriting]

How the boys SIMP! w/ Bakugou, Kaminari and Todoroki

Request: I got like five requests about several of our favorite boys simping over their girlfriend so yeah, here we are. 

Hi I’m not dead, yet at least. I;m starting to believe that my brain will turn to goo after all the chemistry and biology I’ve been studying. Sorry for not posting, my tumblr decided to be a dick and deleted my queued posts so haha yeah. Anyways my posts won’t be as regural as they used to because school....kill me. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: SIMPING

Bakugou Katsuki

-Okay he is rather subtle with his simping. 

-He won’t straight up kiss the ground you walk on. 

-BUT he will be kinder and a little softer. 

-Maybe sometimes to the point others notice and it’s not a good look on him. 

-Or at least that’s what he believes. 

- “I have a reputation to keep, baby.”

-That was said behind closed doors at 3 am on the rare occassion he stayed past his bed time. 

-And yes he will ignore his bedtime for you. 

-One of his simping tactics. 

-He will cook for you, he will pretend that he’s annoyed that you aren’t eating well enough or healthy.

-So he becomes mama Bakugou and starts cooking for you.

-Bento boxes for school, snacks while you are studying, dinner and breakfast.

-He will teach you how to cook some dishes for when he is not here and you get hungry. 

- “We’re doing your favorite.”

- “Aww Katsuki, you know my favorite.”

- “Shut up dumbass and pay attention.”

-Speaks rather softly after a while, showing you how to correctly cut the ingredients and how to stir the mix without making a mess. 

-He will just leen on the counter and watch you add all the ingredients with that little concentrated pout on your lips. 

-His heart goes oops. 

-He will be so engrossed with your beauty that you’ll have to give him a small shake when you need him. 

-Pretends to enjoy what you’ve made if you messed it up somehow but will give you honest feed back and advice so you make something edible next time.

-You tend to spend the night at his dorm and he loves it. 

-It’s usually on accident.

-You cuddle him while he goes to sleep and your plan is to get up and leave once you have taken your fill. 

-But he is warm and oh so cuddly that you fall asleep as well. 

-He wakes up around ten o’clock everytime to make sure you left and when he still feels you next to him he just lets out the most genuine smile. 

-He will pull you flush to his chest *if you are not already* and take in your scent saying a little I love you before going back to sleep. 

-The next morning he will wake you up before anyone else gets up and walks you to your room. 

-Thankfully you are on the same floor so you don’t have to go far. 

-He always walks with you to and from class no matter his mood.

-He monitors his tone when he can help it and will warn you when his mood is really awful. 

-In general it’s the little things with him not grand gestures and all out simping. 

Kaminari Denki

-Worships the ground you walk on. 

-All out simping no shame. 

-He will straight up give his soul for you. 

-And he is rather proud of that fact. 

-The polar opposite of Bakugou. 

-And he can get on everyone’s nerves with his simping. 

-Picks you up form your dorm room every morning, carries your bag to class and opens every single door you come across.

-Gives you his food if you show the slightest of interest in his meal. 

- “Denki I just want a bite.”

- “I CAN GET ANOTHER ONE BABY!”

-Calm down sir....calm down. 

-Has canceled game night because you had period cramps. 

-The thing with that is you never actually asked him to come cuddle or something you just mentioned that you were heading to Recovery Girl for some pain killers. 

-Man was waiting you at her office in -0.5 seconds. 

- “I thought you were playing COD.”

- “I canceled.”

- “YOu wHAt?”

-Bakugou legit thinks you are the reason Kaminari keeps blowing them off. 

-That you are some type of overly clingy girlfriend. 

-DENKI IS AN OVERLY CLINGY GIRLFRIEND. 

-Has gone off on a russian dude because while you were playing COD together he said something about girls being really bad at video games. 

-Your man almost got banned.

-He skips class if you’re sick which is rather sweet but simultaneously really really dumb. 

-Aizawa is coming fro his ass in 3....2....1.

-Boy didn’t even reach your door. 

-You just heard your boyfriend’s girlish screams coming from down the hall followed by pleads of mercy. 

-You were -><- this close to going out there to see what was going on but then you heard Aizawa’s monotonous voice and just went back to sleep.

-He later came over and narrated his traumatic experience. 

-Poor baby just wanted to take care of you.

Todoroki Shouto

-He’s a mix of Bakugou and Denki.

-He likes being subtle and showering with affection behind closed doors but also will be at your beck and call. 

-In your or his room he likes to hold you close like really really close.

-Oh you are studying?

-Will just hug you from behind.

-You are watching something on Netflix?

-Will rest his head on your shoulder. 

-You do the same really because he is a very very touch starved baby and he needs more love. 

-He Likes to bring you food that Fuyumi makes. 

-He visits his sister on the regural so he always or almost always comes back with a small bento box with your name on it in Fuyumis delicate writing.

-Fuyumi loves you and she knows what a simp her baby brother is for you.

-In public he isn’t on Denki’s level.

-Yeah sure he will open the door for you.

-Sure he might ignore everyone else and only answer to you. 

-But that doesn’t make him an immediate simp.

-No no.

-What makes him a simp is the way he treats you during free period. 

-Clingy boy to the fullest.

-And a bonus, will do anything you ask. 

-You are doing a project and you need to test something in extreme heats? He has laready rolled up his sleeve.

-You are thirsty from studying? He is already on his way to buy you a water bottle. 

-He’s more of a protective simp.

-Considering who his father is he really gets protective over you whenever he is around. 

-Also doesn’t like training with you because he doesn’t want to accidently hurt you. 

-The last simp characteristic of his is drum roll......

-Your sleeping schedule. 

-It’s fucked up basically.

-You tend to study until you pass out in his room and he will always carry your to your dorm unless you tell him otherwise. 

-Will risk detention for being out past curfew just to get you to your room. 

-I LOVE HIM!

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​  @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @bemorefiction​ @dnarez-mangetsu​

[imafraidof-thedark]

okay jerk i’ve never met before i expect some pure lunor shit specifically with TMS weekly movie night

hello, bitch, who i obviously haven’t met! here’s some lunor/habby and TMS movie night! hope it’s substantial 

also i can make a tag list if anyone is interested in being tagged when i post more, so comment/dm if you want to be added to the tag list. 

additionally, i’ll most likely be writing more ayaotd fics after that, so, you can send me an ask with a prompt to write for

READ ON AO3

“Just start without me. I have to do my homework,” Connor said, looking up at Luke, who had just walked in telling him that they were starting the movie soon. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” asked Connor.

“I mean, no,” Luke restated, climbing onto Connor’s bed and closing his laptop, moving it away from him. Luke climbed over Connor and stretched out over his body, leaning into his arms. Connor snaked his arms around Luke’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his temple, threading his fingers through Luke’s hair.

“I guess I can do my homework later,” he murmured, and Luke smiled, pushing himself up slightly to kiss Connor’s cheek. Connor moved his hand down to Luke’s face, and cupping his cheek, kissed his lips.

“Thanks, Con,” Luke replied in between kisses, blushing slightly. 

“‘Course,” Connor said, “anything for my angel.”

“Soooo,” Hanna said down in the living room, tucking her foot under her and sitting down on the couch. “What are we watching tonight?”

“Connor said IT one,” Gabby said, from her spot on the floor in front of Hanna, next to Jai. 

Hanna crossed her arms. “Who is currently not here,” she said under her breath.

Jai snorted. “He’s probably in the kitchen making out with his boyfriend.”

“Jai!” Hanna exclaimed hitting him with a pillow.

“Am I wrong?” he asked.

Gabby gave a noncommittal jerk of her head. “He’s most likely not wrong.”

“Gabby! Not you too!” Hanna groaned. 

“Hanna, you can’t say that there hasn’t been something else since Luke ‘gripped him tight and raised him from perdition,’” Jai said, making finger quotes in the air. 

“Jai-” Hanna started but broke off as the door opened and Connor and Luke walked in. 

“Speak of the devil,” Jai smirked.

Hanna rolled her eyes and Gabby laughed lightly. 

“Whatchya talking about?” Luke asked, walking over to sit in the corner of the couch. Connor followed close behind with a bowl of popcorn.

“Nothing,” Gabby said quickly. 

“Okay,” Luke said skeptically as Jai stretched out his arms, reaching for the popcorn bowl. Connor handed it to him, then sat down in between Luke and Hanna. 

“‘S it queued up?” he asked and no one spoke. “Seriously?” Sighing, he got up and turned on the tv in his living room.

“Sorry that we don’t know how to work the tv,” Jai replied and Connor just rolled his eyes, pulling the disc of the first IT movie out of the tv stand. “And where the disc was,” Jai added as Connor turned on the tv and put the disk into the player.

“It’s not like you’ve been over to my house a million times, Jai.”

Luke put his arm up on the side of the couch and said, “he hasn’t. He’d be talking with Seth while we’re hanging out.”

“Okay, the funky dude isn’t that bad,” Jai protested.

“No, he’s that bad,” Hanna said. Jai shrugged and shoveled popcorn into his mouth while Connor took his spot again, Luke’s arm shifting closer to him as he clicked play and the opening scene started up, with the volume high enough to drown out almost any other noise.

“I’m thinking it might’ve been a bad idea to watch IT after the Shadowman,” Gabby said, 30 minutes into the movie. She’d migrated to the couch now, and she and Hanna were both under a blanket, and Jai had piled pillows on the floor and was lounging across them. 

From the opposite side of the couch, Connor, who had his head resting on Luke’s shoulder, spoke. “Yeah, probably. Bad planning on my part.”

“Or maybe it was just a ploy to get me to hold you,” Luke whispered into Connor’s ear, careful not to let the others hear. 

Connor smiled, blushing slightly, and looked up at Luke. “You look really cute when you do that, too,” Luke added.“Shut up,” he muttered, but moved closer into Luke’s side anyway, and The Midnight Society (minus Seth) sat in silence for a few more minutes before someone spoke. “We’re out of popcorn,” Jai said, lifting the empty bowl above his head. Connor flicked his eyes over to where Jai was.

“We’ll make it,” Hanna announced, grabbing the bowl from Jai and standing up. “C’mon.” She motioned with her hand. Gabby blinked and looked around in confusion, but stood up and followed Hanna. “And you can keep watching the movie,” Hanna added as she held the door to the hallway open for Gabby.

Gabby yawned as she walked over to the counter where the Stevens’ air popper and popcorn kernels were already out from the last batch. It was when Gabby had measured out the kernels and started the machine that Hanna finally spoke. “Gabby?” she asked hesitantly.

“Hm?”

“I have something to tell you,” Hanna said, wringing her hands nervously. Gabby turned around to look at her and jumped up onto the countertop. “I’m listening,” she replied when Hanna didn’t speak. 

“What? Oh, yeah.” Hanna rubbed her eyes. “Gabby? I like you. Like, romantically like you. Like, like, you,” she confessed, starting to pace. “And I get that you might not be okay with that, which is fine, I guess, and I won’t mention this again if that’s the case and we can pretend this never happened, cause I still want to be your friend, even if I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Hanna.”

“Yes?” Hanna asked apprehensively, stopping in front of Gabby.

Gabby smiled. “I like you too. Like, like, you.”

Hanna immediately felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. “You do?” Her voice came out breathless and strained. 

“I do,” Gabby assured, reaching an arm out to Hanna. Hanna stepped forward shakily, then again, and again, until she was right in front of Gabby. She could smell Gabby’s flowery scent that accompanied her everywhere; the cherry chapstick on her lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” Gabby whispered, which Hanna still heard over her frantic pulse and the air popper in the background. She nodded and Gabby leaned in slowly. 

When their lips met, Hanna felt the whole world disappear. It was only her and Gabby. She felt Gabby pull her closer and she unconsciously leaned in and deepened the kiss, her arms moving around Gabby’s waist. 

Meanwhile, Gabby moved her hands up Hanna’s arms to her face to touch Hanna’s cheeks gently, her ankles hooked together behind Hanna’s legs. 

They finally broke apart after the first couple of popcorn kernels popped. Gabby leaned down and touched her forehead to Hanna’s, both of them smiling breathlessly.

“So you really like me?” Hanna asked.“Yes, I really like you,” Gabby responded, tucking a strand of Hanna’s hair behind her ear. Hanna smiled and kissed Gabby again. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” Gabby repeated, pulling Hanna in for a hug, only letting go when they heard the popcorn stop popping. Hanna pulled away, placing a chaste kiss on Gabby’s lips, then walked to turn off the air popper.

“Jai will want salt and butter,” Gabby told Hanna. 

