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thepapillonnoir · 2 years

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@marichatmay : Day 8 - Picnic

-Adrien/Chat Noir knows-

Read Quick Explanation Before Reading: This is where Chat Blanc was supposed to happen but it never did. Yes, this may be comfort fanfic.

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“So, are you available?” Marinette was asking her friends to go out on a picnic with her through her phone. They all declined since they were all busy that time too especially, everyone mostly just excluded her and her boyfriend, Adrien, fr their plans since they were always busy dating. Of course, they still keep up with their classes, hobbies, and careers but at the end of those, they always go out to restaurants, parks, and even out of the country whenever Adrien has a tour. They were inseparable when they have a chance to be together.

She was already done packing the food and things needed. Now, she just stared blank, thinking about what to do next after all of her friends declined for they have their own stuff going on. She already settled with Adrien that today was their Off Day. Her parents were also away on their vacation cause she talked them out that it was okay they could have their day out without her.

"What if you just go alone, Marinette?" Tikki flew up from Marinette's sling bag to give the girl an idea, "It's a nice day today and a self-date isn't bad!" Tikki said with enthusiasm as usual.

"You know what?" Marinette stood up full of energy again, "Yes! Maybe I do need time for myself as well!" she ran upstairs to change her clothes.

Adrien was bored in their house, plus he missed his girlfriend. So, he decided to go to Marinette's, he thought it wasn't breaking the Off Day if it was Chat Noir who was going to give a visit. He thought that it wasn't a Chat Noir - Marinette Off Day but only an Adrien - Marinette Off Day. He giggled as he thought of his plan, "Oh no, that's the giggle of someone who just found a way to a pot of cheese," Plagg said tiredly, knowing that any second his owner will just transform to bug the love of his life as Chat Noir... interrupting the Kwami's date with its camembert.

"Plagg! Claws out!" Adrien jumped from his bed, still in pajamas, about to transform. "I will see you again, my love!" Plagg kissed the cheese and then got absorbed by the ring, transforming Adrien into Chat Noir.

Marinette wore a mint-blue colored long sleeve fit and flare-styled dress, matched with knee-lengthed boots. Then, she fixed her hair into a ponytail with an orange bow. It was pretty cold outside despite being sunny. It was one of her favorite weathers for she could wear such comfortable clothes without being all sweaty on a sunny picnic day. When she looked at her mirror, she was so happy to see herself looking good with the outfit she picked, twirling her dress while giggling.

"You look cute," Marinette got startled when someone just complimented her out of nowhere in her room where she was supposed to be alone. "W-what, who!? Who's there!?" she grabbed her hairbrush and draw this as if it was a sword.

"Just Paris' most awesome hero," Chat Noir let his half body in, upside down, through the trap door on the roof. Marinette threw the brush at his face, "Ow! What was that for!?" Chat complained.

"Well, it's rude to just butt in someone's room, Chat," Marinette said as she was about to finish preparing herself. Chat Noir was still looking at her, "Even with a compliment..." Marinette said without even looking at Chat like she knew he was about to ask about it.

"So, who are you going out with?" Chat teasingly asked her, knowing that all of their friends are busy and the Off Day, he knew she was probably going out on a self-date.

"I'm gonna have a date with Paris' prettiest girl," she answered with pride as she went downstairs followed by Chat.

He smiled, happy about her cute confidence.

Chat grabbed Marinette's hand and twirled her to his chess. They were like hugging, except Chat just locked them together with his tail-belt." What do you say about Paris' prettiest girl and most awesome hero dating?" Chat flirtatiously asked his girlfriend knowing that she doesn't know he's Adrien yet.

Marinette managed to twirl out of the lock, "Friendly picnic, yes, dating, no," she said as she grabbed the basket then slightly tilted her head back at Chat with an appealing look, "and last time I checked, Ladybug was the most awesome hero of Paris," she said trying to tease Chat as they walked out the building.

Instead of Chat frowning because of the Ladybug-being-more-awesome-than-Chat Noir thing, he smirked. He finds it cute and hot whenever Marinette has this teasing confidence, and whenever she rejects him as Chat, as Marinette or Ladybug. Ever since he got his eyes opened that Marinette was Ladybug, he can easily read her feelings, and he knows that whether acting goofy like Chat or charmingly moving like Adrien himself, his girlfriend love and accepts him fully.

They were in the park and finally set the picnic, ate the food Marinette prepared, and just laid down after.

Chat burped then Marinette looked at him and laughed, "weak," she mocked. Then she burped even louder, and they both laughed hard after. They also do this even when Chat is Adrien, they don't really mind, they're that open.

"Ya know, that made me miss him more," Marinette said gently while she had her eyes closed.

"Who?" asked Chat as he lay on his side to face Mari. He knew he was talking about him, he just loves how Marinette talks about him, he felt giggly and gooey inside.

"Adrien," Marinette answered with a sweet smile. Chat smiled as well.

"Isn't he that ugly model guy?" Chat teased her, knowing she would be sort of offended by it.

Marinette looked at him with a frown, "Just kidding, haha," Chat took it back. Then the girl went back to her calm state.

"Chat..."

"Yes?"

"Do I know you in person?"

Chat got surprised by her question, he asked himself if she possibly knows or how she even found out if possible.

"Uhm, I can't really answer that..." Chat replied, why would she even ask that, she's Ladybug, she knows the rule they're supposed to be following, that he sorta broke.

"Yeah... I shouldn't really be..." she faintly replied. Marinette felt that there was something with Chat like there was a missing piece of a puzzle she couldn't get. She has this deep connection with him not only as a partner in fighting evil but as someone, a person.

"I'd be happy though..." Marinette looked at Chat.

"On what?" Chat's mind was just creating more and more questions, kinda wishing he should've just stayed home.

"If what I theorized is true," She answered. She means if she knows Chat personally in civilian form but Chat thought Marinette already theorized or knew what's true.

Chat couldn't take it anymore, he was too confused and guilty after the small talk about it, "I'm sorry, my Lady!" he said and sat.

Marinette opened her eyes and sat up in shock, "WHAT!?, What did you call me!?"

"My Lady. Sorry, I... sorta figured out, accidentally, who you are," he asked for forgiveness.

"Chat!? What!? For how long!?" she asked with nervousness.

"Hey, hey, relax, it's okay," Chat attempted to relax Marinette.

"No! I-I can't, this can't!"

"Hey..." Chat held Mari's arms, "Look at me,"

Marinette was about to break out crying but she managed to look at him.

"It's me," Chat whispered gently but in a way, Marinette could still hear.

"Who? Wait... Chat, you know it's dangerous,"

"It's me, my blueberry," Chat said.

Marinette cried after realizing that it was Adrien all this time.

Chat hugged her, "Everything's gonna be fine, I promise."

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Thank you for reading! This may only be one-shot fanfic, but I'll see it in the future.

About the drawing, there isn't one for now cause I can't draw every day however I'm still able to create stories.

The next update for the first story I made, firstly titled "Comfort" will have a new chapter update soon. I don't know when yet but will be posted this month.

School's been up so I'm not able to always physically keep up with hype I have in my mind, so there isn't a visual art for this story. Anyway, thank you for all the support! I appreciate all of it and it really helps me stay motivated. ❤️

Bug ouuuut! 🐞 My bed is calling me 😭🤣🌺

#school's killing #marichat may #marichatmay2022 #mlb fanfic #miraculous fanfic #fanfic #mlb marichat #miraculous marichat #marichat #miraculous marinette #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x chat noir #mlb chat noir #chat noir

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lcksndkys · 3 years

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Title: Official

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Rating: 18+, smut, fluff

Genre: secret dating au

Word count: 1,467

Summary: You can only hide your new relationship from your friends for so long.

Warnings: oral (m. receiving) + a ruined shirt RIP

A/N: This lil smutty piece was written for the ghostie drabble marathon. Song lyrics: “Because all of this is not coincidence.” (DNA). Inspired by @jinpanman ‘s post about "Namjoon fixing his zipper in the middle of the performance”. Also, by law, tagging @sahmfanficbts <3

You grunt quietly as Namjoon presses you against the wall, mouth sealed tight against yours as he kisses you deeply between racks of clothing.

Hand pressing against his chest, you push his heaving body off yours.

“You have to go on in like,” you look down to check you watch, “15 minutes.”

“Mmm, that’s ok, plenty of time,” comes his low rasp as he continues to lick into your mouth, grinding his hips into yours.

You let him kiss you languidly for another minute, basking in the pre-show privacy. No hiding from curious friends or judgemental peers. Just you and Namjoon for these precious, fleeting moments.

Namjoon had begrudgingly agreed to keeping your relationship private upon your request. What had started as a drunken hookup months ago had evolved into under-the-table hand holding, sneaky kisses, falling asleep on nightly phone calls.

“Ah, Joon, you- they’re gonna come lookin for you,” you pull back, panting and trying to reason with him.

Instead of replying, he ducks his head burying face first into your neck where he suckles at the soft skin he adores so much.

Whimpering, you claw your fingertips up and down his sides, feeling the silky material of his top. You pull his shirt free from his pants and send your hands underneath to feel his bare skin.

“Fuck,” you whine. “No marks, Joon” you gasp, feeling the sudden increase in suction against your pulse point, losing himself to the taste of your skin.

You feel the rumble of displeasure in his chest as he yields to your command.

He knew you were exclusively dating him, but when no one else was privy to that information, it almost seemed negligible. He was tired of biting back his frustrations when your mutual friends would try to set you up on dates. (Not that you would ever agree to any.) He was tired of pretending the two of you weren’t more. He was ready for the world to know about your relationship, but he knew you were still hesitant.

Namjoon detaches his warm lips from your neck to peck lovingly at your forehead.

Pressed against the length of him, you feel the evidence of his excitement prodding against your abdomen.

“And how exactly do you plan to hide that?” you giggle, cocking an amused brow at him.

He brushes your hair aside and lets his large hand rest against your throat. Possessive, yet gentle.

“Mmm, it’ll go down,” he mumbles as he reattaches his lips to yours.

Kissing across his mouth and planting a few along his jaw, you make your way to his ear.

“Or I could help you,” you whisper seductively, cupping his clothed erection.

You smirk when you feel Namjoon shiver at your gentle fondling. His body is like a live wire, crackling and exposed at your electric touch.

“Oh shit, I- I can’t return the favor though,” he pants.

“Take care of me after the show,” you purr, hands unbuckling his belt and reaching for the zipper. “You want this?” you ask one last time to which he nods vigorously.

Impatient, he pushes your hands away to free himself from the confines of his pants.

You wrap an eager hand around his length and swirl a thumb around his flushed tip. You gather the moisture there and spread it in slow circles around the rim of the head making Namjoon groan deep in his chest.

You spit generously into your hand to avoid chafing him.

Skin smooth and soft, you pump him quickly to jerk him to his full potential.

Thunk. Namjoon’s head falls back against the wall, eyes closed in bliss, as you tighten your grip around him.

“Eyes on me, big boy” you whisper, sinking down to your knees for your man.

His gaze follows you all the way down until you settle comfortably between his parted thighs.

Your hand continues jerking his cock as you pepper open mouthed kisses to his groin and lower stomach. Your otherwise unoccupied hand pins his hips against the wall.

“Love these,” you muse.

Caressing the supple skin of his powerful thighs, you feel him throb wantonly in your hand.

You sink your teeth into the muscle. All pressure, no pain.

There’s a garbled groan from above you.

“Baby, please,” Namjoon pants, “We don’t have much time”

You inspect his cock as it pulses in your grasp. “Oh, I think you’re only gonna need a few minutes,” you cackle.

An endearing flush spreads across his cheeks, dimples flashing as he chuckles along goodnaturedly. “Well, my girlfriend is very hot,” he argues.

You gulp, trying not to go rigid while holding his length in your hand. Neither of you had explicitly labeled your relationship, opting to silently agree that you were exclusively seeing each other.

Rather than stutter out a response, you stuff his cock deep into the wet heat of your mouth, wrapping your lips around him the way he likes.

Namjoon’s hands immediately push your hair back and hold it in a makeshift ponytail as you sink down his length. He’s not about to miss the visual of you blowing him.

Holding him by the base, you bob up and down, gagging lightly as he slides down the back of your throat. You try to relax, inviting him into the depths of your mouth and coating him in a sheen of saliva.

“Fuck,” he moans, feeling you increase the suction around his shaft.

Your hand begins pumping what won’t fit in your mouth, suckling around the crown and urging him towards his climax.

“Baby, look at me, eyes up” he pants over you, unraveling quickly with your enthusiastic servicing of his cock.

You lift your heady gaze up to meet his desperate eyes. Brows pinched with his lower lip held hostage between his teeth. He’s so close.

Your mouth focuses on his sensitive tip, hand furiously working his shaft. His legs quake with his impending release.

With an obscene groan, Namjoon cums, erupting in your mouth. You continue to suckle at him, hand slowing down but pumping leisurely to help him ride out his high.

You do your best to hold his load without immediately swallowing the unsavory fluid.

“You know what I wanna see,” he whines, encouraging you to open wide.

Namjoon moans in appreciation, seeing his seed fill your mouth as you swipe your tongue through his cum to lick at your lips. You swallow most of it and let the rest dribble down your chin and onto your chest.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Namjoon-ah! Are you still changing?” comes the tinkling of Jin’s voice.

Fuck.

You urgently flip through the rack of Namjoon’s clothing to find something to clean up with. Pulling a semi-plain shirt from its hanger, you wipe down his wilting cock and leave him to tuck himself back into his briefs as he pulls up his pants.

Cleaning off your mouth and chin and the residual cum off your chest, you haphazardly replace the top on its hanger and try to shake feeling back into your feet.

You check your watch again. Six minutes to show time. You smirk.

“Break a leg, bubs” you smile up at him and push him toward the door with a parting good-luck-kiss.

You watch happily from backstage as the group performs another stellar show. The crowd cheers when Namjoon makes a joke about his opened fly. Choreography and vocals all flow smoothly as the night unfolds, leading up to the final few songs.

The seven men pile into the dressing room for a final change for the encore when there’s a ghastly shriek.

“What the actual fuck,” Jin hollers.

Several pairs of eyes look over to Jin as he gingerly inspects an article of clothing.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

Jin looks from his soiled shirt, to you, and back down to the shirt he’s supposed to change into.

You had forgotten you had worn lipstick tonight. And it was smeared all over Jin’s top along with residual ejaculate and spit that had begun to flake as it dried.

Incriminating at best, evidence at worst.

“What’s your lipstick and whateverthefuckthisis doing on my shirt? Why was Namjoon’s zipper down all through the first half of the show? And why did Namjoon-ah get all pissy when I tried to set you up with Sejin-hyung last week?” he fires off suspiciously, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.

The room falls dead silent and all you hear is the pounding of blood between your ears.

“Because all of this is not coincidence,” Jin continues, gesturing wildly.

“I'm with Namjoon,” you confess quietly.

The room erupts in hoots and hollers, I told you’s, and all you see is Namjoon beaming at your admission, happy to finally love you officially and publicly.

#namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon scenario #namjoon smut #btsghostiemarathon #blow #job #secret dating au

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borkthemork · 3 years

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Anne squinted through the panes. There were a bajillion glasses in the vitrines, all varied from thin to thick to glass to plastic, and each piece stared back like an invisible crowd. And right now, Anne just wanted to get this done before five p.m. came and went — although, at the rate that she and Marcy were going, that seemed unlikely.

Glasses shopping was intimidating. She had to choose specific frames, put them back when the numbers didn’t fit with what her optometry papers said, and then do it all over again like an absolute madwoman. Sure, she had Marcy; Marcy could analyze the numbers and somehow find the pairs that fit her, but Anne wanted to prove that she could get the perfect one. Mainly because she wasn't doing this as a kid but as an adult, and if she chose a set that was too loose or too fragile then hoo boy. She didn’t want to think about it.

So she took her time while she hummed a song, propping a square set onto the bridge of her nose for the mirror to once again display. The mirror reflected nothing short of dorkiness.

"You find anything good, Annie B?”

Marcy rested a hand on her shoulder. She, surprisingly, didn’t have glasses, but her hair had grown out over the years, and was scrunched tightly in a ponytail, leaving her locks a cute, frizzled mess.

“I think so,” Anne said uncertainly, tapping the glasses's frame, much to Marcy's delight.

“Oooo wait, that one's pretty good on you!” Her smile reflected alongside hers in the mirror. “Love how I can still see your eyes with the wide frame. Pretty nice touch."

Anne scrunched her eyebrows. "I guess."

It was still hard to think that she, of all people, needed glasses, but what could she do? It became harder to squint at faraway text, to watch the television while cooking the newest Thai recipe, and sometimes she pulled a Marcy, tripping over and banging her toe on things without hesitation. Anne needed this, even if the appearance would take some getting used to.

"It looks so nerdy on me, Mar-mar."

"Hey," Marcy elbowed her a little. "There's nothing wrong with looking like a nerd."

"Well, that's because you are a nerd."

She elbowed her again and the two started giggling. Anne placed the spectacles down back to its stand and she once again went back to her hunt.

There were still so many to go through. Blue ones, green ones, purple ones with marijuana leaves speckled throughout. She might just go with the plastic types, at least they wouldn't break easily, and who knew what would happened if they broke.

So much money down the drain.

And so she went through the sets, paid careful attention to how the glasses would look on just a casual or formal day, and continued on from there.

Eventually Anne chose the pair she wanted. Marcy turned toward her and pursed her lips, finger on her chin. Her expression loosened slowly. Until the only thing she did was stare. "Oh." Her cheeks darkened. "Oh wow."

Anne grinned. "I get the feeling this one's a winner."

"Oh yeah. Definitely."

She folded her arms, giving Marcy the best smirk she could. "So, what do you think? I'll be wearing this for years, dude, you're gonna have to live with me all wall-eyed."

Marcy scoffed. "C'mon Anne, you make it sound like I don't want a cute wife in my house." She then grinned. Her palms found Anne's face, and caressed her cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. "Besides, this is about you. What do you think? Do you want to live with this look for the next three or so years?"

"Hmmm."

Anne wrapped her hands around Marcy's arms. She held tight, let the warmth flush her to a nice comfortable heat, and nodded quickly. "I can get used to it. Maybe I can add something casual to complete the whole look. Like a jacket so I can look like those guys from CSI."

"Definitely." Marcy bopped her nose. "I'll cosplay Gil Grissom if you can be my Sara Sidle."

She snorted. "Does this include a better written romance?”

"Absolutely."

The two laughed, ignoring the bemused stares from the passers by. They didn't have to worry about the fact she needed to choose a second pair for the next hour. Right now, Anne just wanted to look in the mirror, and soak in the new face that stared right back.

#amphibia #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #marcanne #annarcy #fanfic #yes this is #based off Aiden Fillin's glasses Anne drawings

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rikumorimachisgirl · 3 years

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Title: Eyes on you

Pairing: Shaw x You

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 2,901

A/N: You (Y/N) are not the MC in MLQC. This is a plunny that's been bugging me for quite a while, I had to write it. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own MLQC or its characters, but I do own the concept of this fic.

There were a few mysteries in this world that the esteemed Archeology Graduate Professors at Loveland University can't explain - for instance, the formation of the Stonehenge, the exact location of the lost city of Atlantis, the origin of the Nazca lines… and your presence at the Metro Art Gala dressed to the nines, positively gleaming as you strode arm in arm with your classmate and Thesis partner Shaw, who seemed like the perfect gentleman that evening. Thanks to your work at the Loveland Museum, you scored two invites to the gala featuring the recently discovered works of a well-known artist - an event any Archeology fanatic wouldn't let pass. The two of you walked along with LFG's Exhibition Hall, pausing occasionally to admire one of the recently discovered sculptures by the Renaissance artist D'Romani. As you both looked at the intricacies of the artwork in front of you, your charming companion would lean in slightly and whisper something in your ear, causing you to roll your eyes or stifle a giggle.

To the guests in the prestigious gala, the two of you looked like two young people at the cusp of falling in love, but the members of the Faculty of the Graduate School of Archeology saw it differently - this was a real-life mystery if they'd seen one.

As your eyes swiftly swept through the entire room, you could see that your professors only had one question in mind - how'd this happen? How did two people as different as day and night, who argued with each other throughout Graduate studies, end up amiably enjoying each other's company tonight?

You drew a sharp breath and sighed. The answer was simple: Your Thesis defense was right around the corner. You needed him to cooperate, you were willing to go to great lengths to make it happen. And your Thesis partner (unfortunately) was ready to take full advantage of the situation.

***

"Tell me why we're doing this again, " you said through the door that separated you and your date, as you were putting on the dress you bought (or invested on, as he casually stated) for tonight's gala, which he insisted on attending with you. It was six in the evening on a Friday, and you had just arrived home after cramming your workload at the Loveland Museum and foregoing your meal breaks just so you could leave work at exactly five-thirty.

"I already told you a couple of times - you want me to cooperate with you so you can pass our Thesis, and I need a reason to be around her," the purple-haired man waiting at the other side of your bedroom door called out nonchalantly. "You can drop your fantasy about me asking you out because I'm attracted to you."