“Well,” Hanna stated, grabbing the salt, “sucks for him, cause he’s just having salt.”Gabby grinned as Hanna shook the salt over the popcorn, then shook the bowl lightly. “Ready?” Hanna asked, holding her hand out for Gabby to take.

“What are we gonna tell the rest of the Midnight Society?” Gabby asked quietly. 

Hanna lowered her hand. “We can decide tomorrow. They don’t need to know yet if you’re not ready. That okay?”

Gabby nodded.

“And besides,” Hanna continued, “they’re all fine with my moms, anyway.”

Gabby nodded and Hanna held out her hand again. This time, Gabby took it, smiling, and hopped off the counter. 

“Thank you,” Jai drew out when Hanna handed him the bowl, and Hanna nodded in return, settling down on the couch with Gabby. Hanna opened her arms and Gabby leaned into her chest. 

“You know, I think if the Losers were actually smart, they wouldn’t run to try and stop IT,” Jai said, holding his arm up vertically. “I mean like, Pennywise was gonna take them anyway most likely. It’s kinda useless.”

“Jai, you do realize what we did when Connor was missing, right?” Hanna asked incredulously. 

“Well yeah. But that’s cause we had a friend missing.”

There was an awkward silence. “Jai, Georgie was missing. He’s Bill’s brother,” Luke deadpanned. 

Jai blinked. “Yeah okay, I see your point.”

The rest of the movie passed relatively smoothly, Gabby falling asleep first, two-thirds of the way through the movie, her head resting on Hanna’s shoulder. Hanna fell asleep 10 minutes after that, and then Jai during the last scene in the field. 

“That was fun,” Luke whispered at 1:30 am when the movie ended and the credits started. 

“Yeah,” Connor whispered back, neither of them bothering to get up and turn the tv off just yet. 

“Watching this movie makes me realize how glad I am to have you back,” Luke told Connor, running his hands through Connor’s hair and then kissing his hairline. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Connor replied, and they fell into an easy silence. When the credits finally stopped, Connor reluctantly pulled away from Luke.

“Where are you going?” Luke whined, flopping on the couch, reaching for Connor.

“I have to put away the disk and turn off the tv,” Connor answered, bending down and taking the remote from Jai’s hand, then clicking the tv off. “But we can go to my room after.”

“Oh, okay,” Luke said, standing up and waiting in the doorway. When they left the room, they didn’t have to turn off the lights. All the members of the Midnight Society now had strings of lights hung up around their houses, and Connor’s living room was no different—there was a string of white Christmas lights around the room, and the actual lights had been off for a while. 

It was nearing 4 am when the sky had started lightening in the summer morning that Luke and Connor were both laying in Connor’s bed finally trying to sleep. Their legs were intertwined and they were both laying on their sides, facing each other. “I’m really glad you’re my boyfriend, angel,” Connor whispered.

“I’m super glad you’re my boyfriend, too, Con,” Luke whispered back, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Connor’s face, then kissing him again. With that, they both drifted off into a peaceful sleep in each others’ arms.

[night-dragon937]

I need to share my experience from a few hours ago (writing this at 2 am aug 24 2020) yesterday but first I'm going to slap a huge tw: abuse, Christianity/gay stuff, anxiety attacks, and yelling/screaming, transphobia/homophobia, self harm/cutting and a lot of cussing/swearing onto this. Like this is deeply religious and I'd rather not have discourse on my beliefs.

That should cover it...

Okay so it started out fine, my mom and i were just talking. She was drunk, and attempting to convince me that my asexuality meant that i was straight... But since she was drunk, I'mma give her that. There was a lot of aphobia but that's not what this is about She started telling me about her experience, and best i can describe it, she's a closeted demisexual biromantic lady with a preference for girls and a shit ton of internalized homophobia ("being sexually attracted to women's bodies more than men's doesn't make me lesbian, I'm still straight")

It was a mostly civil conversation, but it was adding onto my bad feelings from my dad the past several weeks making snide hurtful remarks about our religion and my sexuality and gender. Also using the f-slur against me when i had explained to him in the past how badly that word hurts me, to which he apologized profusely and said he'd never have used that word if he knew how it affected me. Obviously a lie, because he's still using it with full knowledge of the effects.

Back to my mom. She started getting into the religious side of it, but we managed to keep it civil, until the very end when she said she'd be praying for me and i said I'd be praying to help figure out who exactly i am, and she remarked "make sure you're praying to the right person" with a really threatening tone to her voice. At that point, i lost it, let her know that her saying that made me want to go back to cutting (in case she wasn't aware) and said that i needed a moment alone (or something along those lines, i was thrown head first into an anxiety attack and can't quite remember very well).

I ran upstairs as she tried to grab me and pull me back, but i managed to make it to my room. I went into a fetal position, because safe, but she came in and all i remember is her screaming repeating some question, i think, at me, me not being able to breathe, her hands squeezing my wrists way too tight, my wrist pinned to the carpet with her knee, the other with her hand as she tried to grab my jaw and force me to look at her.

Her touching me made the attack worse (hours later i still have marks and scratches) and i couldn't talk, think, or breathe. Somehow i was able to choke out repeated pleas for her to stop touching me because it was making everything worse. I don't know how long that lasted. But at some point she stopped grabbing me and just placed her hands on me and started praying in tongues. Like i was fucking demon possessed. Because i had an anxiety attack. Which my parents have been triggering in me for as long as i can remember.

I managed to sit up and get her to stop touching me, but she refused to be less than a foot away from me, even though i was going through a sensory overload and needed personal space. She finally trapped me into a corner of my room and put her arms on either side of me, one of them holding the door closed. She was screaming in my face and i was yelling over her, asking her to give me personal space and stop being so loud so that i could calm down, which she refused. I ended up very trapped and very uncomfortable and doing my best to not have another anxiety attack while replying to the most outlandish of her accusations, but mostly keeping my mouth shut in an attempt to get her to do the same.

She kept using my deadname, like usual, but it was worse for me for some reason at this point. I mentioned that and got yelled at more. I mentioned her pinning my wrists to the ground and got called a liar and she tried to make it so that i couldn't leave and grab a Kleenex until i admitted she was right and that i pinned myself to the ground (???). So i just started describing what i remembered until she got sick of it and let me go wipe my nose. She must have closed my door when she first came in. My dad (stepdad) was standing outside the door, eavesdropping, apparently.

I got a Kleenex but then my mom started yelling at me again, but i mostly just pretended to listen because i didn't want to have another anxiety attack. My dad started piping in and making me feel so much worse. He ended with saying "you're not a Christian. You don't believe in God. Even the devil believes in God." (Implying that I'm worse than the devil). At which point i started breaking down crying. And then i ran outside to have another anxiety attack but this time my mom just stood on the porch because the grass was wet and she was barefoot, but i curled up under the stars for who knows how long as i forced myself to do breathing techniques, and stim by rubbing the wet grass, which really helped ground me.

I went back inside when i was feeling better and got a drink of water and a Kleenex. And they started telling me how much they loved me and that i might not see it, but they were doing this out of love, because they were concerned for my eternity. I kept pointing out things they were doing that hurt me and better ways to do it (constructive criticism, so they know what's bad for me) and they repeatedly told me how much worse they could make it for me and that i should be glad they didn't make it worse. I pointed out that this didn't make their actions better and they said "doesn't make them wrong, either." Which ????? Victim blaming, abuse, what?

I brought up the times I've cried out to God for answers and the few times He's responded, (refusing my request for Him to kill me, telling me I'm not going to Hell for being gay/queer) bc they kept bringing up a few dubiously translated verses of the Bible and they told me that i was listening to the wrong person. That i was worshipping the wrong one. They heavily implied that i pray and worship the devil (disclaimer: i don't judge those who do, that's your life, I'm not gonna try and decide it for you, also i can admit that the church of Satan makes valid points and treats people right, from what I've seen, this is just a huge insult for them to throw at me specifically because of what I've been taught my whole life). Also invalidating my whole experience just because they don't like it.

They keep bringing up me being involved in the community (following queer people on social media, having one queer shirt, going to gsa-which they told me I'm not allowed to be a part of anymore-, having queer friends) as me seeking validation and attention, and that i shouldn't need validation and it shouldn't be about validation if I really think that this is who i am. Aka, because i am human and seek human things, i must be a total fake and fraud about all I've told them (very little). Meanwhile they do the exact same thing with their friends and social media and each other and everything.

My dad kept piping up with totally unrelated, totally unhelpful comments and tangents while my mom recited the same 5 min spiel for at least half an hour. My dad was saying how my grandparents aren't actually Christians because they agree with me that the world isn't black and white and there are some shades of gray, and because they believe once saved, always saved. That there is nothing you can do, as an imperfect human, to remove yourself from the infinite and unconscious love of God. (... I can't believe he fucking believes that humans have the ability to overrule God because it makes it easier for him to blame and condemn people he sees...)

These are the grandparents who have loved me regardless of my sexuality and gender, even tho they don't agree, and made me feel loved and gave me a place to go when i need to escape from my parents. They're the reason I'm keeping my mom's maiden name (since it hasn't been legally changed) because it's their last name, and it's them i want to honor, not my abusive shitty hateful stepdad. Unfortunately they are moving into assisted living because my papa is in a wheelchair, so i can't move in with them.

He ended that tangent with repeatedly telling me that i was not saved. That i was not a Christian. That i didn't believe in God. And that i was going to Hell. Repeatedly.

My mom made me hug her and made me tell her i love her. I ended up exercising to stop myself from becoming suicidal. I don't know if I'll tell anyone irl apart from the one irl friend i have on here. I'm not sure if I'm going to tell my therapist or not. I reached out to two of my christian friends after everything but they were both asleep. I needed to write this all down and put it somewhere public, just to be safe. I'm not safe in my own home and i can't move out because I'm a. Under 18 and b. Broke as hell

There was a lot more that happened, this lasted several hours, but i honestly can't remember all of the details besides what i typed out. Anyway so yeah i kinda wish i were dead but i also wanna stay alive for spite and show them that i can be a fabulous queer Christian and that the world is colorful, and you can't reduce that to monochrome and expect to have an even partially accurate view of the world. I want to help others like me, and help them feel better about myself.

I'm setting this as a queue so that if my parents take my phone away, they can't stop me from posting it (they have no clue how to look at queued posts) and also so that i can go to bed now and look at it again later and edit it

[revengeisalwaysanoption]

FICS: PROPOSTE INDECENTI + AMO GIA’ IL FINALE

I posted these on AO3 back in January. And I really wanted to have something brand new for today, but I am trying as hard as I can to have the fairy tale AU finished by tomorrow, so... Hope you’ll like them! They are BOTH IN ENGLISH ;) !!

PROPOSTE INDECENTI Seconds  

10 - 9

The longest ten seconds of his whole fucking life. Maybe Niccolò really is considering turning it down, given the time and setting.

3 a.m. McDonald's. Sitting on plastic chairs. Lazily eating cold fries and a hamburger that tastes like cardboard with one hand, stroking each other's thumbs with the other. Feeling like the last men on Earth, in a deserted place that would normally be buzzing with life in the daytime.

He should have sticked to his plan, given him his scripted speech this Sunday at the Bioparco. But he didn't, and now...

 8-7

… now he's screwed, isn't he? He fucked it up, and Niccolò is going to carry on and pretend this has been nothing but a bad dream.

He couldn't help it, though. Not when Niccolò was glowing with pride and elation as he showed Martino his first - published, finally!! - illustrated book.

The one Nico had lovingly renamed 'our baby' - and damn if Marti's heart didn't skip a beat at that -  even though all he didn't do much but offer his moral support.

How was he supposed to resist?

 6-5

He looked more beautiful than ever, in an old tracksuit and with a ridiculous headband holding his wild curls at bay. Buzzing with enthusiasm, while he told Marti about how Naima the giraffe who had her head too high in the clouds learnt from Mabel the red panda that she shouldn't fear what's in her heart. That her feelings are never too much, like so many others have been telling her.

Niccolò had always been very secretive about the plot, saying 'It's a surprise' with a mischievous glint in his eyes whenever Martino asked for more details… and right in that very moment he could see why.

"Children emotions tends to be heightened, and therefore often dismissed. I hope this can tell them that they matter, you know? That they're gonna find someone willing to listen, someday. Just like I found you."

It was their story. Edited, tweaked but still the same at its core. Shared to offer some hope to whoever might need it.

How could he not stop Niccolò right there and fumble for the box in his bag?

 4-3

Flinging it into his hands and dropping on one knee felt too predictable and cheap, however.

"I… I think I'm gonna get a milkshake. Would you like me to get you anything? An ice-cream cone? A Flurry?" Then, raising a voice a couple of octaves to make it sound childlike he adds "A Happy Meal?"