You hissed silently at his snarky remark and counted to ten. You haven't even left your apartment yet you already wanted this night to be over. "How do you even know she's gonna be there?"

She - the Miracle Finder Producer, the object of your Thesis Partner's fantasies, and as fate would have it, his brother's girlfriend.

"They're doing a show featuring our Thesis adviser. Didn't he tell us about it during our last consultation?" He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I wasn't listening," you shot back, as you took off your ponytail and started styling your hair with your curling iron. You chose a one-shoulder fitted black dress that stops right above your knees, so you thought of wearing your hair down for a change.

"Ah, yes. You were too busy looking at your notes, trying to prove me wrong as always."

You closed your eyes, as you continued to make big beach waves and prayed to the gods you wouldn't commit murder tonight.

"How much longer are you gonna take?"

"Excited much?" You asked, smirking while you now removed your glasses and put on your contacts. "You sound like a teenager excited to see his crush in a school fair!"

"Don't compare me to you!"

"I don't have designs on anyone in the party," you called back. "Unless your brother's attending the event, that is. From what you've been telling me, he seems like a great guy."

Silence. You arched an eyebrow as you strained your ear to listen for any sign of life outside your bedroom door. What must your grunge-rock skater boy-turned-date-for-the-evening be thinking?

"Do you want to pass our Thesis or not?"

You struck a victory pose at his remark. Finally, one point - you, Shaw - about twenty.

"Are you done yet? This suit is really uncomfortable. Damn, why do people even wear these?"

"Because they're decent?" You shot back. "You know, you can always go home if you're not comfortable in your attire because when we get there, you need to act decent, too. Can't have your usual swagger in a formal affair."

"Just hurry it up already!"

You rolled your eyes as you applied your nude-colored lipstick to finish off your look before putting on your black stilettos, and stuffing your phone, wallet, and your makeup in your purse.

"All done," you replied, as you finally emerged from your room.

***

A part of you wished that the dynamics between you and Shaw were different. While he was a pain in the neck, and too carefree for his own good, you also thought he made for a good intellectual sparring partner, quite attractive, and it was hard to deny that he's got your heart beating double-time whenever he got too close for comfort like he was at that very moment.

"My, you two kids seem to be having fun tonight."

You gasped, at the sound of the voice behind you, and you felt your date nudge you ever-so-subtly while straightening.

"Hey, Professor Adler," he said in his usual unruffled tone, his lips stretched into a smirk as he held his hand out to your Anthropology professor and Thesis adviser, who watched you both amusedly. His gesture made your eyes shot wide open, you thought they'd fall right off. Shaw shaking someone's hand? That's one for the books.

"Shaw. Fancy seeing you here," the stout middle-aged man greeted while shaking your date's hand. "This isn't your usual scene though."

"Yeah, I know, but I can't exactly turn a pretty lady down, can I?"

"I can see that," your professor said as he looked at you appraisingly. "Well, well, you clean up well, Miss (y/n)."

You fought the urge to squirm at the older man's words when you heard your date cluck his cheeks with his tongue and suddenly felt his arm around your shoulders, pressing you protectively close to his side.

***

"All done!" You happily announced as you stepped into the living room of your small apartment where your date was impatiently waiting for you.

You could've sworn he was stunned for a second or two before he shook his head and tried to regain his usual impassive expression. Finally, he stood and walked closer to assess you better.

"You're not wearing your glasses. I thought you said you're practically blind without them?"

You cocked your head to one side. Out of all the things he could've complimented or called out, that's the first thing he noticed?

"Wouldn't it look awkward if I wore glasses to a formal event?"

"Your hair is all curly," he continued as if you didn't say anything. "And your shoes are so tall, won't you trip? Also, surely you have a jacket to go with that dress, right?"

You stared at him in disbelief. Why did this carefree, bass-playing skater boy turn into your dad all of a sudden?

"Uh…"

"Well, at least you're not wearing red lipstick. You don't have to try too hard to look sexy. Geez! I've got plans of my own this evening, so don't expect me to be your bodyguard," he continued to mumble as he circled around you. Before long, you felt something warm and heavy on your shoulder. His coat?

"It's just until we get to the venue," he shrugged as he led you to the car he borrowed for tonight. "I don't want people seeing you freeze to death."

You sighed, your shoulders slumped as you followed your date to the car. You already expected he wouldn't throw you a compliment for looking like a proper human tonight, and you cursed yourself for feeling gutted over it anyway.

***

"So, which one of these sculptures did you like best, Professor?" You sighed in relief as Shaw changed the subject, his arm still wrapped around you, making you blush furiously.

"Oh, I have to say I liked Eros and Psyche best. In case you haven't seen it yet, it's located a little further down the hall near the bar area," the older man was starting to explain when someone tapped his shoulder from behind.

"Excuse me, Professor Adler," a gentle voice called out, making both the professor and Shaw jump. From behind the old man, a pretty petite with brown hair and big brown eyes, and the biggest smile on her face stepped up. "My name is MC from Miracle Finder."

Almost immediately, Shaw withdrew his arm around you, almost causing you to stagger backward. He straightened up and feigned disinterest.

"Hey. It's a little rude how you stepped in while I was talking to the Professor," he said, his tone teasing.

"Oh, I didn't notice you here. Do you mind if I talk to your Professor? We've invited him for an interview about the exhibit," the girl said sweetly.

Based on how unconsciously coy she acted around Shaw, and the way he kept egging her, there was no doubt that this was the girl he was crushing on. You felt like the odd person out all of a sudden and needed to step away.

You backed away slowly, careful not to rouse their attention because it would probably suck if you knew how Shaw would introduce you to his little crush. As soon as you were in a safe distance, you turned and walked aimlessly down the hall, pausing briefly at paintings or sculptures that caught your fancy, looking at its intricacies as you did so earlier. But somehow, it wasn't as fun as it was before, so you moved on quickly, to give way to the other guests who also wanted to view the artwork.

Finally, you came upon the bar and decided to rest your tired feet at the far corner, hidden from the rest of the world. Sighing, you slipped your feet off your stilettos and quietly watched as the guests around you - mostly couples - happily chatting away as they enjoyed the beauty of the art around them and the wonderful music that filled the air. You knew somewhere in the crowd, your date was fawning over his lady love, probably getting in the way of her filming your professor.

Tch.

You knew he liked her - he always told you he did. And why wouldn't he? MC was pretty, seemingly sweet, and dainty - the kind of girl any guy would like to protect. And you. You were the opposite. You lived for your work, were 'one of the boys', and didn't need anyone to protect you - that's just how you were - and now you started to realize that maybe guys don't exactly like that. At least not Shaw.

Wait, what were you thinking? You scolded yourself as you shook your head. Why were you even thinking of what he liked when you don't even like him to start with. Or did you?

"Ugh. What the hell is wrong with me?" You groaned when a cold bottle of beer and a frozen glass was placed in front of you.

"I was gonna ask you that myself."

You straightened up in your seat and shot a look at the guy seated beside you. Dressed in a nice grey suit, he smiled as he raised his beer bottle in front of you.

"You look like you needed a drink. I hope the beer is okay. They don't have fruit beer or soda," he said calmly, his amber-colored eyes never leaving yours.

"Y-yeah. Beer is perfect," you replied while pouring the amber liquid into the glass. "Thanks," you muttered before raising the glass to your lips to gulp down some liquid courage.

"I saw you with Shaw earlier -"

The name on his lips drove you to a coughing fit, as you choked on your drink. "Sorry, " you mumbled in between coughs.

"No, I'm sorry," the brown-haired guy said, as he cautiously and politely patted your back. "I didn't mean to bring that up. I was just curious."

"It's fine," you replied when you finally regained your composure. "Yes, we're just classmates in Grad school who decided to check this exhibit out for the heck of it."

"Classmates, huh?"

"Yeah, that's what we are," you said, taking a sip off your glass. "Grad school classmates."

"Are you telling me or telling yourself?"

You looked up and saw him smiling. There was something about Dreamy McHandsome who was seated beside you that felt so familiar yet different at the same time, but you couldn't point a finger at what it was exactly.

"We're classmates, and we're working on our thesis together. But we're not friends - far from it even. We hate each other's guts."

"Can't blame you for doing so," he shrugged as he drank his beer.

"Yeah. He dragged me here so he can get with someone he's been crushing on for so long," you rambled on, frowning.

"Oh? And who might that be?"

"The Miracle Finder Producer. You know, the pretty girl in a blue top and white skirt. He's been going on and on about her for weeks…"

"You mean my girlfriend?"

His girlfriend. You choked on your drink once again. "Y-y-your girlfriend? You mean to say…" You gasped. Has the beer made you stupid? You've barely drunk half of it, you thought as you fought to regain your dignity. This was Shaw's brother you were talking to - and boy, we're they blessed with good genes…

… And the same social awkwardness, you noticed, judging by how he kept his hand at your back, but not exactly touching it, as if trying to assess if he had to pat you or not.

When you finally calmed down, he cleared his throat and gave you a small smile. "Don't worry. She talks to me about their conversations. I know what that guy is playing at, and I most definitely know he's not after my girl," he said, his voice broke no room for doubt. "My name is Gavin..."

"Yeah, I know…"

"You - what?"

"Oh," you said, tapping on your glass nervously. "Shaw kinda mentioned it in passing before."

"I see."

"So, what were you saying earlier about Shaw?"

"Oh. From what my girlfriend tells me, he's got his sights set on…"

"Ahem," you heard someone say loud enough for you and Gavin to turn your heads around. And there, standing behind you, was an angry-looking Shaw. You sat up, your gaze shifting between the two brothers as the air started to thicken with tension. "I talk to someone for a minute and the next thing I knew, my date walks out on me and right into the one person I'd hate for her to meet."

"Well, if you were just honest with her as with a lot of other things in your life, maybe she wouldn't have left your side earlier," Gavin retorted flippantly. "Is she finally done with filming?"

Shaw simply grunted in reply as he watched his older brother finish his bottle of beer and stand. "Well, Miss, there's a lot I've heard about you. Seems somebody couldn't stop talking about you, but I'll leave it at that."

With a wink and a mischievous smile upon his face, the brown-haired guy sauntered off to look for his better half, as you and Shaw watched in awkward silence.

He cleared his throat and glanced at you. "Hey."

"Hey," you replied, shakily.

"So, about what that jerk said -"

"Yes?" You asked, feeling your heart hammer against your chest by the second.

"Whatever he said is not true," he said dismissively, as he took his coat off and draped it over your shoulders. "I told you before, I don't find you the least bit attractive."

You felt tears starting to sting your eyes, as he continued with his harsh commentary. "You're tough, highly opinionated, and you always want to come out on top. I don't find those attractive at all," he said. "I prefer a damsel in distress. I want someone clingy… someone, needy."

"I know that -"

"Oh do you?" He teased, his amber eyes twinkling. "You seem to know a lot about me."

"We've been working together for months now," you said. "Of course, I'd know more about you."

"I see," he said, as he took a step closer to you and touched your cheek, rubbing the stray tear that had managed to slip down the side of your face. "So, you must know I'm also a good liar. After all, I've kept all these feelings to myself for quite some time."

He snickered when he saw your frown deepen and he bent down just as he had done so earlier, to whisper. "I made you think I liked someone else when in fact," his low voice made you shiver. "I've always eyes for you."

The End.

#mr love queen's choice shaw #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mr love fanfic #mlqc shaw #shaw x reader #mlqc gavin #iris writes

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spaceskam · 4 years

Text

Pretty Little Picture (3/3)

okay so TECHNICALLY this was for day 3 of @malex-cupid but then ice robbed me of my wifi for like two days. So here is now. Whoops. (thanks for reading!)

warning for mild sexual content which i forgot to say at the beginning of the last chapter my b

ao3

Alex woke up to a heavyweight on his spine.

It took him a few moments to register it and he had to crane his neck a bit, but, sure enough, Michael was passed out against his back. His cheek was smushed against it and he was definitely drooling a little bit, but Alex didn’t mind. With a sigh, he let his head fall back against the pillow.

His eyes closed as he thought about the night before. About kissing and touching every inch of him that he could. Neither of them really anticipated that, so they didn’t have lube to do anything too strenuous, but they definitely managed to have fun regardless. Maybe it was too early, but he didn’t regret it. It felt good and they worked weirdly well together.

However, the peace of it all only lasted a few minutes before Michael’s alarm started to go off.

“Why does the world hate me?” Michael whined, slowly peeling himself off of Alex to go turn it off. In that time, Alex flipped onto his back. It didn’t stop Michael from falling right back down onto his chest. “You don’t have any chest hair.”

“Good morning to you too, I guess,” Alex laughed, raking his hands through Michael’s fucked up hair. They needed a shower. They were going to take one the night before, but they very quickly got distracted. “I shave it or get it waxed, it gets itchy.”

“Really?” Michael said, scratching his chest gently, “Mine doesn’t.”

“I think it really only starts getting itchy once you’ve started shaving it. Like Liz says she doesn’t get how Max has such hairy legs without it being itchy because hers get that way if she tries to go more than a week,” Alex explained, yawning halfway through. Michael hummed thoughtfully and then turned to prop his chin upon his chest.

“Sounds plausible,” Michael decided. Alex hummed softly, letting his eyes slip closed out of pure selfish reasons. He was warm and comfortable and he didn’t want to get up. “We can stay in bed a little later if you want. Brunch instead of breakfast, remember.”

“How long until then? ‘Cause we both need showers,” Alex pointed out. Michael shifted, moving up a bit more until Alex sensed him just hovering above. He opened his eyes slowly to look at him.

“Two hours,” Michael said softly, eyes drifting across his face, “But we could take one together. Save water and time.”

Alex huffed a laugh, rubbing his hand up and down his arm before leading it up to his neck.

“Genius.”

“Yeah.”

Michael moved down, kissing him much slower than he had the night before. He let the rest of his body press up against Alex which made it very clear he hadn’t bothered to put any clothes on. Alex had at least remembered boxers.

“You’re so warm,” Alex said fondly, his hand gliding over his broad shoulders and the dip of his back.

Michael smiled softly, his nose nudging against Alex’s before his tongue made its way into his mouth without hesitation. Alex tugged him closer and kissed him deeper, not quite ready to let him go. He didn’t think he’d ever be ready to let him go.

Alex wasn't sure how long they laid there just kissing as if they did this all the time. Maybe they could make it a new habit because it was just... nice. Nice to wake up and have him there and have full reign.

Michael was his roommate. They'd lived together for three years. How the hell hadn't this occurred to him before? And this... this wasn't even a stupid crush that he had because Michael was doting on him. He liked him. He *wanted this.

However, Alex managed to keep his expectations low despite his desires being high. They fell into bed the night before under the understanding that this was just a one-time thing, friends helping friends, they were already pretending to date and so why not? That was the precedent. Alex couldn't and wouldn't expect more.

"Do you know what today is?" Michael asked as he broke the kiss and slowly started leaving soft pecks down his neck. Alex snorted.

"Don't be cheesy."

"It's Valentine's day," he said anyway, "I didn't get you anything."

"I didn't expect you to get me anything."

"Well, that makes me a bad boyfriend," Michael hummed, lifting himself up just enough to look at him in the eye, "So what do you want?"

"You really don’t wanna ask me that,” Alex whispered, eyes training on his mouth. He put his hand on Michael’s cheek and let his thumb graze his bottom lip. Michael took a shaky breath.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Alex said as he took a deep breath and watched Michael follow his thumb with his tongue, “Might make you fall in love with me.”

Michael huffed a laugh, smiling wider by the second. Alex liked the way it felt. He liked how all of this felt.

“Alex,” he said, shaking his head a bit. Alex raised an eyebrow but didn’t get to say anything before Michael started gravitating down. “Alex. Tell me what you want.”

Alex replaced his thumb with his lips, breathing him in. He arched his back into him and reveled in the feeling of skin on skin. How had he not wanted this before the weekend?

Simple, he realized after a few seconds of thought, he had wanted it before. He just didn’t notice that it was an option. And, it wasn’t. Not really. This was temporary. But, God, it felt good.

“This. I just want this,” Alex said, voice barely a whisper and somehow still a beg.

Michael, ever the obedient caretaker, slipped his hand behind his back while the other went to his knee and hiked his leg up onto his hip. Alex’s hand slipped into his hair and kissed him deeper. He swallowed every noise he made.

Alex had known he was gay for as long as he could remember. He’d hooked up with boys from all walks of life since he moved for college: pretentious young artists, bratty trust-fund babies, a couple of football players who weren’t out yet, and a rich 50-year-old who very clearly had a lot of experience. None of it held a candle to this, to Michael kissing him and grinding against him and choosing this over spending time making good impressions.

That almost made it more surreal, that he was choosing this. He could’ve woken up awkward, could’ve blamed it on the wine, but he instead kissed and touched Alex more. It felt like he was being lit on fire from the inside in the best way.

Michael moved his hand between them, palming Alex over his boxers with no shame.

“I can’t believe we, two adult queer men, didn’t fucking bring lube or more than the one condom you had stuffed in your duffle bag,” Alex groaned, feeling a bit lightheaded as Michael didn’t stop. He just laughed softly, rocking against him.

“It’d been a little presumptuous if we had, don’t you think?” Michael asked. Alex genuinely, from the bottom of his heart, didn’t give a fuck about being presumptuous anymore. “I mean, if you wanna try, we can‒”

“Nope.”

Michael laughed, “You didn’t even hear what I was gonna say!”

“I know you. Spit only works if you want it to hurt,” Alex said. Michael huffed a laugh, tongue flicking across Alex’s lips because that’s apparently something he thought was a calm and collected thing to do.

“Fair enough. But if you wanna‒”

“No, nope,” Alex laughed, slapping his hand over his mouth. Michael beamed at him. “I’m not so impatient that I’ll risk a trip to the hospital. And we still don’t have a condom, so I can wait.”

Michael twisted his head until Alex moved it off his mouth, favored the feeling of raking it through his hair. His face went all soft in response like a cat that sincerely wanted to be pet. Alex scratched his scalp for extra measure.

“Fine,” Michael hummed, “We can wait.”

And Alex was quite sure he was going to fucking explode at this point. Waiting implied it was going to happen again and not when they were in this little bubble where they were boyfriends, but when they got home and were back to normal.

“Let’s go take a shower,” Alex said softly, needing to stay busy before he got his hopes up too high.

Michael nodded and got up slowly, leaving him with a few more kisses before he climbed out of bed. He stretched up and Alex took in the shape of him. His muscular back, his long torso, his tan skin, his nice ass.

He was so completely and utterly fucked.

“Okay, wait, how do you do this?”

“It’s not hard.”

“Clearly it is because I have no idea how you make it look good.”

Alex was grinning so wide it hurt as he watched Michael through the mirror. Michael had taken ahold of the blow dryer in the middle of Alex drying his hair and did it for him, combing through it and everything. When it got the pair Alex usually just pulled it back into a little ponytail and ruffled what didn’t fit, Michael got that intense look on his face and his tongue stuck out of his mouth as he tried to figure it out. Alex was giddy as he tied it back, decided it looked wrong, and took it down over and over.

“My hair is short, it’s not going to be perfect,” Alex said. When he’d gotten it cut the last time, they’d cut it to be chin-length (three inches shorter than requested) and he was still dealing with the consequences of not just driving down to Roswell to have Maria do it. “Just take your thumbs, try to get an even amount from both sides, and tie up the top half.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing.”

“And it’s looked fine. I’m gonna have to wash my hair all over again if you don’t stop soon,” Alex teased. Michael scrunched up his nose irritably and rolled his eyes. He took a deep breath and tried one more time. It looked nearly identical. “See? It looks fine.”

“How do you make yourself look so good? I’d be jealous if I didn’t get the benefit of looking at you every day,” Michael said. Alex rolled his eyes, but couldn’t deny the warm feeling that rushed through his system.

“Luck.”

“Mm, I believe it,” Michael hummed, moving some of Alex’s hair out of the way to leave a kiss on his neck. Soft and sweet and definitely not long enough. “Okay, okay, get away from me or I’m going to drag you back to bed.”

“See, that’s not going to convince me to get away from you.”

“No lube, no condom,” Michael recited, like a mantra that was more for himself than Alex as he took a backward step towards his bag. It reminded him that he was still in just a towel.

“Are you so boring that you can’t think of anything to do with those limitations?” Alex asked. Michael swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and turned around.

“It’s on days like these I ask myself, ‘Self, why have you let yourself be drawn in by lust and temptation? Is it not enough to admire from afar?’” Michael spoke wistfully as he dug through his bag. Childish giggles slipped through Alex’s mouth. “No, apparently, it’s not. I’ve been a respectful roommate and upstanding member of society, keeping my thoughts to myself for years and then I get one taste and I’m nothing but a useless sack of needing-to-pleasure-Alex cells. That’s it.”

“Years, huh?” Alex asked. Michael froze for a moment before he shook it off and pulled out a pair of chinos and a collared shirt.