"Ahah. You're so funny, have you ever considered a career as a stand-up comedian? Get me a Happy Meal, you ass." And he would have sucked on that raised middle finger, without any shame, had it been a night like any other.

But it wasn't.

 2

Niccolò kept on gloating, until he opened the Happy Meal. His face fell, indeed, when he found the giraffe and red panda wooden figurines connected through a red silk thread and carrying a ring.

Ebony black, like his hair. Adorned with amber and aventurine, which both reminded Martino of his eyes.

Eyes which were now boring into him with a mixture of confusion and… disappointment?

Not exactly the reaction he had been wishing for. The silence between them felt a bit uncomfortable, for the first time in maybe ever, but Martino forced himself to speak.

"I know that I told you, so many times and in so many ways, that nobody knows a fucking thing about what's gonna happen tomorrow but... I am certain about ONE thing and ONE thing only: that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, as your HUSBAND. Don't you wanna spend the rest of your life with me?"

"That's two things, Marti. Maybe even three. I believe so… but let me just have ten seconds to think it through, okay?"

 1

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. " He finally says. Each yes said before a kiss, his smile getting brighter and brighter as they both start crying. Tears they brush away with gentle fingertips, with soft lips.

"A thousand times yes, Marti." Niccolò reiterates, resting his forehead against his fiancé's. Not an old fashioned to say 'boyfriend' when you significant one is not exactly a boy anymore, but the real deal now.

Fiancé. Betrothed. Soon to be husband. He can't wait to refer to Martino using those term with friends, colleagues, guests, relatives. With all those random people he ends up talking to while queuing up at the post office - on the bus, on the train, on the subway. The whole world needs to know, and he is certain that Marti feels like the same.

"Once is more than enough."

-----------

   Minutes  

It still doesn’t feel real, even though he has had some minutes to let it sink in. Despite the weight of the ring dangling from his necklace - "how very Frodo of you…" "Are you calling your future husband a fucking hobbit, Mr Rametta?" - and his proposal still echoing in his ears, he fears he might wake up any minute now. Alone.

He has to take refuge in Marti’s arms, grounding himself in his warm and tight embrace. Nothing can touch him, when he’s there. Nothing can reach him, apart from Martino’s smell and the palpable solidity of his body.

"I can take it back, if you’d like." Marti mumbles, against his helix piercing.

"Don’t you dare!" Niccolò protests, first jabbing his ribs with his forefinger and then flicking his nose.

"I mean… you don't sound positively thrilled about it…" He points out, puzzled to hear Niccolò chuckle.

"Well, we're talking about spending the rest of my life with the most boring gay I've ever met…" Nico sighs dramatically, but then he gets dreadfully serious. He is so overjoyed, so full of love he could burst, and Martino better not end up thinking otherwise. "I couldn't be happier… You know that, right? I simply wanted to be the one to propose."

"Well, maybe you still can. Fifteen or twenty years from now, when we'll feel like renewing our vows or some shit…" Martino suggests, standing up and cleaning their table. They must go now, if they want to have some time left to spare to celebrate home before heading out again to work.

"Sounds lovely. You have such a way with words, Marti." Niccolò shoves him playfully, but files that piece of information into a secured corner of his brain. Might come in handy, in the future. "And how do you know about renewals, anyway? Don't tell me you've been bingewatching 'Say Yes To The Dress' on RealTime!"

"Whaaat? Me? Nope. Never. Must have heard something from Filo. Or was it Edo?"

*************

AMO GIA’ IL FINALE

Hours  

Hours have gone by. It took them twice longer than usual to reach their flat, unable to walk more than a few steps without stopping for a quick peck. Or a full on make out session against a couple of closed, sturdy, doors.

Clothes were discarded on the floor as soon as they stepped inside, and they had made love until dawn. Exhausted, by then, they had fallen asleep.

Fear has had time to come knocking, and with it the painful reminder that people always leave. Or get sick of each other, and stay together only to keep up appearances.

No. That's not gonna happen. Not to them. Not when they are perfectly aware that gonna have to make a promise to each other not only on that day… but every second, every minute, every hour they spend together. Or apart.

Not necessarily with words. Which little gestures, too. Cherish their love. Never take it for granted.

"I promise you that we can make it. From now, to infinity." Martino says, softly, as he lays a kiss on Niccolò chest. Right where his heart is, just like Nico did so many years before under those red lights.

"To infinity and beyond."

"Don't start quoting Toy Story when I'm trying to be deep, Ni."

"It doesn't suit you. Now, up up up. Put something on and come with me... I don't want to miss watching the sunrise and cuddling with my betrothed on my cozy balcony."

"You are unbelievable."

"And you love that."

"I sure do, don't I?"

   Imagination  

This is absolutely not what Niccolò or Martino had in mind.

The unnecessary opulence, the stifling atmosphere in spite of the marvelous outdoor venue.

"It's not like you had a clear picture of what you wanted, anyway." Anyone would argue, and they would be right.

It had been easy enough to picture it back in Milan, where having a wedding in their birthday suits had sounded like the coolest idea he had ever had… But now Nico can't really see how that would go down, can't imagine it wouldn't be a complete catastrophe.

Like any other scenario they came up with. Some are too over the top, and would make Martino feel uncomfortable. Some are too dull, and would be an ill match to Niccolò's eccentricity.

Someone had to take the matter into their hands, and it wasn't like Silvia had done a bad job with the very little input she had from the grooms.

Maybe they could settle for this?

***************

   Instinct  

Or maybe not.

Martino refused to make this day, their day, about anyone else but themselves.

His in-laws were probably going to hate him for this, as firm believers of a time and a place for spontaneity, and their own friends were surely going to hold it against them for the next fifty years or so… but who cared?

Not him. Not when he was witnessing the first real smile of the week from Niccolò, merely by showing up on his old bike.

"Get on." It took him some fumbling, since a tight fitting tuxedo wasn't really the best attire for riding a bike, but eventually he managed to sit comfortably behind Martino.

"Where are we going?" He asked, presuming to be filled in about Marti's plan for the next few hours.

"Wherever the fuck we want." Martino said, instead, refusing to tell Niccolò anything concerning their destination. Or what they would do, once they reached it.

It didn't take too long to get to a church that Niccolò knew all too well. He had often joked about getting married in its crypt, surrounded by skulls and chandeliers made of human bones. Too bad it was hardly ever opened to the public, and totally unavailable for any kind of celebration.

"And how exactly are you planning to get in?" He inquired, walking over to the locked door.

"I might have asked Filippo to make me a copy of the key, when he got one for his photography project. Off the record." Because he knew Niccolò would love to stroll through the building undisturbed. Taking in its macabre allure, appreciating the fleeting nature of his own existence.

"Uh… Martino Rametta breaking the law by owning something he's not supposed to? A man after my own heart, I must say."

"I thought I already had it. Your heart, I mean." He commented, offhandedly, as he cursed and kicked against the rusty old door. "Oh, come on! Jesus! You were working just fine last time!"

"And this wonderful hint of blasphemy, right in front of a church. Wow." Niccolò reached out for him, then, pinning his open palm onto his own chest. "You're not mistaken, by the way. This has been yours for years."

"Same here." Marti turned to take his hand, and l let him feel how fast his heart was beating.

And then, as Marti was leaning in for a kiss, Nico moved back and brazenly snatched the keys.

"You know I've got the magic touch. Don't know whether it's in the fingers on in the wrists…"

"You better leave those innuendo at the door, Ni."

"Or what? You'll punish me, Father? You'll drag me into one of the confessionals and…"

… and he might had been tempted to do that, to drop on his knees and worship this man… Before he was basically challenged to reign in his wildest fantasies. Oh, he knew Niccolò wouldn't even try to play fair but still… He was so going to win this.

******

   Memory  

"... and then?" The kids asked, trying to get Mr. David's attention.

"Mh?" He had been distracted by an old lady coming to congratulate him on finally tying the knot a couple of weeks before. Shoelaces were a challenge for anyone, indeed, so it made sense he got praised for achieving that goal… Even though it took him so many years.

And that hadn't been the only interruption. For same weird reason their parents kept butting in to tell them shouldn't bother Mr. Fares. Or his 'partner'. They don't say 'husband', for some reason. Despite it being the word David uses for Michelangelo.

Grown up are so, so dumb.

"You ran away from your own wedding, got to a spooky church… and then? What happened?"

"Did you find a body and have to solve a murder?"

"I'm afraid not. We walked inside, and I read him my vows. He gave me his. I can show them to you, if you'd like? I always carry them in my pocket." Most didn't quite understand what was so great about two stick figures on a badly drawn giraffe, but the words written on the side sounded nice. Especially the closing line.

 Per quanta strada abbiam fatto, e per quanta  ancora ce n'è da fare… Amo già il finale.

"Booooring! I bet you went back to the ranch for the actual ceremony, after that?"

"Wrong. Remember that I started telling you all about this day because Meni asked what was the biggest prank I've ever pulled on my friends and family… That's it: making them all believe they would see US getting married and then have two other people saying 'I do' that afternoon. And this day I'm still quite proud I could pull that off. And so is my husband. I mean, our old folks were THIS close to believe we had been kidnapped."

Impressive. Kind of. Perhaps grown up can be cool, once in a blue moon?

"Ni? Nico? Earth to Niccolò Fares?" Not fair! He was a grown up! Why was he getting sweets before dinner?

"Yeah yeah, I can hear you loud and clear Marti." He gulped down his candies in a heartbeat.  And then gave him a quick kiss, saying "Thanks, love."

Huh? Nico? Marti? Then why their moms - and a couple of their dads - referred to him as Michelangelo's David?

Grown ups are so, so weird.

[spiderneds]

Magic (Peter Parker [TH] x Reader) PART ONE

okay y’all, i’m off to tennesse in the morning. i’ve got a few posts queued (imagines included - part two to this) for the next few days. this strange!reader x peter was requested by @dank-memes. y’all know my love for stephen. writing him is so fun.

Stephen loved that you loved the mystic arts, but he hated that it was all you loved. 

“Hey, honey,” he said, crossing the sanctum. He had a tray of hot tea in his hands. He set it down on the table you were seated at.

“Morning, Dad,” you said. Looking up, you saw the pot of tea. “You know I don’t drink tea.”

He paused. “Right,” he said. “Sorry, my mind isn’t with it today.”

“It’s okay,” you said, smiling.

“At least it’s good practice for you,” he said. “Enough of the reading, let’s see if you can really do some magic here.” He winked. He knew you were smart and beyond capable of doing extraordinary things. “Alright, make some coffee.”

He sat next to you and you looked at the pot. Half a second later, you reached over to open it. Stephen smiled as the smell of dark roast hit his nose.

“You can tell you’re my daughter,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You mixed in your creamer and sugar and then stirred it, not using your hands, but your mind. He sat back and picked up a book he had been reading the past few hours. Cracking it open, he watched you do the same.

“What are you doing today, sweetie?” he asked. 

“This,” you replied, sounding fairly absent.

“Just this?”

“Yeah,” you said. Then you sighed. “Dad, if you start worrying about me again...”

“It’s just-” He sighed, and it sounded like you. “When I pulled you out of high school, you told me you wouldn’t do this.”

“Do what? There’s no point in me going to college. I know more than any student my age knows.”

“That’s now what I’m saying,” he said.

“Then what are you saying?” you asked. Your eyes (a mirrored image of his eyes) looked at him.

“Other than me, who have you spoken to today?” he asked. 

“Wong,” you said. “Who do you think brought me the waffles?” 

“When did Wong get you waffles?” he asked, noticing the take out box stacked full of them. He shook his head.

“This morning,” you replied. “With strawberry syrup.”

“That’s not... the point. Sweetie, you need friends.”

“I do not need friends.” You sipped your coffee. 

“You’d be happier if you had someone your age to talk to,” he said.

“I’m happy now,” you said. “Talking to just you and Wong.”

Stephen shook his head. “Honey, I think... I think what happened three months ago proves that I may not be here forever. Wong told me what happened to you when I disappeared and didn’t come home. He told me. You can’t pretend that you won’t completely fall apart if I don’t ever come home.”

“You don’t know,” you whispered. Your voice grew hard. “I would be just fine.”

“No, you wouldn’t be,” he said.

You got up and crossed the floor, book and coffee in hand. It was clear you wouldn’t be saying another word to him for days. 

Peter slowly raised his head from his desk. 

He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and noticed that the whole classroom was empty. In front of him stood his biology teacher. She frowned as she looked at him.

Peter, realizing he had fallen asleep, hurriedly went to grab this things. He spilled his papers out of his binder and stooped down to pick them up, mumbling apologies. 