“No. I don’t know, maybe. Yeah. I don’t know,” Michael mumbled, dropping his towel. Alex bit down on his bottom lip and took a very careful breath, trying not to do something embarrassing like twirl around the room and sing I Feel Pretty at the top of his lungs.

Definitely feeling pretty and witty and gay at moment.

Instead of focusing on that‒because, wow, that’s a lot to focus on‒Alex took out his eyeliner and drew his wings a bit more bold than he had been the last two days. Riding on that high, he even flipped his septum down. If Michael thought it’d be a problem, he’d tell him before they got downstairs. Hopefully. One of Michael’s female coworkers had multi-colored hair so it should be fine.

He took a step back and looked over himself. Black checkered pants, a loose black button-up that was half tucked in and half out, his hair a Michael special. He looked good. He felt better.

By the time he picked up his phone, he realized he hadn’t actually texted Liz since The Before and she was probably freaking out. As told by her series of messages.

Liz: HELLO ALEX HE DID W H A T?

Liz: Do I need to get Isobel on his ass?

Liz: Are you okay? It’s been a couple hours

Liz: Text me when you can and let me know if I need to come rescue you in the middle of the night

Liz: It’s the middle of the night, I’m going to bed, so I hope you don’t need saving.

Liz: However, if you don’t text me by tomorrow, I will assume you have been murdered and I will be filing a police report.

Liz: It’s currently 7:30 AM. You have until 10 before I assume the worst.

Alex: jesus liz

Liz: OH NOW HE ANSWERS

Alex: I am in fact alive

Liz: What happened last night??? You went MIA

Alex: ……….

Liz: NO YOU DID NOT

Alex: Listen. He’s really good at giving head.

Liz: I could’ve gone my whole life without knowing that but OH MY GOD

Liz: WHAT HAPPENED TO SELF CONTROL

Alex: Went out the door along with my dignity apparently

Liz: For real tho are you okay? That probably wasn’t great for your crush

Alex: I think it’ll be okay. I’m not keeping my hopes up or anything and I’m gonna have a real conversation with him once we leave, but for right now I’m content with him kissing me constantly

Liz: Oh shit it’s still going on?

Alex: It is still going on 😌

Alex: Remind me next time I go on a random trip with someone that even if I don’t expect to get laid I should bring condoms

Liz: omg Alex did you pay attention to sex ed at all

Alex: literally no I did not, half of it was no use to me

Liz: sigh. What am I going to do with you

“Alright, let’s go get brunch. Don’t let me have mimosas because if I drink at all, I can’t promise I won’t get myself fired,” Michael said. Alex slipped his phone into his back pocket to look at him, a grin easily finding his face.

“Aw, you look like such a little frat boy.”

“I am in a fraternity.”

“We don’t talk about that, it’s bad for my health,” Alex said, tilting his head back as Michael moved in and grabbed his hips. One hand moved up to his chin, holding him in place as he kissed him. “Can I have mimosas, though? I promise not to get messy.”

“You can have literally whatever you want,” Michael murmured against his mouth, leaving him one more kiss before he pulled away. “Let’s go.”

Somehow, going downstairs and parading in front of everyone as a couple didn’t feel any different than it had the first two days. They made small talk and ate good food and Alex drank two mimosas alongside Michael’s coffee.

“I can’t get over how cute you two are,” Alisha said, somehow having found her way to them again. Alex gave a warm smile despite wanting to slip and hide beneath the table at the sight of her. In her defense, so did the sight of everyone else. “You’re literally, like, glowing.”

“Well, what can I say? He just does something to me,” Michael said wistfully, giving Alex a face that said he was teasing. Alex held back a smile.

“It’s like you’re still in the honeymoon phase!” Alisha said. Alex almost laughed out loud that that. They kind of were in the honeymoon phase. It would just be drastically shorter than everyone else’s because it would end by the time they got home tonight.

That alone was almost laughably horrible.

“It’s easy when he’s got a face like that,” Michael cooed, reaching out to pinch his cheek. Alex laughed and leaned away only to be tugged back closer.

It was going to be weird when Michael wasn’t attached to his side anymore.

After brunch, they were supposed to have a nature walk again, but before Michael and Alex could go on their way, Jeannie and Curtis called them back. A few other interns turned and looked, but they went on their merry way until it was basically just the four of them.

“Come walk with us for a bit, I wanted to show you two my favorite place,” Jeannie said, a big smile on her face. Alex locked eyes with Michael for a moment and then they began to follow.

“You know, Michael, I was going through all the supervisor notes that Khalil has for your group. You’re a standout. Very focused and hardworking, but I see it’s probably helpful that you have a strong support system,” Curtis pointed out as they walked. The two of them were much more appropriately dressed for a nature walk than Michael and Alex, but, in their defense, they just planned to go to the creek again.

“Thank you, Sir,” Alex said before Michael had the chance to, “He deserves it.”

“I think so too,” Curtis said, warm and fatherly and Michael found Alex’s hand and squeezed, “You make a good team. I’ve watched how you know when to let the other do the talking when they’ll be better equipped. That’s very important if you want to climb ranks.”

Alex raised a suggestive eyebrow at Michael who just held onto him tighter. He rubbed the back of his hand with his thumb in hopes it’d help him calm down.

“Alex, when are you set to graduate?”

“This fall, if all goes well. Taking a couple of summer classes to help get there,” Alex said. Curtis nodded and looked over at Michael.

“And you’re set to graduate this semester,” he said‒not a question. Michael nodded evenly, eyes flitting to Alex as if looking for permission. Alex nodded back. “What’s the plan for after college?”

“Well, I already take piano gigs for some of the local schools’ choirs and give a few piano lessons to a few young kids, hoping to expand though. My kind of thing can pretty much go anywhere,” Alex said, knowing it sounded good. No big, painful uproot if he needed Michael in a different branch somewhere across the US. You know‒because to him they were together. Long term.

“And I’m just hoping to keep working for Disionic in any way I can,” Michael said. Alex squeezed his hand in approval.

“For how long, do you think?” Jeannie asked. Michael’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked over at Alex. He mouthed a ‘forever’ at him, watched him gulp, and smiled encouragingly. It was a big and false commitment. Big companies really liked it when they feel you’ve signed your life away to them.

“For as long as I can.”

“And you’d be willing to go to other branches if we needed you? We’ve got a branch in New York and Houston, but we plan to open another at some point in the next five years. And hopefully expanding in some other, more inventive work. Would you be interested in that, Michael?” Jeannie said.

Alex had always been aware that, when it came to things like this, there was an important balance between partners. Curtis wasn’t wrong in saying that a nice balance, knowing who needs to speak when, was important and helpful. Alex had been under the impression that while Jeannie was the warm one who was probably a fantastic hostess and enjoyed it, Curtis was the strong businessman who really only focused on the business part of things. Now, Alex quickly caught up to the realization that, while that may be true, Jeannie called the shots.

For a stupid second, Alex pictured him and Michael like that in a few years.

Funny how he spent his whole life wanting to get away from that environment and 1.5 hookups later, he was ready to sign up for a lifetime of being a good hostess.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Iverson. I-I’m obviously still learning how everything like this works, but I’m a fast learner,” Michael insisted. Jeannie laughed.

“I hope to watch you do that over the next couple of years,” Jeannie said, “Right, Curtis?”

“Nothing’s official yet,” he said, looking over at Michael with a fond smile, “But I do think there’s a more permanent spot for you in our business.”

Again with the squeezing Alex’s hand so hard it nearly hurt.

“After you graduate, of course,” Jeannie tacked on.

“After you graduate.”

“Thank you so much,” Michael said, trying to keep his excitement to the bare minimum.

Alex thought it was adorable though he didn’t know why he was so surprised. Michael had regularly gained favoritism from many, many people throughout his life. Teachers, bosses, baristas, the bus driver that would literally wait for him if he was running a few minutes late. Michael was an easy face to love and he worked hard and he was endlessly kind.

And each moment that passed Alex wondered how he’d been so blind to his own favoritism.

“Oh, and here’s what I wanted to show you,” Jeannie said as they started moving uphill a bit.

They stopped as they got to the edge, a cliff that overlooked a decent-sized body of water. It must’ve been where the little creek they’d sat by yesterday led to. There was a metaphor in there somewhere.

“This is where my Curtis brought me nearly 25 years ago now where he told me everything he wanted to do in the future and asked me to be a part of it,” Jeannie said, looking up at Curtis with a nearly disgustingly fond look. Alex wanted that. “I think it’s a good place to talk.”

“And, speaking of, Alvaro is calling,” Curtis said as his phone started ringing. He gave a polite nod and turned, immediately answering the call in Spanish. Alex was actually pretty impressed with his accent.

“Right, well, let me go make sure he places nice. You two have fun and make sure you come to sit by us at lunch, alright?” Jeannie said, waving goodbye as she followed her husband down the slope.

Michael and Alex didn’t speak as they waited impatiently for them to get out of sight and, hopefully, out of earshot.

“Alex,” Michael whispered, “Alex, I think I’m going to throw up.”

“What, why? Are you okay?” Alex asked, letting go of his hand to rub his back. Michael’s face, finally free of schooling himself for Jeannie and Curtis, was full of pure shock and disbelief. “Hey, this is a good thing.”

“I know it’s a good thing, it-it just feels really real all of the sudden. Like. Really real. Like, I don’t get it levels of real. I’m not supposed to have this,” Michael whispered, shaking his head as he looked out to the water. Alex took a step closer.

“What are you talking about? You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met and you’ve worked your ass off. You deserve this more than anyone,” Alex insisted. Michael shook his head.

“I’m supposed to still be barely scraping by in Roswell. I’m-I’m never supposed to get out. I’m supposed to become another statistic,” Michael said, looking over at Alex with furrowed eyebrows, “I’m only here because you gave me a place to live.”

“Shut up, I didn’t do anything. You would’ve found a way and you would’ve been right here with or without me giving you a place to live,” Alex insisted, “That was purely selfish reasons, too, I didn’t wanna live alone.”

“But Curtis was right. I-I get by because, like, a support system. I get by ‘cause of you,” Michael said. Alex again rolled his eyes.

“You’re giving me way too much credit here. You’ve got Isobel and Max and a whole group of friends. And back in Roswell you’ve got Sanders and Mimi and Arturo who would’ve done anything to see you thrive. And that’s not even counting the tons of people who gave you opportunities. Look, you’re definitely lucky and you could’ve very easily ended up stuck in Roswell without a little of that luck, but you’re also hardworking and smart. Playing the system is a part of this life we’ve been dealt, okay? And you’re playing it well,” Alex explained. Michael took a deep breath.

“You play it better,” he whispered.