“Peter,” his teacher said, “someone is in the office for you.”

“Aunt May?” he mumbled.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. But the office called to tell me they needed you. Are you all right, Peter? You’ve been sleeping more than usual.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.” He picked up all of his things and left, calling back, “Have a great day.”

As Peter walked to the office, he kept his head down and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he got a full night’s sleep, or the last time he ate properly, or gave any effort at all. Truth was, the death of Tony Stark had completely wrecked him. 

He walked into the office, thinking May was there. Maybe he had forgotten his lunch money or phone or something...

But instead, he saw Stephen Strange stand up from a chair. 

“Mr. Strange,” he mumbled in shock. “Oh. Doctor. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said. He waved his hand. “I heard you’ve been having a rough time.”

“Oh.”

“Failing five classes, failing to show up when people need Spider-Man,” he said. He approached him slowly. “Is everything all right?”

Peter fidgeted. “I don’t know. I guess.”

“I know it’s hard,” he said. “Losing someone.”

He closed his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Stephen put his hand on his shoulder. “I have a job for you, kid. A job that I think will help you and my daughter.”

[lady-thor-foster]

Take Me Home // Thor x WOC AU P1

Pairing: Thor x WOC 

Word Count: 2k+

Warning: Angst, smut, alcohol mention, drugs mention, unprotected sex (WRAP YOUR WILLY BEFORE YOU DILLY)

A/N: This was actually posted on my teen wolf blog but I loved the story so much that I adapted it to Thor because I felt like it would fit really well. Don’t worry, the final chapter is already written and queued up for next week so you don’t have to wait a million years for me to post again lmao. I hope you like it! 

Inspiration: “Take Me Home” ~ Jess Glynne

“Came to you with a broken faith, Gave me more than a hand to hold Caught before I hit the ground Tell me I’m safe, you’ve got me now

…

Could you take care of a broken soul? Oh, will you hold me now? Oh, will you take me home?”

Next Chapter

Another night of getting shitfaced and absently fucking some already forgotten person. Another night of pretending my life isn’t spiraling out of control. Another night of pretending I’m not a complete failure while all my friends are out graduating college, getting married, having families and living their dreams. Another night of temporarily drugging my demons and pretending I don’t hear them scream. Another night of struggling to hold my head above the water; it’s another night of failing to pretend my problems away.

Every voice around me is muffled. The party shows no signs of ending soon. People are attached by the face and hip in every corner; I’d see more modesty in a brothel. Navigating the sea of alcoholic debauchery, I manage to find my way to the front porch. The cold air bathes my overheated skin and for one small moment, I can breathe. I lift my thick curly hair from the nape of my neck and close my eyes to savor the fleeting peace. Opening my eyes, I fumble in my jeans pocket for my phone. It’s 2:48am. I can barely focus. With nothing but sheer drunken will, I locate the one name I’m always looking for. Thor Blake. Sleep is beginning to overtake me; my eyelids have never felt so heavy. Pressing the call button, I bring the phone to my ear. It rings twice before a sleepy voice picks up.

“Hello?” How does one person bring me so much comfort? Even in my drunken stupor, his voice resonates in my soul. Thor is home.

“I need you,” I whisper. The scent of rain fills the air and the wind blows in warning.

“Where are you?” He’s completely awake now. I can actually hear him rushing out of bed to put on pants. His keys jingle softly in the background. He’s coming.

“Strange’s. There was a party. I don’t want to be here anymore. Please.” My throat constricts and my chest fills with an aching emptiness I might never be able to fill.

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” The line goes dead and a sigh of relief escapes my weary body. Sinking onto the porch bench, the party rages loudly in the house behind me. I look up at the moon with sleep laden eyes; so full and beautiful.

Lying down, I try to take small comfort in knowing I’ll see him again.

It’s been 3 years since I broke up with him. It was the worst decision I ever made, but I did it for him. It killed me every day. He deserved better than me; the broken girl with no idea how to make her dreams come true. Eventually he started dating again. Jane seemed like the best thing that ever happened to him��until she died. I saw him at the funeral. I’ve only ever seen that look of despair on his face once, the night I stupidly shattered his heart because I was afraid he’d leave me. It was the worst decision I ever made, but I thought I was doing it for him.

I don’t remember calling him. I don’t remember passing out on that uncomfortable rickety bench. I don’t remember Thor picking me up, kissing my forehead and tucking me into the front seat of his car. I don’t remember making him pull over and vomiting on the side of the road. I don’t remember him making me drinking my favorite Gatorade to keep me from getting too dehydrated. I don’t remember him carrying me to his shower and helping me wash the night away. I don’t remember him drying me off, dressing me and tucking me into his bed. I don’t remember him whispering “you’re safe now” into my ear as I fell asleep in a bed full of heartbreaking memories. But he does.

I’ll never forget the haunted yearning look on Thor’s face when I woke up the next morning. He must have been watching me from the doorway as I slept. His side of the bed was bereft with cold; I was alone last night. I’m not surprised at all. Sitting upright, my hangover bitch-slapped me. I groaned and clutched my head in my hands.

“There’s aspirin on the nightstand.” His voice, normally filled with sunshine and love, was devoid of emotion. I looked up. Gone was that desperate look; he wore his stoic mask beautifully. The ache in my chest hurt more than any hangover ever could. I missed him.

“Thor? How did I-?”

“You called me last night drunk off your ass. I found you passed out on the bench in front of Strange’s house. What if something had happened to you? What the fuck were you thinking!?” 

His anger was majestic. The way his cheeks flushed with red made the blue of his eyes stand out strikingly. If I squinted, I could almost see steam coming out of his ears. I didn’t even care that he was yelling at me just as long as he kept talking to me. I missed him. I winced as his voice gained another octave. He noticed. Looking at me sheepishly, he sat on the farthest corner of the bed from me. That haunted look was back. Another knife sliced my chest as the weight of breaking his heart settled over me. There seemed to be no mercy from the consequences of my actions.

“I’m sorry.” The simple fact that he felt he had to apologize to me spoke volumes. I’ve never met anyone with a greater capacity for love.

“Please don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re right; it was foolish of me to get wasted like that. Thank you for coming to get me.” Something shifted in Thor. His mask of stoicism slid back into place and he stood up. Turning his back to me, he headed towards the master bathroom.

“I have to get ready for work. You can stay here if you wish; your clothes are on top of the dryer.” He closed the door behind him and I hugged my knees to my chest.

Gathering my strength, I pulled the comforter from my body. Looking down I was surprised to find he’d dressed me in my favorite red shirt of his. I couldn’t believe he kept it. The cotton fabric felt so soft against my body; a thousand tender kisses and feather-light touches caressed my brown skin. The sound of the water running graced my ears and I headed towards the bathroom. Not stopping to consider the consequences or the high possibility of his rejection, I walked in.

Thor didn’t notice I was there until I’d stripped, stepped into the shower and wrapped my arms around his waist. For a fleeting moment he allowed himself to relax into me. For a fleeting moment, we were us again. I missed him. Detangling himself from my grip, he turned around to face me. Tension hung thickly in the air as neither of us said anything. Water gently poured down this face; he was beautiful. His gaze swept my body and he sighed heavily. Before I had the chance to react, his lips were pressed firmly against mine and his hands were tangled in my hair. Heaven: that was the only way to describe how it felt to kiss him again. He was still my home. I bit his bottom lip and he moaned into my mouth. Moving his hands from my hair to the back of my legs, he picked me up and locked my ankles behind his back. Only Thor could make my body burn this way. I gasped as he slid himself into me, filling me perfectly. His lips moved to my neck where he sank his teeth into my skin. God, he felt so good. He pinned me against the shower wall and we rocked into each other. The hot water only fueled our anguished desire. With every thrust, kiss, bite, and moan we poured ourselves into each other. Sex with Thor was always intense but this was something else entirely.  It was like everything we couldn’t say had somehow been unleashed. Every sorrow, wish, hope and love filled us both. He pulled away and met my gaze.

“I love you.”

I wasn’t sure who said it but in this moment it didn’t matter. We both felt it. I clutched him tightly as a furious orgasm tore through my body. His thrusts lost their rhythm as he emptied himself into me. We were connected by something more powerful than either of us could understand. This was more than lust, more than love. With one last kiss, he pulled himself out of me. The empty feeling made me ache to have back immediately. He handed me the bottle of soap and turned away. We showered in silence. The weight of our broken hearts weighed heavily in the air.

He didn’t look at me as we dried off and dressed. He actually went out of his way to avoid my gaze. I don’t know what hurt more: him ignoring me or knowing that I deserved it. Thor tossed me another one on his tee shirts, grabbed his camera bag and headed for the door. He turned back and paused momentarily.

“I’ll be home at 7pm. Your key is still on the hook by the front door.” Without another word, he hoisted has bag onto his shoulder and left. The slam of the front door reverberated through the apartment and I was alone again. I crawled back into his bed, my hangover a distant memory.

“What do you mean she’s at your apartment right now?” asked a very confused Darcy Lewis.

Thor was currently sitting at a bar with two of his closest friends, trying to figure out what exactly do with the fact that you were back in his life. He was suddenly glad he didn’t tell them he fucked you in his shower.

“Okay, what is the point of her?” he asked. He rolled his eyes at his annoying friend and took another swig from his beer.

“She makes a good point, Thor…why is she in your apartment?” Brunnhilde questioned. The bar they were sitting at suddenly felt stifling. Feeling claustrophobic, he downed the last of his beer and sighed heavily. He’d always hated alcohol but, in moments like these, he could understand why his father drank himself half to death.

“I couldn’t bear to see her leave just yet,” he whispered. Thor was at war with himself. He shouldn’t have kissed you. Kissing you again awakened a part of his soul he fought so hard to bury. It might shatter him if you left again…when you left again. He shouldn’t have had sex with you in his shower. Getting to lose himself in you even just for a little while soothed his aching heart that always seemed to miss you. It might shatter him if you left again…when you left again. He shouldn’t have let you stay. Seeing your face in his apartment again made it feel so much more like a home. The realization that you thought he turn his back on you after screwing you in the shower this morning sucker punched him. He shouldn’t have left you alone.

Even though last night was the first time he’d seen you in a long time, he knew you were struggling. When you lost your mother last year, he went to the funeral. You were the only one standing there as they lowered her into the ground. You didn’t cry. He studied you from a distance as you stood in silence while watching her grave be filled. When it was done you walked away, downing a flask. He meant to go up to you then, but he wasn’t sure you’d want to see him. He was the only one who knew how abusive your mother had been to you. She was an angry, bitter woman who lashed out at everyone. When her illness finally took her, you were the only one who seemed to care. He loved you for it.

As the months went by, it became harder and harder to pick up the phone and dial your number. He’d heard from your mutual friends that you’d taken to partying heavily. He was terrified of receiving that phone call that said you shared you mother’s fate. After Jane, he couldn’t bear to lose another person he loved. When you called last night, he was so relieved to hear your voice. You were his home. He shouldn’t have left you alone.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Brunnhilde

“I wish I knew.” Darcy and Brunnhilde nodded in understanding. They knew you were more than just an ex for Thor. You were, and still are, the love of his life. Thor flagged down the bartender to pay his tab. He had to face you sometime.

“Alright ladies, I should be getting back. Thanks for this.”

“Anytime, buddy. You know that.” Brunnhilde pulled him in for a hug and Darcy patted his shoulder in encouragement. Grabbing his things, he headed to his car.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t follow him? They could kill each other,” Darcy told Brunnhilde.

“They’ll be fine. They’re soulmates.”

Tag List

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[the-energon-hole]

Your top three bots in TF having fun for a while with Human friend. (Not an S/O)

((A/N Now when you said top 3 bots- I had to stop myself from writing Optimus Prime from 3 separate continuities lol. Optimus Prime is the love of my life my good boy, in any continuity he is good. I Just picked my top 3 from the first continuities I could think of. Also sorry if some of these seem short- I have been having bouts of paranoia and I’m trying to distract myself by doing requests. This is a queued post and it’s a little early in the morning but I’m to paranoid to fall asleep…))

Transformers Animated

Optimus Prime

-Even though he completes all of his training, and was an official Prime, sometimes he never felt like he really fit into that title. Certainly, he thought he was a good and kind leader, someone his bots can turn to if they were in trouble and needed someone to bail them out, but he sometimes wished he had more time to goof off a little and be the yong bot he used to be in the academy. He had so much fun in those days, causing trouble and being a nuisance, that was why he gave Bumblebee and Bulkhead so many breaks- they were young and restless just the same as he was, only he finished majority of his training before he was prematurely kicked out in shame for what he and Sentinel did to poor Elita-One. He got what he wants in the end though- a loyal crew, his own ship, and a planet that needed him to protect it from the forces of evil that threatened the sentient life that inhabits this world. He couldn’t help but be a little selfishly and miss the good old days where he was the pick of the pack, and was highly prized for his appearance and his service- he missed causing trouble and being able to get away with it because of who he was. He knew it was very shallow and aclouse for him to think like this, but sometimes you can’t help but let that little dark corner in your processor take control and fill your conscious mind with thoughts of the what ifs and the have nots. He fully believed there was no such thing as a bad person, just people who did bad things, and it was enough to justify him wanting to be the big man on campus again like he used to be- to be able to act as Sentinel Prime does without so much as a repercussive action taken against you.

-You felt the same way at times, being an adult meant you had a lot of responsibility thrust upon you even if you didn’t want it to be- you can’t make a mistake like you could when you were younger and have people tell you that it was ok because you were young, and that you still had time to rectify a situation because you were naive and small. Well, you were still naive and small, just older and and had to much to think about in one day- bills, taxes, cars, money, work, food, rent. It was all too much for you and sometimes you just want to go back to being a kid again.Back to the times where people believed in you because you had potential to learn and grow, and back to when you had no responsibilities beyond that of homework and being to school on time. You can’t say you had an enjoyable experience in school, but it was a consistent and it was predictable- you knew the system. If you could go back, you would cause more chaos and do more bold things that you wished you could have. People would have said “oh, kids will be kids” and let you do so much junk, it was no wonder some of those jerks in school were so smug about getting away with bad behavior- if you would have known that you could have gotten away with all this junk, you would have done it more. You wouldn’t have been so prim and proper, and you would have been more of a jerk- oh, if only you could go back.

-This was something you an Optimus bonded over, strangely enough, it almost felt like you two were old biddies lamenting about good times past. It was comical in a way, two accomplished people complaining and being a bit selfish pinning for a world long since passed. You both knew you could never go back- but it was always fun to joke about what you would do if you went back- “That mean girl in school, boy would I give her such a problem if I could go back and change things” you know he didn’t understand what that meant, and you didn’t understand what he meant when he said things like “I would get a better score than Sentinel in the simulator, and then rub his stupid chin in it” but you were all for it and would goad him on with encouragement. You looked forward to your little sessions with the Prime, it was therapeutic in a way- and you always felt closer to him when you two would laugh about pretend conquests and lost opportunities. It was really just a fun contest between friends, because in the end you both wouldn’t change a thing about your pasts- you knew it and he knew it, you were the product of your past, and it was what made you both so great.

Transformers Prime

Arcee

-She felt a little pent up and trapped, it wasn’t that she hated this planet- in fact she felt this place was rather beautiful and even harmonious. It was just she had no luxuries like she had on Cybertron, nothing to entertain her or anything to do that wouldn’t expose her or her fellow bots to the human population. It was a little lonely when she stopped to think about it, certainly she had all her friends at the base, but she misses socializing and being surrounded by those who were just like her. She also had to admit she wasn’t a big fan of her surroundings, all this beauty in the world and they were stuck in the middle of nowhere Nevada with nothing around but desert and prickly plants for miles and miles. She knew it was probably the best hideout that they could get, but she missed being able to walk around in the warm sun amongst all the hustle and bustle of everyday life that existed on cybertron- that same energy existed here on earth, she just wasn’t able to be apart of it in her robot mode.

-You felt like you have been in this one town your whole life, not that it was a bad place to live- it just felt repetitive and sour seeing all the same people all the time doing the same things. There was an undeniable call to adventure that existed within you that you wanted to so badly answer, but the lack of time and money was a big factor in your inability to travel to far away places. If you could, you would just drop everything for awhile and just explore this world you find yourself placed on- but life doesn’t work that way sadly, at least not for the impoverished and the weak. You would give anything to answer the call to adventure, even the life you worked so hard to build up and maintain. It was your life after all, and no one had the right to tell you how to live it, just sometimes you were to weak to take that step forward.

-Arcee was there to change that- you two always managed to slip away and just forget about life for a long while. It wasn’t the hustle and bustle that Arcee wanted, but it was better to get out and just drive kn one direction for hours until you ended up in a different place than from whence you started. You were a good travel companion, and you always had information about the places that you two found yourselves in, it was interesting to learn about all of these places, even if she doesn’t retain all the information you tell her. You knew it was good for her to get out and explore, and it was good for you to, as being pent up and trapped was never a good feeling. Whenever life gives you the opportunity to travel you take it, and thanks to Arcee, you get that opportunity much more often. You felt lucky to have such a wonderful friend like Arcee, she understood the need to get away and cool off for a while, and she also understood that call to adventure- it was why she was an Autobot in the first place.

Transformers Robots in Disguise (2015)

Strongarm

-You were ecstatic to be lucky enough to be around beings from a completely different planet, those that were grown and evolved in a completely different way than the human race that came into existence. You weren’t allowed to tell anyone about your transforming friends, but that doesn’t stop you from nagging and asking for all the information you can about their culture and lifestyles. Most bots got sick of your prodding and poking for information, but Strongarm was always there to share anything and everything she could about Cybertron and its rules and laws. In a lot of ways they were similar to those that existed on Earth, which made your friends relate to you all the more- in the end your species were not that different, and you were all just life forms trying to get by in an uneven and unfair world. You loved finding these similarities and sharing them with your friends, but again it would appear only Strongarm cares about your research and similarities in species.

-Strongarm was more than willing to share everything she could about her home planet- as sharing helped ease her homesickness and despair about being stuck on Earth. She never got tired of sharing her optimistic knowledge with you, as you were just as excited to share with her. It was nice knowing all these similarities existed, and it helped her settle more and more into her new planet’s surroundings. She considered herself lucky to have you as a friend, even if Sideswipe and Grimlock didn’t like all your questions- it was their loss really, as your enthusiasm for their culture brought a warm feeling into her spark. It was always fun to just sit and share information with each other, it was a nice break from all of your responsibilities of everyday life.

-You both also shared sometimes grim information about your planet’s and those who inhabit them. Cybertron was far from perfect, and since the war with Decepticons all those years ago- it has delved into a more militaristic form of rule and law. Police officers and soldiers were highly revered in their culture,and other aspects of their society suffered for it. That was relatable to all the different cultures that existed on Earth, as almost all of them and glaring flaws that have yet to be addressed- mostly how almost all cultures encourages some kind of discrimination against other humans. You described what nationalism was to Strongarm once, and she didn’t really understand it, all of you are humans as all of them are Cybertronians- all are one in their culture, even if it isn’t always practiced. Decepticons can be treated unfairly at times, but there were rules in place to stop that. You always lamented how there are rules here to, just no punishments are placed enough to stop people from doing things like that. You both want to change so much, but it’s a slow change that will take years- it was nice to talk about it though.

[jawllines]

YN GETTING STOOD UP AT SENIOR PROM SO SHE CALLS HARRY OVER WHOS LIKE OLDER AND WISE AND HE COMFORTS HER AND THEN THEY FUCK LMAO PLS !!!!!

“’Lo?”

Y/N didn’t know what to do. It was prom, she’d been stood up by her date for Kristen McDale, her makeup was ruined with tears, and her breathing was all shaky and stuttered. She felt like dirt, so she did what she always does when she feels like dirt – she calls Harry. 

Harry was her neighbor – or, well, he used to be, but now he lives on campus in a college not so far off from where she lives. They’d been an unlikely pair of friends, just like every teen rom-com, only without the romantic tendencies. Harry was like a jock bodyguard at school when he was there, who got her tickets to parties as just a Sophomore, let her wear his Letterman jacket when she got cold, and carried her home when she was drunk and wobbly on her feet and away from the other gross Seniors trying to coax her into their bedrooms. 

Of course Y/N had always had a crush on him – he was all green eyes, soft hair, and sweet words, but he always had a girlfriend and Y/N was two years younger. So it never worked out…also like every teen rom-com. 

He encourages her to call when things get to be too much – he knows how she is, with overthinking, and getting to deep in her head. Spent plenty of nights letting her cry to him when everything felt like it was suffocating her. She just hopes that he wouldn’t be too busy with school (or worst: with a girl) to listen to her this time. 

“H-harry?” She hates how her voice quakes, “I – um, can you talk for a second?” 

“Oh no, Babe, why’re you sniffling? Isn’t prom tonight?”

Y/N sniffles, wiping underneath her eyes, “He – he stood me up.” She whimpers out, “I – he called and said he had a different date – the fucking prick! I got all ready and I spent money on my make up and hair and – and this dress! And he stood me up and I don’t know what to do, Harry, I wanna slash his tires but I also just want to cry and watch She’s All That.” 

She can hear the pout in his voice, “Y/N, I’m sorry, but no slashing tires – m’pretty sure college’s see misdemeanors.”

“What about keying his car?” 

Harry’s chuckle settles warm and low in her belly, familiar and comforting – like a hug from a cozy sweater. “Nuh -uh. Say, Pet, why don’t you come down and visit me for a spell? Got that dorm to meself, remember?”

“I won’t be a bother?” 

“Course not! Head on over right now, don’t bother changing though – wanna see you in the dress, yeah?” 

Y/N sniffles again, running the back of her hand beneath her nose, “Kay, see you.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” He promises. 

                                                     …

Just as he said, Y/N barely has time to knock after her “I’m here” text for the door to swing open and reveal him in all his, sweatpants slung low, and grey t-shirted glory. He’s definitely gotten his hair trimmed since she saw him last, and his biceps are bulging against his sleeves a bit more, and Y/N is then very suddenly aware of the makeup still staining and smudging her face.

“Oh, Button,” he pouts, his big hand wrapping around her shoulder and pulling her into a hug. 

Y/N can’t help but burrow her face into his chest, inhaling his citrus – foresty smell, letting it make her feel lightheaded “He’s a dick.” Her grumbles are muffled and soft.

“A right, prick he is. Lemme have a look at you.” He draws back, looking down at her dress and tutting his tongue, “You look so pretty tonight, Pet, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” 

Snorting, Y/N furrows her brows at him, “I dunno’ if you realize this Harry, but I look like a coked out raccoon.” 

And in very Harry like fashion, he tuts his tongue once more, and shakes his head, reaching to cup her face with his big, warm hands. Letting his thumbs stroke over her tear stained, mascara smudged, cheeks, in slow steady movements, “Still beautiful.”

It’s because he does stuff like this, that makes her all mushy for him. How could she not be, when Harry is sweet and gentle and so nice to her…his looks were just an additional bonus, which was the craziest thing. No wonder he always had a girlfriend, honestly, even if she hates it she understands why. 

“Alright, I’ve got some clothes set out for you and She’s All That queued up. You’re spending the night, Poppet, I’ve already let your mother know.” He gives her a big grin and Y/N returns it just as, if not twice as wide. A sleepover with Harry is always a fun one, and she’s pretty certain he’s her best friend – or at least the only friend she has willing to give up their alone time and their night just so she didn’t have to be alone. 

So she takes herself into the bathroom with his clothes in hand, flopping them on the sink before working on taking the earrings she had out of her ears and avoiding looking at her face for a spell until she can take care of it. She’s lucky she keeps makeup wipes in her purse or she would just have to rock this post stood up for prom” look for the rest of the night. Once she’s wiped free of all mascara debris, she draws her hair back into a bun, before trying to start up on her dress. 

Her dress was one size too small so that everything held up, but it was incredibly hard to get on and out of. She also seemingly forgot her mother had to help her tug it up and over and zip her up, but she remembers this when she’s trying to reach for the zipper and things aren’t going as planned. So with a huff through her nose, she calls out for Harry, who comes moments later.

“Will you please unzip me?” She questions him, and Harry clears throat soundly before nodding, motioning for her to spin around. His fingers were warm, when they touch gently to her shoulder as he moves her hair out of the way, and he gets a grip on the zip before pulling it undone. Y/N hadn’t realized how low it actually went until she feels the warmth of Harry’s hands emanating off of him and upon the top half of her bum.

She expects him to be through after that, but two careful hands start pressing the two sides apart, his palms running smoothly over her back. “Ah,” he tuts his tongue, “Really doesn’t know what he’s missin’,” it’s off handed and takes Y/N by surprise but before she could question him on it, Harry disappears through the door.

Skin pebbled with goosebumps, Y/N finishes getting out of her dress and into one of Harry’s soft sweaters and a pair of sweatpants. Bottom lip bitten raw with thoughts of his hands on her skin as she finally ambles out to him, flopping down on the couch besides him with a puff. The movie set up on his TV and a bowl of popcorn on his lap that he shoves into her hands, “Okay, m’ready to fall in love with a young Freddie Prinze Jr. are you?” 