“Will you stop making this about me?” Alex laughed, putting his hand on his cheek, “You’ve done great this entire weekend and clearly well enough for the last few months if Khalil talked you up that much.”

Michael stared at him for a long few seconds, silence. He looked tired and overwhelmed in a way he hadn’t this morning like everything had suddenly just hit him. Alex tried not to get worried about what else might’ve just hit him. He leaned forward despite himself and kissed his cheek slowly before pulling back, smiling in the most encouraging way possible.

“What if I don’t want to do it without you?” Michael asked.

Alex blinked once, twice, three times as he processed his words. He didn’t move away.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we make a good team. And… And I like having this with you. I like doing this. I’m comfortable with you and I trust you and I’m not nervous,” Michael said, huffing a soft laugh as he looked away for a moment before looking back, “Everything else is new and scary and way out of my depth and, like, technically you are too, but you don’t feel like it. You feel safe. And I wanna do this with you. Charm the pants off of rich people and then have sex in rooms they pay for. Or in our own bed or whatever. You get the point.”

“Yeah,” Alex whispered, taking a shaky breath and he really thought about just stripping and jumping into the water below. He probably would’ve if he knew it was deep enough. “I think I get it.”

“I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” Michael said, then quickly looked at him with wide eyes, “That’s definitely not me saying our first ‘I love you’, I’m just, like, saying.” Alex laughed, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he nodded. “Thing is, I didn’t realize we’d be a good fit. Or that we’d be too risky and it’d be messy if we broke up. Now… Now I feel stupid for not noticing it before. You literally feel perfect to me, for me. That’s dumb. This is embarrassing. I just wanna kiss you and pretend I’m Robin Hood and do scandalous things like feel you up beneath the table while my boss sits across from us for, like, the rest of my life or whatever.”

“Michael,” Alex laughed, putting his other hand on his other cheek and just holding him in place, “Want me to say something even more embarrassing?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, eyes shining a bit more. He still looked overwhelmed, but it was a bit better.

Alex took a deep breath and looked as serious as he could muster, looking into his eyes.

“Will you be my Valentine?” Alex asked. Michael’s face scrunched up and he laughed, grabbing Alex’s hips and tugging him closer.

“That was disgusting, boyfriend,” Michael said as they stood nose to nose. Alex was giddy with it. He didn’t have to get his hopes up when Michael was already there to meet them.

And maybe Alex had a shot at a future full of it.

“C’mere, boyfriend.”

Alex: something may or may not have transpired

Liz: Oh???

Alex: so, like, that little crush? Very big. Very reciprocated.

Liz: OMG. KNEW IT.

Alex: no you did not

Liz: Michael has literally been giving you heart eyes since before he knew he was queer. I so knew it. Isobel called it first tho

Alex: and you said NOTHING to me???

Liz: As if you’d believe me

Liz: Besides I didn’t know if he knew yet or if he was actually willing to pursue so I wasn’t gonna make it worse

Alex: so rude

Alex: I’m gonna go make out with my boyfriend now and fantasize about being his housewife

Liz: LMAO you could never be a housewife

Alex: no I’d hate it but that’s why it’s staying a fantasy

Liz: HAVE FUN

Alex: absolutely will

#malexcupid21 #malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #verse: pretty little picture

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dayglovv · 4 years

Text

—𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

Guido Mista x Reader

desc: you’ve been there for Mista for as long as he can remember. that’s just what best friends do. he wants more, but is it worth sacrificing the friendship for his feelings?

wc: 5.5k

a/n: based on the songs Fuck Up The Friendship��and Lo Que Tú Me Das! I love the friends to lovers trope, and considering I’ve been wanting to write something super long, this was the perfect opportunity to capture both. likewise, I’ve been a lil sad lately so I hope this cheers you up as it did for me 💕 please enjoy, and if you can, spare a lil extra love!! this bad boy took three days to write.

tags: cunnilingus, fingering, hand job, dirty talk, stretching, premature ejaculation, creampie, minor dom!Reader

tw: not sfw, vomiting, mentions of death and alcohol

HIS MOTHER ALWAYS used to say that burying someone was the living’s way of returning the dead to the Earth. “Back from where they came,” she murmured. “Two meters deep — enough to have the soil hug you.”

He first heard it when his nonno died 11 years ago, and again when Nonna died two years later. To be honest, Guido Mista never understood what his mother was talking about.

Not until he met you.

You were a storm in the simple life that Mista had so carefully crafted. So full of energy, so full of life. You forced him to feel alive. Your laugh sounded like a million bells chiming in his head. Your ideas, for as dumb as they were, always matched his pace.

For as chaotic as you were, it felt as if you had always meant to be a part of his life. Which is why he’s in the midst of dragging you back to his apartment.

“You didn’t have to come to pick me up, yanno,” you slur, the stinging smell of alcohol laced between your words.

“Yeah, I know.” Fuck, when did you get so heavy? He once read that babies can make themselves heavier when they’re having a tantrum, and honestly, that fits at the moment. “But Trish can’t carry you herself, so. Just shut up.”

Trish’s text came about an hour ago.

Trish hey [Name] drank a little too much and I need help :( can you pick us up? ill pay for gas

Needless to say, Mista was out the door 55 minutes ago. He made it to the bar 30 minutes ago. 20 minutes ago did he drop off Trish. And finally, after force-feeding you water and dabbing the sweat from your forehead, he finally made it home with your arm around his shoulders.

You’re wearing the perfume that he bought you for your birthday. Spicy yet warm, something he found so perfect for you the moment he found it. He can remember how wide your eyes opened the moment you saw it, how you threw your arms around him and thanked him over and over again for such a thoughtful gift. He’s happy that you’re wearing it now. But that doesn’t negate how fucking pissed he is at the moment.

That smell permeates his nostrils as he frantically searches for the keys in his pockets. The loud jangling and your heels would surely wake his landlord on the floor below. Mista clicks his tongue at the thought of another scolding — and because of you, goddammit — but he tries to push the idea out of his head. The last thing he needs is another headache.

His front door creaks open, but with a swift kick, he shuts it back close. It slams within its hinges, causing you both to flinch. Shit. Okay, yeah, he’s definitely going to get a scolding in the morning. Though that’s not his priority at the moment.

Mista sits you at his kitchen table. You’re still swaying, even in the chair, but he’s glad that you’re at least conscious. He removes your shoes from your feet, and taking a napkin from the table, he dabs that last bit of sweat from your forehead.

“You’re really stupid, you know that?” Thankfully, you’re functioning, too. That’s why he’s being so mean. Partly because yes, he’s pissed, but also to get it through your thick skull. “Do you even know what time it is?”

“Midnight thirty,” you mumble. “It’s not even that late. You’re just old.”

Mista doesn’t even grace you with a response. He simply heaves a long sigh, then fills a glass of water for you. The water finds itself in front of you, with the gunslinger taking the seat beside you.

But before you can drink it, your hand flies to your mouth, your feet rushing you to Mista’s sink.

He only sighs again.

Nonetheless, he stands up from his seat, following you to the sink. His fingers comb through your hair, pulling strands away from your sweat-soaked face. Your hair bunches together into a ponytail held only by his fist, his other hand running along your back. The warm smell of your perfume is replaced by the foul smell of stomach acid and overpriced mixed drinks.

Christ. Even when you’re vomiting in his sink, you’re beautiful.

...

Wait.

Ew, what the fuck, Mista? Don’t be weird. You’re his best friend! The gunslinger mentally slaps himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

It is true to an extent, though. Even when you’re messy and being so stupidly difficult, he can’t help but be in love with you. He knew that loving you would be difficult. He’s always known. You’re a tempest in his neatly-organized, simple life. Accepting you would make that life so much more complicated.

He’s never been good with words, but with you, he feels as though he’s being buried. Even though it’s suffocating and it’s dark and it’s scary, it’s where he’s always meant to be. Returning to the Earth as his mom used to say. Right with you.

You’ve always been there for him.

Like when Nonna died. He can remember feeling you entwine your fingers with his as they lowered her casket. It wasn’t raining, but it sure felt like it. His tears wouldn’t stop coming. His nose wouldn’t stop running. And for as pathetic as he looked, you refused to leave his side.

And at the end of the day, you gave him the most bone-crushingly tight hug he had ever had in his life. When he asked what your deal was, you only smiled and cupped his cheeks between your soft, little hands.

“To squeeze all the sad out, dummy!”

The least he could do is be there for you, too.

Your drawn-out exhale brings Mista out of his thoughts. You sit up from the sink, your hands gripping its steel rim. You’re okay now, mostly sober. He’s seen you drunk out of your mind enough times to know that you are.

“Here,” he says, reaching back to the table for the glass he brought you. “Drink.”

You do as told. He knows that the water is too cold for your liking, which is evident enough from your flinching at the cool taste. But you still drink it, forcing down the acidity back to your stomach.

You finish the water with a long “Ahhh!” before leaving the glass in the sink. Mista knows that your headache will set in soon, and while it’s too soon to give you any painkillers, he places the medicine on the kitchen counter regardless. Just in case you want them sometime in the night.

“Let’s go lay down,” he continues. He swings your arm around his shoulder once more (not before flushing your mess down the sink drain, of course), and leads you to the humble living room he’s assembled behind his kitchen.

His couch feels plush against your stiff figure. Mista leans you against the armrest, just in case your stomach acts up and you need to vomit again. The last thing he needs tonight is for you to choke and die. After everything that he’s done? Think again.

He stands back, satisfied with his work. “Here, I’m gonna grab you something else to wear. Hold on.” But before he can run off to his closet, he feels something tug on his shirt.

“Wait.” Your voice is raspy and your grip is weak, but it’s enough to catch his attention. “Stay with me.”

“It’ll just be a couple seconds.”

“Please, Guido.”

You never use his first name. Ever since he’s asked you to call him by his last name because that’s what all the cool football players do, you’ve happily obliged. It’s the first time you’ve used his first name since you were kids.

Mista blinks. Nonetheless, he relents, taking his spot next to you.

You return his gesture with a smile. “Here. Let me just…” And with the dip of your head, you’re laying on his chest, your arms wrapped around his figure.

You’ve hugged Mista several times. More times than he can count. That just comes with the territory of being friends for over five years. You’ve hugged him after nights out and many celebrations, but never like this.

He covers his hand with his mouth, his gaze turning to anything but you. “What is with you tonight?”

“Why are you taking care of me?”

Ah. Ignoring his question, he sees. Mista removes his hand from his mouth, placing it on your arm and giving it a squeeze. Keep it cool, Mista. Keep it cool.

“Because we’re friends and that’s what friends do? C’mon, [Name]. You’re smarter than this.”