                                                .        .      .

Y/N peels her heavy eyelids open to the soft sound of a Pretty Little Liars rerun, the gentle whir of the ceiling fan, and a few quiet noises coming from the bathroom. Brows furrowed, she tries to rub the sleep away from her senses – she doesn’t even remember dozing out, but it’s clear that Harry had wrapped her up in his throw cover. Speaking of, where had Harry gone? His phone was still out here, and from where she sat what she could see was his bed was empty, and the bathroom door was left slightly ajar. 

Without much thought, she decides to investigate further. Thinks maybe Harry is just brushing his teeth and washing his face…or at least she hopes so, because if she’s been ditched for another girl for the second time tonight that would destroy her indefinitely. Especially since it’s Harry.

So she moves around the coffee table and towards the bathroom door, rubbing at her eyes and cursing herself for crying so much. A headache tickles at the edges of her brain, and she tells herself to ask Harry for the ibproufen as she begins pressing the door open but all though falters. She’s actually pretty sure her brain starts malfunctioning, as no words or noise come from her mouth, and her mouth falls agape like her jaw had unhinged. 

Hunched over the sink, with his eyes squeezed shut to the reflection of himself in the mirror, one hand from his extended arm holding onto the ceramic counter top, while the other is wrapped around his prick. His very hard, red tipped, thick, and all too delicious looking prick. Front teeth digging into his bottom lip, his brows clinched, there’s sweat beading at his hairline and causing small strands to curl. Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes…sure, she’d accidentally stumbled across her window when Harry had left his cracked open wide, but most of the time he had the decency of being beneath a blanket. 

But this…this Y/N has never encountered before. 

She’s planning on slinking back into the living room, so she can sit on the couch and pretend she’d been asleep this whole time, but a soft groan claws from deep in his chest, and his bitten strawberry swollen lips part around it. Spit slicked and puffy, pursed and all too much for Y/N’s poor little heart to handle. “Fuck,” he thumbs at the already slippery head, the fingers on the sink turning white from how hard he’s gripping it, “s'fucking tight.” 

 Y/N’s heart is bounding against her chest, a twist low in her stomach that sparks a dull ache, and she clenches around nothing. She’s never heard Harry speak like that before, and there was something about it that turned all her nerves into knots. 

 She needs to leave. She needs to turn around and go back to the couch because she’s invading his privacy and she shouldn’t know that he’s as hard as he is, and she shouldn’t know that there is precum splurting from the tip, and she really, really, really shouldn’t know that when Harry dips his thumb into the slit it makes his whole body quake in a shudder. 

But just as soon as she’s convinced to turn away and act as if she’d never seen any of it, he says it.“Y/N,” it’s so quiet, she nearly convinces herself she’s just hearing things, “Fucking, fuck, Y/N.” 

 She doesn’t mean to squeak. Doesn’t mean to give away her position with a terribly embarrassing noise, and doesn’t mean to make him pause in his movements. Blinking his eyes open slowly and raising his head, looking into the mirror at where Y/N stood wide eyed and stock still. When she catches a glance of herself in the mirror, she’s sure she looks like a boner killer all puffy faced from crying but when she dates a quick peek at his cock she sees him twitch in his hand.

 “Ah!” Y/N gasps, smacking her hands over her eyes, “I’m sorry! I was - I was just…needed some ibuprofen and I didn’t know where you were so I came but –”

 “But I was touching myself.” He fills in casually, and all too calmly, “Were you watchin’ me touch myself, Pet?” 

 Her cheeks feel hot, “I’m sorry, I can – if you want me to leave I can leave?” She offers, still with her eyes covered as she starts moving backwards, but she feels his ring clad fingers loop around her forearm to stop her.

 “S'not necessary,” he answers, giving her forearms a tug, trying to see her but she holds strong, “C'mon, you don’t have to hide from me.” 

 “I’m not hiding,” she murmurs, “Just– I didn’t think you wanted me to see your –” 

 “My cock?” He fills in once again and she nods sheepishly, “Darlin, I don’t mind if you see it or not. Besides, you’ve heard me go n’ say your name while I was tugging myself off, dunno why you’re the one acting all embarrassed.” He notes, “Now lemme see you.”

She puts up a fight for only a few moments after, until succumbing to Harry’s insistent hands and letting him pull them from her face. He keeps his hands on her arms as if to settle her, stroking them gently while they slowly relaxed from their tensed state. Once they’re back at her sides, he cradles her face in his palms for the second time that night only this time it feels much less sweet and much more filthy, “There she is,” he murmurs gently, “You look so pretty. You fell asleep on my lap and my thoughts got a little dirty – needed to take care of myself.” 

“Did I make you – is that –” The words keep faltering but Hary jumps in so she doesn’t have to make a stuttering fool of herself, still stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“What do you think, Sweetheart?” He asks gently, and he’s close enough she can feel his minty breath on her skin, “Think you could just come here looking so cute, and sweet, and sad, and I wouldn’t get hard thinking about taking care of you? ‘Bout fucking you so hard that you forget about that stupid boy, n’all you can think of is my cock?” She shudders, heat pooling in a prickly wave to her lower belly. “Thought you could come here and I wouldn’t wanna pull your hips down into my lap and rub against you, darling? S’that what you thought?” 

She blinks, reaching out to grab at his shirt and fisting the material in her hands, “Harry,” she all but breathes, “I – I –” 

He takes her holding onto him as a good sign, she guesses, because he slides his hand down to her hip, gives her a squeeze and pulls her nearer to him. His nose brushes against her own in a sweet little puppy kiss that really contradicts the state they’re standing in. “’ave you ever given someone head, Baby?” He asks, slipping both hands beneath the hem of his shirt, his fingertips leaving goosebumps on her tummy in his wake. 

Y/N’s brows furrow as she tries to find her words, but he’s so close and his touch is becoming very, very distracting, especially as the tip of his index finger skims just beneath the swell of her breast, “Yes -- yes, I have um -- to the boy who was s’pposed to take me to prom t’night.” She doesn’t know why she tells him who. . .he didn’t ask for it, but Harry pouts his lips at her again, and she feels embarrassed once again, that she’d let the boy sweet talk her into giving him a blowie. Promised to take her to prom, and eat her out after too, the asshole. 

Though being here with Harry is much better, she thinks.

“Tha’s naughty, Pet.” He murmurs, “Knew you had a filthy mouth but didn’t know you were keen on using it.” The smile at his mouth says he’s teasing, small and subtle. 

“Harry --” she starts to whine because she hates being teased but he pretends not to here her and continues on unperturbed. 

“He didn’t deserve this hot little tongue on him though,” he pulls down on her lip, making it pout before she opens up for him, “Not a’ all.” 

Harry leans in then, sliding his tongue gracefully and slow against hers, pressing the whole front of his body into her own while his arms looped around her body and his hands slid down her back. Y/N hasn’t kissed a lot of people so she wasn’t well versed in the structure or movement of it, but Harry was slow, soft, and sweet and he mewls these little noises into her mouth every so often that only cater to the ache in her belly. She doesn’t understand why he’s making them until she realizes that his bare, hard cock is nudging up against her, and it makes her draw her mouth from him for a breath, feeling a bit lightheaded. 

“Can I lick you?” She says without thinking, eyes having flickered down to where he bobs heavily and it makes her mouth water -- the prick she’d been had been a decent size sure, but it wasn’t nearly as pretty as Harry’s. 

His lips are a bit swollen, slicked with spit, and a muted strawberry color as he questions her, “Lick me where?” 

Y/N knows and Harry knows that he good and well is aware of where she wants to. However this doesn’t stop her from bashfully murmuring, “Your cock. Can I please lick you?” 

Smiling, Harry nods but stops her before she can start sinking to her knees, “Tell me if you need’a stop, okay? N’don’t push yourself, Kitten, m’pretty big and I don’ want you choking on me. At least not yet.” 

Nodding, Y/N sinks to her knees and tries to quiet the storm roaring within her as she comes face to face with him. The drippy head taunting her as he pushes his shaft down with a couple of fingers, leveling it with her mouth. Y/N wastes no time in parting her lips around the tip, suckling carefully, just as she was taught to (Tyler may be an asshole, but he did go slow with her). It makes Harry moan out loudly, a noise similar to that of what he’d been making when she stumbled in on him. 

It spurs her onward, and she opens her mouth even more so over the head and tongues at the frenulum, peeking up to look at Harry who has his head thrown back, showing off the smooth expanse of his neck while both hands hold onto the sink counter tightly. “Ah, yes, yes, right there.” He encourages her, “Got such a pretty, warm lil’ mouth, doing so well.” 

Y/N buzzes with the compliments, taking him even farther into her mouth before giving an experimental bob, placing her hand at the base of him and giving a twist. His hips buck at that and he shoves deeper in her mouth, but controls himself quickly, moving to place a hand at her scalp, not pushing her but just as a gently presence “Sorry baby, you just feel so good. Take your time with me.” 

So she does. Y/N bobs her head slowly, sucking on him and listens to all the whimpers and whines that add to the wet dripping and soaking her panties. Her thighs are squeezing together the best they can, to get at least some pressure on her clit, but it does very little. She keeps her other hand at his thigh to keep herself from reaching down and rubbing like she wants to. 

It’s when she pulls back entirely, flattens her tongue and licks a stripe from the small dip of his balls to the smooth, shiny head that Harry’s fingers dig into her hair. “Fuck,” he cries out, looking down to her and his pupils are blown, puffy lips hanging open as she uses the tip of her tongue to really lick at the slit. Y/N can feel him throb in her hand, one that might mean he’s about to cum before he gives her a sharp tug back. “Stop, stop, stop, stop,” he repeats, and it’s only when she’s staring up at him that she realizes her jaw aches and she wonders if she’s done something wrong. 

Y/N guesses her face is easy to read as a book though, as Harry pets tenderly at her head, stroking the hair he’d mussed up down, “You weren’t doin’ anything wrong, Darling, I was just so close to cumming. Realized I wanted to nut off on your body rather than on your mouth.” His hand slowly skims down to her ear, caressing the lobe, “Just don’ know where yet.” 

She starts to stand, a little wobbly on her legs but Harry reaches out to hold her steady, “Easy there,” he titters, “Wanna hear what m’gonna do to you?” 

"Yes!” She answers a little to eagerly and it makes him chuckle warmly.

“First, m’gonna take all this off,” he begins, fingering at the collar of his shirt she’s wearing, his other hand squeezing on her hip like he’s proved to be so fond of doing, “Gonna take my time with you . . .get you so worked up that your dripping down your thighs, begging me to do something, anything at all,” Y/N feels dizzy with want, listening to his words thick with desire, “And instead of giving into your cute little whimpers, I’ll press your thighs together real tight, and slide my cock right in between. . .make you watch the head disappear and reappear while you wish and want it to be inside you. Dunno if I’ll even take you t’night, Pet, maybe I’ll just get you all flustered and hot before cuddling you to sleep.” He waits a beat, searching her face, “Are you ready for that?” 

Gulping, Y/N nods. 

This is much better than prom. 

[miracufic]

Have Your Cake (And Eat it Too): Chapter 16

A collab fic with @loosescrewslefty, now found on AO3!

Inspired by @larvesta‘s post here.

< Previous Next >

In Which Two Steps Forward Are Taken

Alya glares at her homework with enough vicious intensity that the paper seems to shrink away out of sheer terror.  Through the wall she can hear the low arguing of her parents, which occasionally rises to a furious screech before her mother brings her voice back down. Probably to avoid disturbing her sisters.

How considerate of her.

Her phone, charging off on the side of her desk, buzzes.  Alya reaches over and unlocks it, glancing at the screen.

A message from Nino.  She taps the notification and opens it.

“Hey babe,” she reads.  “ur mom looked pretty angry earlier when she came by to pick u up”

She considers giving his commentary the degree of attention it deserves—which, considering that even blind-as-a-bat Nino sans glasses could’ve noticed the expression of barely-controlled rage on her mother’s face from twenty paces, probably merited only a flatly sarcastic “Really.” or “Wow, you think so?”—but refrains.  Nino wasn’t doing anything wrong, and it wasn’t fair of her to vent her spleen at him.

“Yeah, she decided to chew me out over what happened in school today,” she texts back.

“Ovr everyone going after chloe”

“Yeah.”

“U all right”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.  I mean, aside from being grounded for a month.  And suspended.”

“Uh”

After a second, Nino follows up his message with a concisely eloquent “What.”

“Yeah, it turns out that fucking spineless tit Damocles doesn’t like being called a corrupt pig chained to the petty whims of a vain teenaged brat of a girl.”

A few more seconds pass before Nino replies, “You what”.

“I may have lost my temper at him.  Slightly.”

“After the rest of us left huh”

“Yeah.”

“Babe i love u”

“I sense a but coming.”

“But you really really need to cool it with the whole provoking chloe thing”

Alya quashes the shrieking, rising tide of rage and goes intead with a measured, “Nino, I would choose your next words.  Very.  Carefully.”

“Oh for crying out loud just wait a sec”

She waits a second.  Then a minute.

“Well?”

“Look we all get it,” Nino writes.  “We all love mari and we all hate that chloe likes to pick on her and letting that stuff slide makes none of us happy.  But ur the only one of us whose mom actually works for her.  Do u think that shes not going to be petty enough to go after ur fam?”

The entire apartment goes still.  A quiet, high-pitched ringing fills her ears.

“Babe?

Uh babe

Babe u havent said anything

Its been like a minute

Oh fuck

Did ur mom lose her job”

“No,” Alya types in quickly, “no, we’re fine, Nino.”

“Oh good”

“I had not thought of that, damn.”  Alya stops and chews on her upper lip.  “But look, I don’t”

“Look I know u dont want to not do the right thing,” Nino texts before she can finish.  “Uh if you get my point”

“I do, thank you Nino.”

“But u need to take care of urself too

Mari wouldnt want u to ruin ur life for her”

“Look, even /she/ can’t get Mom fired that easily, there are too many ways they’d get screwed over legally.”

“U think she cares abt laws?  Or knows abt them?”

“No, but her father does.”

A pause.  Then, “Point but I still think u should back off a bit.  U dont need to keep going after chloe all the time, we can do tht. Just focus on helping mari.”

Alya stares at the message for a few seconds before tapping in, “Look, can you take a call right now?”

“Sure”

A second later, her phone rings.  She accepts the call and turns on the speakerphone.

“Hey babe,” Nino says.

“Nino, I can’t do that,” Alya says.  “No, let me finish.  Marinette needs someone who’ll always be there to stand up for her, and—I’m trying not to be too judgmental here, but you guys have dropped the ball consistently there.”

“Okay,” Nino says after a moment.  “Harsh, but yeah, I get what you’re saying.”

“So I—can’t, Nino,” Alya says, “I can’t just do that to her.”

“I thought you’d say that,” Nino says with a sigh.  “How long are you going to be out of class?”

“Eight days starting tomorrow,” Alya says.  “So I’ll be back, uh, next next Tuesday, I think.  Yeah, Tuesday.”

“All right,” Nino says.  “I’ll talk to Adrien, see if the four of us can’t hang out at your place sometime this weekend.”

“That is probably not going to work,” Alya says, sticking her tongue out in the direction of the living room.  “Grounded, remember?  I sincerely doubt Mom’d let me have friends over.”

“Yeesh,” Nino says.  “Think that telling her that we’re bringing class notes would work?  We have that test in math the Friday you get back.”

“I think the automatic response to that would be ‘why don’t you just email them to her?’” Alya says, making a face.  “You’re welcome to give it a shot, though.”

“Sometimes I forget how harsh your mom is,” Nino says.  Someone says something in the background, the words indistinct.  Nino responds, “Yeah, give me a sec.”

“You need to go?”

“Chores,” Nino says.

“Wow,” Alya says.  “Bummer.”

“Your mockery is noted and unappreciated,” Nino says with a haughty sniff. “Love you, babe.  Talk to you later.”

“Love you, Nino.”

Alya sets her phone down on her desk with a quiet click as Nino hangs up and slumps back into her chair, letting the noises of her apartment fill her room.

It’s just that the noises are about ninety percent her parents arguing.

“What’s going to happen the next time she decides to do that to an authority figure?” her mother shouts, the words punching easily through the intervening walls.  “She could get arrested!  Or shot!”

“And what kind of message do you think we’re sending to her,” her father replies, his basso voice a heated rumble, “to her sisters?  That if someone powerful and influential does something wrong they should just shuffle along and pretend that nothing wrong is going on?”

“There is a time and a place for these things, and neither of them is right in front of the Headmaster, to the Headmaster’s face!”

“Then where?  Then when? When is a good time to point out the obvious injustice of her situation?”

“She goes to the rector, or someone else up the ladder from the Headmaster,” her mother says.  “She uses some common sense and good judgment instead of rash bullheadedness!”

Alya sighs, heads to her bed, and stuffs her head beneath her pillow, muffling her father’s reply.

At some point, she falls asleep.

“Morning, Nino,” Marinette says the next morning as he walks in with Adrien at his heels; Adrien slides his torn bag across to Marinette with a wink that makes something flush hotly in her chest.  “M-Morning, Adrien.  Hey,” Marinette says, “did either of you see Alya on your way in?”

“She didn’t tell you?” Nino says, his brows popping up for a moment.  “She decided to yell at Damocles for basically just doing whatever Chloe wants him to do instead of his job.  She got suspended.”

“Uh,” Adrien says.

“She what?” Marinette says.

“She, uh, basically called Damocles a sock puppet with Chloe’s Dad’s hand up his ass,” Nino says.

“To his face,” Marinette says.

“A-yup.”

Marinette swears under her breath as Adrien asks, “How long is she suspended for?”

“Two weeks,” Nino says.

“Wait, what?” Alix says.  She reaches up and pops out an earbud.  The sound of someone screeching loudly in Russian while an electric guitar howls in the background rings tinnily from it before she reaches down and pauses her music. “Chloe got Alya suspended?”

“This is going to get repetitive,” Nino mutters under his breath. “All right, so Alya got in a shouting match with Damocles, said some things she shouldn’t have, Damocles gave her a two-week suspension.  I don’t know if Chloe actually, y’know, told him to punish her or if she egged her on, but that’s all I know.”

“Aw, jeez,” Alix says, rolling her eyes and slumping back into her chair. “Your girlfriend is an idiot, Nino.”

“Sometimes,” Nino says.

They hear a haughty sniff from the door way and a rapid clat-clatter of heels on the floor.  Half a dozen heads—Adrien’s, Alix’s, Marinette’s, Nino’s, Kim’s, and Lila’s—turn towards Chloe as she struts to her seat, followed closely by Sabrina.

“Only a shame she couldn’t get expelled,” she says as she sits.  “But I’m sure she’ll slip up at some point.”

“We can only hope,” Alix says, attempting to make Chloe spontaneously combust with sheer force of will.

“Why, thank you—“

“I don’t think she was talking about you, Chloe,” Lila says.

“No,” Alix confirms, “I wasn’t.  Thank you for the clarification.  Some people needed it, apparently.”  She waves to Mylene and Ivan as they shuffle into class as well and puts her feet up on the desk and her hands behind her head.

“Excuse me?” Chloe says, bristling.

Alix takes a deep, satisfied breath.  “For the benefit of the idiot in the room,” she says, “I’ll repeat myself. One of these days, you’re going to let your gigantic ego get the better of you, and you’re going to do something so monumentally stupid even by your standards that even dear old daddy isn’t going to be able to cover for you, and all of us are going to be rid of your burden.”

Nino sighs and turns on his music, bringing up the volume until the sounds of Alix, Mylene, and Chloe screaming at each other are mostly drowned out.  Adrien slouches beside him and looks miserable. Marinette takes out her sketchbook and starts to scribble as the others file in.

“Uh, excuse me,” Rose asks Nino as she and Juleka come in a few minutes later. Nino pries his headphones loose and cocks an ear towards her.  “Where’s Al—“

“Later,” Nino groans, “please.”

Juleka approaches him later as everyone is queuing up to leave for lunch.

“Alya’s been suspended because she mouthed off to Damocles,” Nino says, “she’ll be back in a couple weeks.”

Juleka blinks at him.  “Uh,” she says.  “Yeah. I know.  Rose told me.”

“Oh thank god,” Nino says.  “You would not believe how many times I’ve needed to repeat myself today.”

“Fourteen times,” Juleka says.  “Max’s been keeping score.  Kim has a small betting pool going as to when you’ll crack.”

“He what?”

“He’s set up a betting pool as to how many times people will need to ask you where Alya is before you snap,” Juleka says.

“How much is in the pot?” Nino asks.

“Around twenty euros,” Juleka says.

“Who’s winning right now?”

“Rose and I,” Juleka says.  “We’ve put five euros in on you snapping at seventeen asks.”

Nino blinks at her, then lets his head sink into his hands.  “You guys suck,” he says, voice muffled.

“Love you too.  Anyways, what I was going to ask was whether you knew what was going on with Adrien and Marinette.”

Nino looks up, bemused.  “What do you mean ‘what’s going on’?”

“Rose says that they’ve been a lot touchier than usual,” Juleka says. “They seem a lot closer than they were yesterday,” she translates after a look at Nino’s expression.

Nino thinks it over, his intuition throwing sparks onto tinder at the back of his mind.

“Maybe something’s happened,” he says with a shrug.  “Tell you the truth, I hadn’t noticed anything really different.”

“Too worried about Alya?”

“Too worried about Chloe deciding to do something involving Alya,” Nino says.  “She’s not exactly a kind, wonderful, forgiving, charitable sort of person.”

Juleka makes a face.  “Don’t need to tell me twice,” she says.  She glances up at Rose, waiting patiently for her at the sidewalk.  “Look, I gotta go.  See you later?”

“Later.”

Nino watches the two of them go, absorbed in thought until Adrien’s hand lands lightly on his shoulder.

“Huh?  Oh, hey,” Nino says.

“Heading home for lunch?” Adrien asks, sitting next to him on the school’s front steps.

“Duh,” Nino says.

“Want a ride?  The Gorilla should be here in a few.”

“Sure,” Nino says.

His mind flits back to what Juleka had said.  Adrien had been closer to Marinette, had he?  Well, he had offered her his help in snagging him way back when, and it wasn’t like it’d hurt to give him just a little nudge. And they didn’t have anything else to do.

“Hey, is everything all right with Mari?” Nino asks, giving Adrien a sidelong glance.  “She seemed really shaken up the other day.”

“Hm?  Oh, yeah,” Adrien says.  “She looked a lot better when I left.  You and Alya went to visit after school, right?”

“Yeah,” Nino says.  “Seemed a little tense, but at least she wasn’t actually freaking out.”

“That’s good,” Adrien says.

Nino leans back onto his elbows.  “Hey,” he says, “do you know why she had all those band-aids on her fingers?”

“Oh, burned herself on a hot pan,” Adrien says, then hastily adds, “that’s my best guess at any rate.  She does a lot of baking, doesn’t she?”

“Probably,” Nino says.  “Someone’ll need to help her with stuff.”

“Probably,” Adrien echoes.  “Real question is, will she let herself be helped.”

“Pride goeth,” Nino says.

“Hey, at least one of us will be there to catch her if she trips, right?” Adrien says.  He shoots Nino a sunny, wolfish smile.  “What are friends for, anyways?”

Nino mirrors his smile and offers up his fist.  Adrien taps his knuckles to his as a car pulls up to the curb.  “Come on,” Adrien says.  “Let’s go.”

“Hey, is your hand doing better?” Adrien asks Marinette.  “Your blisters are healing well?”

“Yes, they are,” Marinette says with a patient sigh and a small smile.  “Please stop fussing, I’m not an invalid, Adrien.”

Rose coos at them while Chloe glowers, fuming so ferociously that for a second Nino is forcibly reminded of Mt. Etna, looming over the innocent and unaware citizens of Catania, ready to obliterate them and their little lives in a moment’s notice.

Nino lets his attention drift to more important matters once he’s satisfied that Chloe isn’t going to explode and try to claw someone’s eyes out.  At least in the immediate future.

Marinette and Adrien had been, well, the only word that really fit was odd, over the past week.

Adrien had been fairly normal, aside from the aggressively keen interest he’d started showing in Marinette—Nino lets himself preen a little at that, go him.  Just one week and Adrien was already well on the way to asking her out, Alya was going to freak.  But their every interaction had been tempered with a sense of coiled restraint on Adrien’s part, like he’d desperately wanted to do something or to say something but had felt that the time or the place or the company wasn’t quite right.  Although Chloe’s constant, hovering presence all three were more or less the case.

And, well, Marinette.  She should’ve been over the moon with Adrien’s constant, focused attention, Nino was sure.  He knew that he wasn’t exactly a master at reading people but Marinette could be counted on to be as ecstatic as Chloe was incensed whenever Adrien paid her the least bit of attention.

Or, she had been, at least.  Now she was distant and distracted half the time; but why?  It probably wasn’t anything Chloe had done, every other time this week she’d made an attempt to crack Marinette’s composure they’d put a stop to it before things could get, ahem, messy.  Maybe the aftereffects of Chloe’s dumb trick with the honey?  But she’d seemed practically normal just a couple days after that.  Maybe she was just worried for Alya?  That felt a lot more likely, but his gut was still telling him that there was something off about that guess.