“But this isn’t the first time.” Your grip tightens. “You’ve never left me hanging. Even for all the stupid things I do, you still find me and take me home. I don’t get it. I’m not worth any of this trouble.”

Not worth any of this trouble? If only you could see his face. His features softened as you said that, his brows knitting and lips forming a tight line. You’re worth all of this, he thinks to himself. I want to do this for you. Because I love you.

He just can’t get himself to tell you.

“Not to me.” He moves his hand up and down your arm. It’s his way of comforting you. He’s never been the best at it, admittedly. But he does try.

“But you called me stupid. Shouldn’t you be spending your time on someone else?”

“Well, yeah, you’re stupid. But your stupid meshes with my stupid, you get me? I wanna help you because I can. I’m not gonna let some other dumbass try to take care of you. That’s my job.”

“But why? No one is forcing you to take care of me.”

That just comes along with my feelings for you. “Like I said, I can and I will.”

“You don’t have to.”

Sure, but I love you. “But I want to.”

“I just don’t get why.”

Because I love you. “Because I love you.”

Wait.

Did he just say that out loud?

“I mean! In a platonic way! The way friends are supposed to love each other!” Mista’s desperately trying to take back everything now. That’s what he gets for narrating everything in his head. Who’s the stupid one now?

“Mista.”

“Love is subjective anyway, right? There are so many ways to see it.”

“Mista.”

“Like, how I love you is definitely not like the romantic kind of love. It’s the 'take care of your friend when they’re stupidly drunk'-type, you know?”

“Mista.”

“What?”

“I love you, too.”

“...What?”

You sit up from his chest so that you can face him. Your legs come up from their places, folding themselves in a cross-cross. Your eyes are watching him carefully, the way that always makes him nervous. He always thought your eye color was beautiful, but seeing them look at him the way he’s always wanted them to… He’s overwhelmed, to say the least.

You try to break the tension by offering him another smile. Mista’s shoulders relax, and he returns your smile the best way he can.

“I love you, too,” you repeat. He watches as you take his hands in yours, just as you did all those years ago. “I’m sorry I got mopey… I just really like you. I have for a while now. I couldn’t comprehend someone like you being there for someone like me and. Um... I wasn’t expecting you to confess, but I’m glad that you did.”

....Is he dreaming? This can’t be real. He has to play back everything to make sure that he heard you right.

So there you are. Sitting across from him. Voicing everything he’s thought about back to him. You love him. He loves you. And he’s wasted years pining over you, when he could’ve had you here, with him, this whole time.

“Are… Are you for real?” A beat. Should he just come clean now? Ah, fuck it. “I've, uh… I’ve thought the same thing about you. But you’re so smart and gorgeous and I’m just… not. I don’t have a lot to offer.”

You don't even hesitate. “You’ve already offered me more than enough. You don’t have to be smart or rich to impress me. You’ve done so much already.”

“I could say the same about you. You really are amazing, [Name].”

“Pfft, and so are you, Guido.”

There you go again, using his first name. You follow this brief moment of intimacy with bringing the gunslinger’s knuckles to your lips, leaving a soft peck on both. He’s dreamed of this moment for so long, to admit to you how much he’s loved you for all these years, only for you to steal his thunder. How typical of you. But he’s not mad. Not any more. Not in the slightest.

And while you might have taken the spotlight on sharing your true feelings, he can at least steal the show.

Mista takes his hand, placing it on your cheek to bring your face to his. He feels you stiffen at his touch, but you return the gesture by cupping his face with your own hands. Within seconds you’re melting, and he can’t help but smile as he kisses you.

Funny how you did the same thing all those years ago — press your palms against his cheeks to squeeze the sad out — only for you to be doing it again. Yet this time there is no sad to squeeze out. Maybe a little, but only because he’s kicking himself for not confessing sooner.

And God, you are just so fucking warm. You make him feel warm. So many years of friendship, so many moments he’s thought about how much he loves you and yet you still manage to give him butterflies. He loves kissing you. And he knows you love it, too. Hearing you hum onto his lips as he slips his tongue in is more than enough of an invitation to press further. He wants more.

“I love you,” he repeats. He moves his hand from your face to the back of your head, supporting your figure as he kisses you. “I love you so damn much.”

His kisses migrate from your lips to your cheek, then to your jawbone and finally, your neck. You take this as your own invitation to press further, moving from your spot and onto his lap. Mista groans as you do this. Fuck, that’s hot. And there’s so much more he can offer you. He knows you’ll let him. You’ve both spent far too long waiting for this moment.

His kisses are light and delicate, as small as the baby’s breath blossoms he’d pick for you as children. He loves feeling the rumble of your moan from your throat — so much so that he’ll do anything he can to get more of it.

So he moves one hand to your ass, while the other gets to work unbuttoning your shirt. He hums as the last button unfurls with a tiny, little pop!, and within seconds, his hand finds itself under your bra.

“Ah… Guido…” His name sounds so beautiful on your tongue. It’s been years since you’ve used it, and he’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to it. He needs more.

“You like that, baby?” He takes your sensitive nipple and plays with it, rolling it between the pads of his fingers. Like everything about you, it’s soft. Warm. So fucking lovely. “Say my name again.”

“That— a-ah. G-Guido!” you manage to force out.

That’s all he needed. Mista takes your breast in his hand, bringing that sensitive nub to his mouth. One benefit of being your best friend is that you’ve told him everything. Including how you never felt spoiled by any of your previous exes. Christ, he’s so excited to change that.

So he laps his tongue over your nipple, suckling it, squeezing your breast with his hand. He’s so desperate to make you feel good. There were so many instances where he knew he could treat you better than your exes. Your moans are indication enough that he’s off to a great start. Such a simple sound, yet something that travels to the pit of his stomach nonetheless.

You taste faintly of salt, likely from dancing with Trish, but Mista keeps licking and sucking and licking and sucking until your nipple is nothing but hot saliva. You whimper as your bud grows sensitive, to which Mista flickers his eyes up to you. Ugh. He forgot how cute you are. He was so focused on making you feel good that he neglected to see your lips pouting — those perfect, full lips — and your eyes shining under his dim overhead light.

He moves to your other nipple, gaze unmoving from your face. Yet when he sees you cry out in delight, how your eyes squeeze shut and your teeth bite at those perfect fucking lips, he has to kiss you again.

You wrap your arms around Mista’s neck as he returns his lips to yours, pulling him close to you. He wastes no time slipping his tongue in once more. It’s messy and it’s clumsy, just as he is, but it’s not like you mind, anyway. He knows you don’t. Everything about Mista is improvised. Yet being around him is what coming home feels like. Welcoming. Right.

He pulls away just for the faintest moment, his dark eyes staring into yours. He blinks. And the goofiest smile emerges on his face. “I love you so fucking much, [Name]. And I promise I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

“Pfft, you’re shit at keeping promises.”

“C’mon! Lemme have this moment.”

And with that, Mista lifts you and places you back onto the couch, facing outward. He wastes no time unbuttoning your pants, and you feel as he drags the fabric from your legs and onto the floor. Oh. Getting hasty so soon?

“What are you doing?” you ask with a small laugh. Mista’s taking off your panties now. “Wait—”

“Keeping my promise. Now shut up.”

Before you can say anything else, Mista runs his tongue over your slit. You respond with another moan, and he can feel that rumble in his stomach again. He’s cursing himself for not being more patient and teasing you more but. Whatever. He’s come this far.

So he takes your legs and swings them over his shoulders. A way to help balance yourself, he reasons, but also to feel your thighs against him. He wraps one arm around your leg to reach the fold above your clit, forcing it upwards to help maximize your pleasure. You find the other hand over your tit, his fingers at work playing with your nipple once more.

Within seconds, Mista’s tongue is over your clit. He starts slow, lapping his tongue in long strokes along the fleshy nub. He’s trying to make up for rushing things, to make you feel as spoiled as you really deserve. He’s surprised that you’re this wet already, though not disappointed. How long had you been in love with him? How long had you waited for this moment?

Feeling you grind against his mouth makes him reason that you’ve been waiting a while. “So greedy,” he teases. He continues with that slow pace, his fingers still at work with your nipple. He wants to electrify you with his touch. If he can make you feel as hot as you do to him, then he knows he’s succeeded.

“Please,” you start. Your fingers wrap around his chestnut curls in a weak attempt to hasten his pace. “I want more.”

“Hm.” He removes his hand from your breast, resting his index and his middle finger on the pad of your bottom lip. “You’ll have to do more if you want more.”

He soon eats his words as he feels you take his fingers into your mouth. Your mouth is so warm and so wet, your tongue swirling around each finger so eagerly and salaciously. Fuck. It’s making his pants tighter. Is that what your pussy feels like? Taking him in with everything you have, opening yourself to be fucked by your best friend?

You look so lewd with his fingers. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you bob your head, running his fingers along your own tongue. Your eyes stare back at him so innocently, so cutely, that he needs to wipe that smug expression off your face.

In one last effort to get him to listen, you release his fingers and say, “I want more, Guido.”

That does it. Mista takes his fingers and forces them into your tight pussy, his tongue running over your clit once more. He curls his fingers against the walls of your opening so perfectly, hitting your spongy insides in a way that makes your stomach twist. More is exactly what he gives you, with his adding another digit to your already-tight opening. He curls and he presses, again and again and again until you feel your head become light.

“Sh-Shit,” you breathe. “I don’t wanna b-be fucked by anyone other than you.”

His breath hitches. You know exactly what he wants to hear. The least he can do is reward you.

“Why d-did I wait so long f-for this?” you continue. “F-Fuck! Just fuck me!”

If you say so.

He curls and he presses his fingers, running them along the walls of your pussy. He feels you clench his fingers, your thighs shaking against his shoulders. It’s the perfect view to see the quick rising and falling of your chest, your head thrown back as he finger fucks you. So beautiful, he muses to himself. And your reactions are all because of him.

Mista’s method is, like all else about him, unpolished but entirely eager. He gets so focused on licking your clit that the movements of his finger pulses become jumbled. It’ll be seconds before he realizes that he’s still inside you, yet when he returns to the motion, that lightheadedness returns. He knows that you’re cursing him for being such an idiot, but he’s your idiot and he’s going to make you finish, anyway.

He tries not to quicken his pace on your clit. Tufts of his hair are held by your perfect hands, a sign he takes as this being the perfect speed. Your grinding against his face is only making him more eager, though. He wants to help you finish so bad. To know that he made you cum. You waited years and years for him to fuck you, and now that he’s here, he wants to give you everything you deserve.

“[Name],” he breathes. His voice is low in a way that you’ve never heard before, his tone rumbling against your clit. “Cum for me.”