Nino grumbles under his breath.  He needs Alya for this.  Well, a couple more days and she’ll be back, and then maybe they’d be able to figure this mess out.

But first, of course, he needs to pass this dumb exam, or his parents would have his head.  He turns his thoughts away from his friends’ relationship drama and back towards the mass of incomprehensible squiggles on the board.

“I—“

Thunk.

“—hate—“

Thunk.

“—this.”

Thunk.

“I’m pretty sure that concussing yourself isn’t going to help, Nino,” Adrien says from where he lounges on Marinette’s floor.  Marinette lobs a croissant at his head; Adrien catches it, shoots a wink back her way, and bites off one of the horns.

“Not all of us have fancy math tutors to help us, Mr. ‘I’m already learning calculus’,” Nino mutters darkly.  He catches the pain au chocolat that Marinette throws to him and starts chewing steadily through it, not bothering to brush away the crumbs that fall into the spine of his open math textbook.  “Seriously, this is all Greek to me.”

“You did pretty well on the homework for this section, didn’t you?” Marinette says.  She takes the last pastry, a cheese danish, from the plate on her desk, folds it in half, and takes a bite.

“I thought I did,” Nino says.  “But since I don’t get a single thing this book is saying, I’m having second thoughts about that.”

“In fairness, this isn’t the best resource in the first place,” Adrien says, “according to my tutor anyways.  Frankly I think he just has a personal vendetta against the author or the publisher or something.”

“Well, it is an American publishing house,” Marinette says, flipping through page after page of arcane scrawl with a glazed, disinterested air. “Think that has something to do with it?”

“Maybe,” Adrien says.

“Oh, yeah, do you mind if I drop by and use your scanner later, Adrien?” Nino says.

“Mm?  Yeah, sure, why?”

“Alya’s still under house arrest, remember?” Nino says.  “She’s going to need our notes.”

Adrien pauses in the middle of copying out an equation, shakes his head with a slight frown, and continues.  “Shoot, can’t believe I forgot that.  Think her mom will let her Skype in?”

“Probably,” Nino says.

“I’ll text her and see if she’s open,” Marinette says, pulling out her phone and tapping a quick message.

“I’ll pop down and return the plate,” Adrien says.

Nino groans and rolls onto his back as Adrien hauls open the trapdoor and trots downstairs, sitting up and stretching out his back and neck with a succession of loud pops.

“Seriously, how the heck does Adrien remember all this stuff?” Marinette grumbles, opening a drawer and taking out a sheet of lined paper.  “I’ve been staring at this for half an hour and I still can’t remember all the identities.”

“Fancy expensive math tutor, remember?” Nino says.

“Ah.  Right.”

Nino stares at her back as Marinette starts scribbling, slowly and carefully, her gaze darting back and forth between the text and her notes.

“On the subject of Adrien,” he says carefully.  “Is it just me, or has he been paying a lot more attention to you recently?”

Marinette pauses for a second, then erases a line from her notes. “That’s possible,” she says.

“You’re taking this calmly.”

“You were expecting something else?”

“Yes,” Nino says.  “More flailing, freaking out, panicking, that sort of thing.”

Marinette turns around in her chair and raises an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”

“Just saying,” Nino says, “you have, in general, tended to freak whenever Adrien was involved.”

“I have not,” Marinette says, with a coloring of mild indignation to her words.

“Marinette, even Adrien was picking up on how weird you were acting around him,” Nino says.

Marinette frowns slightly.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like, before all this stupid crap with Chloe and stuff, back when you first met him,” Nino says.  “The flailing, the random squealing, the whole ‘hiding behind the nearest solid object or Alya whenever he’s around’ thing.”

Marinette blinks, a slow blush burning down from her ears into her cheeks and upwards from her shoulders.  After a minute, she looks down and mumbles, “Well, things have changed.”

“Dude,” Nino says.  “You’ve had him fawning over you for an entire week and you’ve kept your cool the entire time?  I’d say ‘things have changed’ is the understatement of the year.”

“No kidding,” Marinette says with a little laugh.

“Hey,” Adrien says, popping his head up through the trapdoor, making them both jump.  “Hey, Nino, you free for dinner?  Marinette’s parents want to know.”

“Uh, probably not,” Nino says.

“All right.”  Adrien shuts the trapdoor behind him and tromps down the stairs.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this while Adrien’s around,” Marinette says.

“Yeah,” Nino says.

Marinette stands and stretches, wincing at the sharp-dull, sharp-dull aching pulse in her back, and brushes a sweat-damp lock of her hair back behind an ear.

She really ought to thank her dad after this.  She’d almost forgotten how much ass cleaning out the ovens sucked.

But hey, on the bright side making sure that the ovens were sparkling now meant less labor for the rest of the month.  Theoretically.

She just wishes that it felt like a plus, instead of like a herniated disc.

Well, punishment wasn’t supposed to be an all-expenses paid vacation, and it wasn’t as though she didn’t kinda sorta deserve it for going behind her parents’ back like that.

She was going to be grounded for so long when they found out about the Ladybug thing.

Her thoughts inexorably shift to Tikki, currently sulking nearby atop one of the counters.

A week had not changed the little spirit’s mind on the whole “tell my boyfriend, who is Chat Noir, that I am Ladybug, who also happens to have been the girl he has pined after for literally his entire career, which granted is only a few months at this point but will definitely help clear up any issues in the future and make our dating life much less awkward in the long run”, or made them more talkative on the subject.  Not a peep, not a word, not a single damn hint as to why they were so reluctant to let her tell him.

Frustrating in the extreme.

And what makes it worse, she reflects as she starts scrubbing the next oven, is that the kwami wouldn’t be so insistent if they didn’t have a very, very good reason.

She crawls inside the oven, wriggling flat on her back to fit, and bangs her head on something when she hears a sudden sharp rapping on the bakery’s front door.

“Ow,” she growls as she shimmies her way back out, rubbing the spot—that was going to leave a bruise.  Who the hell would come by at this hour?  Well, burglars, maybe, but they’d just try to smash in one of the windows, they wouldn’t knock.

Rap rap rap rap.

“All right, all right, I’m coming, what the hell do you—“

Adrien—Chat Noir, she corrects herself mentally—is standing on her front step.

She goggles at him for a moment as he waves cheerily.

“What the hell are you doing here this late,” Marinette hisses at him as she unlocks the door.  “Keep it down, we’re dead meat if Mama and Papa hear us.”

“Well, I had some time before my evening patrol,” Chat purrs as Marinette unlocks the security gate and pulls it open as quietly as she can.  “And I figured that I’d stop by to see my favorite—“

“Knock it off, Adrien,” Marinette says, “I’m serious, you’re not even supposed to be here unless it’s to help me study!  At least for another few weeks.”

Chat reaches behind him and pulls out a folded sheet of paper from his belt.  “I figured you might need this,” he says innocently.  “You know, for the test.”

Marinette stares blankly at it, then at his all-too-innocently-sunny expression.

Oh, fuck it.  She’d missed this.

“Come in,” she says resignedly, taking the paper from him and stuffing it into a pocket.  She pulls the security gate across and locks it again as Chat skips in, humming a little tune under his breath.

He engulfs her in a hug from behind, gently resting his chin on her shoulder.  Marinette jumps in surprise, nearly headbutting him as she instinctively jerks backwards, her heel twitching upwards in an entirely reflexive movement. Then she relaxes and sinks into the embrace.  Her hands move to rest languidly over his arms.

“I missed you,” he says.

Marinette snorts.  “You were here like, two hours ago.  And we’ll see each other tomorrow anyways.”

“I still missed you,” he says.  “And I missed this.  Being able to just be alone with you.”

“You are so needy,” she says, reaching up to scratch him behind an ear; he purrs and leans into her touch.  “And don’t pout at me like that.”

“You can’t even see my face,” he says.

“I can see your reflection in the glass, kitty,” Marinette says.  She pushes at his arms around her waist until he releases her, with many whines of protest.  “And don’t bother with the kitty eyes either.”

Chat turns the kitty eyes up to eleven as Marinette turns to face him with a small smile flitting about the edges of her composure, then up to twelve as she shows no sign of budging.

“I give,” he says after a minute.

“Hah!”  Marinette raises both fists in the air, walking a mock victory lap around Chat as he claps.  “Do I win anything, oh boyfriend-of-mine?”

The expression on his face drains, to be replaced nervous wariness.

“Uh, Chat?  What’s wrong?”

“Uh,” he says after a moment.  “That’s actually what I came here about, we never really got a chance to make it official, remember?”

“What?  Oh.”

Marinette, despite herself, flushes and looks down at her feet.

“You, uh,” Chat says, “um, ever done this before?”

“No,” Marinette says quickly, glancing up.  “No, you’d be my first.  I mean, if you want to be.”

“Oh, good,” he says.

The two stand a little bit apart from each other, staring at each other’s shoes, neither daring to make the first move.  Marinette almost laughs; they must’ve looked ridiculous, the two of them, standing there all bashful and coy and whatever.

And then, with that thought, her nervousness vanishes.

He was as nervous as she was.  Him. Perfect boy, whom she’d pined after for so long, was nervous, and she, little plain ol’ her, was the cause.  The sudden tide of light-headed relief almost makes her laugh.  She was standing here all sweaty and dirty and in her rumpled, baggy work clothes and Mr. Swoony Teenage Supermodel was the one looking for escape routes.

“You are such a dork,” Marinette says.

And then she stretches up on tiptoe and kisses him, lightly and chastely, on the lips.

Chat freezes as she leans into him, her hands on his shoulders, her eyes sliding shut, the corners of her mouth turning up in a small smile as she feels the warmth and the life and the trembling, breath-stealing fear in him as it drains away, to be replaced with the absolute reality of the moment and the unquestionable, unassailable truth of them, here and now, together.

He leans into the kiss, slowly, without passion, but with a growing and absolute surety in two unspoken things.

She’s his.

He’s hers.

After a timeless, breathless little eternity, Marinette pulls away and settles back onto her heels.  Her small smile grows wider as she sees the look on his face.

“Chat got your tongue?” she says.

Chat blinks and refocuses.  “I’m supposed to be the one with the terrible lines,” he says, reaching out to cup her cheek in one hand.  His ears twitch as Marinette leans into his touch, and he could swear that he hears the rapid thudding beat of her—or was it his?—heart as they hold each other’s gaze.

“So, uh,” Chat says after a long while.  He drops his hands to his sides.  “Do you need help with those?”

“Huh?”  Marinette blinks at him as she shifts mental gears.

“The ovens,” he says.

“Oh,” she says.  “Nah, I’m good.  I should be done in another ten, fifteen minutes.”

“It’d go faster if I helped.”

“It’s not big enough to fit both of us at the same time,” Marinette says, prodding him gently towards the front door.  “Besides, Mama and Papa would freak out if they saw you here.”

“I’m not entirely sure your parents are capable of that,” Chat says as she unlocks the gate.  “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” Marinette says.  She stretches up on tiptoe again and pecks him on the nose.  “Night.”

Chat takes her hand and presses a kiss to the back.  “Good evening, Princess,” he says.

Then he vanishes into the night.

Marinette locks up the bakery again and finishes cleaning the oven, then traipses upstairs, humming happily.

“Finished, dear?” Sabine asks as Marinette starts up the stairs to her room.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Good,” Sabine says.  “Don’t stay up too late, dear.”

“Or be entertaining any boys,” she calls as an afterthought.

“I promise, Mama,” Marinette says.

Marinette goes to her room, shuts the trapdoor, and is halfway through pulling her sleep clothes from her closet when she notices the phone on her rug.

“Huh.”

She glances over to where her own phone is charging on her desk, then back at the phone on her rug, then walks over and picks it up, turning it over in her hands.

Nino’s.  He must’ve dropped it during their study session.

She turns on the screen: four missed calls from a number labeled as “Home”. The calls must’ve come in when she was downstairs in the bakery.

Marinette shrugs and places the phone next to hers.  She can just give to him tomorrow, no big deal.

Marinette leaves and takes her shower, then, still floating along on cloud nine, curls up in her bed under her blankets, and falls asleep smiling.

Nino sprints down the sidewalk, legs churning, his every breath a knife in his chest.

Forget his phone, forget getting it back, forget all of that, there were more important things to worry about at the moment.  He needs to get back home, he needs to get to his computer, he needs to message Alya pronto, he needs to tell someone.

Holy.

Fuck.

Adrien was going to flip.