And that does it. A sudden wetness pools on Mista’s hand, warm and clear, as he pulls away from you. He loves how your thighs shake around his head. Even more, he loves how your eyes are shut, your mouth breathing one last uneven breath. You look even more perfect than how he imagined.

But he’s not done.

And neither are you.

Your hands rush to the bottom of his shirt, sliding it over his head and tossing it onto his rug. He responds by shimmying your unbuttoned shirt off your shoulders, your bra along with it. His lips find themselves against yours again as you feverishly undo his belt.

“See how good you taste?” he murmurs. You don’t say anything; your only response is your pushing Mista’s pants down his toned thighs. “Goddammit... I’ve waited too long to finally have you.”

You’re smirking as he kisses you. He can feel it. Amongst many other things, he loves knowing everything that you like. Years of whispered secrets and quiet giggles have built up to this. He’s not going to waste it now.

It’s a fact that you acknowledge, too. With his boxers off, you hastily wrap your hand around his shaft. You can’t see anything with his pushing into you, his kisses desperate and warm, but. Dear lord. He feels so full in your hand. Much thicker than any of the other men you’ve been with.

Even still, you can’t tell how big he is. 15 centimeters, at least. Average, but you know it’s going to hurt once he inserts himself into you. It’s a thought that makes you excited; excited enough to quicken your pace in the same way that he so generously did for you.

“A-Ah… [Name]...” His joints are so weak under your touch. And even after all this, he still can’t get rid of the butterflies in his stomach. He’s kicking himself for sounding so needy, but with your eager strokes, he can tell that you don’t mind. There are plenty of other embarrassing things Guido Mista has done in front of you.

“You like being touched by me?” You catch his soft tone immediately. “How many times have you thought of this? How many times did you think of fucking your best friend?”

He swallows. His head is buried in the crook of your neck now. “Too many times,” he admits.

You’re not the only one who knows how to use your friendship to your advantage.

Although you reposition yourself to lay on Mista’s couch, your hand remains unmoving from his cock. Mista follows by placing one leg, bent, on one side of your figure, the other standing to keep himself balanced. Curse this stupidly short couch he found on the corner of the block…

He moans again as your grip tights, twisting slightly around his dick. He places his head in the crook of your neck again, his hot breath against your collarbone. Do you realize what you do to him? He’s had this moment replayed in his mind for so many years, rehearsed everything he would do to you. Yet the moment he gives you control, he becomes a panting mess. How embarrassing.

“Sh-Shit…!” You’re rubbing his tip against your wet entrance now. He’s losing more control. But he has to see what you look like, to know exactly how your features twist as he fucks you properly.

Mista pulls himself from your neck, and. His breath hitches. Not in the same way as before, not pathetic and desperate. He’s in awe. Your pretty eyes stare back at him, begging him to put himself inside you. Your cheeks are still flush from before, and God, it makes you look so damn cute. He loves that your face is still dewy, not because of the alcohol, but because of him. You’re so spent. Yet it’s obvious you want more.

Despite all that, you take the moment from him again. You place his dick at your entrance and pull him toward you, effectively pushing him inside you. Mista’s breath hitches (just the same as before), and while it takes him a moment to compose himself, he takes this as his cue.

He knew that being inside you would be good, but he’d never imagined it’d be this good. You feel so tight around him, so much warmer than he anticipated. Every part of your cunt squeezes his dick in just the right way. It’s evident from his uneven breathing as he thrusts in and out of you.

“I— ah! I-I love you!” you cry. You wrap your arms around his neck in a poor attempt to settle yourself, but let’s be honest, why should you even try? He’s as thick as you thought he was, and even though it stings as he pumps into you, fuck if it doesn’t feel good—

“Goddammit, I love you too...!” He’s never going to get tired of that confession. He could hear it a million times and it would still make his heart race. And it just makes him even harder. You want him. To be fucked by no one other than him. Only him. And he’s going to make sure he’ll be your last.

One hand remains on the couch to keep himself steady, while the other is on your cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking your cheekbone. Everything he’s said is true. Even if he’s pumping into you wildly, there’s still that part of him that wants to take care of you. It’s evident in his movements.

Mista takes this opportunity to deepen his thrusts. Despite his pace, your pussy still clings to him. He can feel it. You’re so moist under him, covering his cock in that same wetness he forced from you as he ate you out. Your cunt makes such lovely sounds as he pushes into you. And while he can feel the coolness from his apartment as he pulls out, he’s not going to deny you those long, fast thrusts he knows you deserve. After all, he wants to take care of you.

“You were made for me,” you breathe, your pretty eyes staring back at him. “S-See how perfectly— a-ah! Shit…!” You pull him closer to you. “See how perfectly we f-fit?”

“Yes, fuck, yes!” He’s babbling at this point now. He hardly has any control over himself. Your wetness, the sounds your pussy’s making, the slap of your ass against his thighs — it’s all so much. His head is spinning.

He’s given everything to you now. He quickens his pace as much as he can, driving his dick into you with such reckless abandon that your eyes roll to the back of your head. That sight alone is enough to make him tremble with excitement, though he tries to quell it as much as he can.

“Fuck me, Guido! Fuck me!”

He can’t take it.

Shit.

Oh, shit.

No no no no—!

It happens so fast. He’s pumping into you, and suddenly, warmth surrounds his cock. He feels it. You feel it, too.

You blink.

Mista blinks.

“Did… did you—?” you start.

“Yep,” he answers.

Guido Mista did, in fact, just finish inside you without any warning.

Well. That does it. He’s ending his friendship with you, effective immediately. Out of all the embarrassing things he could’ve done, did he have to fucking finish in such an embarrassing way!? There were so many things he wanted to do with you still, like make you cum two more times, or finally know how your lips feel around his dick, or—

“Bahahaha! Are you serious?”

Your laughing snaps him out of his thoughts. Of course you’d laugh at his premature finish.

“What?”

“This is just so… in character of you.”

Hold on. Did you expect this to happen? “...What do you mean?”

You don’t respond, only shooting him a look he recognizes as your ‘you know exactly what I mean, don’t play dumb’-look. Your cheeks are still flushed, but he can’t tell if it’s from laughing or from the heated moment before.

Likewise, his own face is beet-red. He’s not just embarrassed, he’s humiliated. He finally has you all to himself, knowing full well that you return his feelings, and this is how he starts it. Way to go, Mista. This must be a bad omen. ...Oh, Christ. What’s going to happen when he has sex with you for the fourth time?

But just as he can so easily read your expressions, you can read his. And before Mista can embarrass himself much further, he feels your palms press against his cheeks. You’re squeezing his face, jutting his lips out in an awfully comical way. You stifle a laugh as you do so, to which Mista raises a brow.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Squeezing the sad out,” you respond.

Ah, yes. Of course. How could he forget?

“Don’t worry about it, dummy,” you continue. You bring his face to yours, placing a kiss on his puckered lips. “I love you, remember? That includes all of you. All your bad jokes, your stinky armpits—”

“My armpits aren’t that stinky.”

“Beside the point. This is one of those moments where I love you most. It’s where you’re the most you.”

He thinks over this for a moment. And then, “You mean that?”

“Obviously. Now help me clean up.”

Where he’s the most him, huh? That… says a lot about his character. He won’t dwell on it, at least not for now. The fact is that he knows you’re telling the truth is enough for him. And the fact that, even after all these years, you’re still there for him even during his most demeaning moments? Well. That says a lot about you.

This isn’t the first time he’ll have you to himself, he admits. Hell, this isn’t even the first time you’ve slept over. There will be many more moments like these, and many more opportunities for him to make it up to you.

For now, he’ll start by helping you off the couch and into his arms. “I love you, too,” he whispers. To you. To himself. There will come a moment where he can tell the rest of the world that [Name] [Surname] is finally his. But for now, all that matters is that you’re here, with him, in his arms and in his heart.

And you hug him back. If he didn’t know any better, it felt like the Earth was embracing him. Bringing him back to where he came, where he always belonged: with you.

#guido mista #jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #golden wind #part 5 #not sfw #vomiting /#alcohol /#mentions of death /

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galvanizedfriend · 4 years

Text

The Wolf Outtake

This is a little outtake, if you will, of The Wolf universe. It actually fits within the post-TW2 headcanons I've been writing to keep myself happy, so somewhere in S3. It's something that would never fit within the actual story because it's pure domestic fluff. lol I wrote this for @recyclingss, baby Eve's number one fan who yells at me when the child doesn't make an appearance and who’s also the biggest cheerleader this story’s ever had. 💖

This is set much later in the future, and you will notice baby Eve is actually more of toddler Eve here, but I've removed any specific context to make it so this would fit into any point of The Wolf post S2E14, I guess.

Summary: Just random KC+baby moment in The Wolf. It's fluffy, domestic, features the child and Klaus' bitter feelings for Bayou wolves. Nobody asked for it, but I figured, after the WEEK we've all had, maybe people could use some fluff? Hope you guys enjoy it! :)

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Klaus doesn't even realize it's morning already until Caroline stirs next to him, making a lazy hum deep in her throat that pulls him out of his idle reverie. He blinks his surroundings back into focus; the fluorescence that had been filtering in through the windows last time he checked has now been replaced by warm sunlight. He didn’t even notice so much time had gone by.

Caroline rolled onto her side and was quickly lulled into blissful sleep after their late-night exertions. Klaus was distracted by the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest for a long time until his mind was ensnared by its usual culprits, thoughts trapped in the latest batch of torments and woes to take over the Mikaelsons’ lives.

When Caroline opens her eyes and offers him a slow smile, Klaus feels himself touch ground again.

"'Morning," she slurs in that husky voice, still thick with sleep.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he replies with a short grin.

Caroline yawns as she stretches out her body under the thin sheet covering her modesty.

"Did you sleep at all?" she asks, blinking sluggishly at him.

"I'm well-rested, if that's what you're asking."

"It's not." Caroline props herself up on one elbow to stare levelly at him. Some of that drowsiness in her eyes dissipates, disappointment panging through him for bringing her back to the harshness of reality so fast. This is why, sometimes, especially on those not-so-rare nights when he ends up not getting any sleep, he'd rather not stay in bed. It allows the reprieve that slumber offers Caroline to last a little while longer. "Is it about Elijah?" she inquires, a knowing look on her face.

Klaus' eyes wander away from hers. "It's about everything," he states vaguely, but not untruthfully.

Caroline hums unconvinced. "While I know you don't need to sleep, I also know it spells nothing but trouble when you can’t. It’s never good when you spend the whole night thinking."

"Well, not the whole night," he says with a suggestive leer. "I did spend a good portion of the time engaged in far more pleasant activities."

She rolls her eyes at him, but her smile is more than a little satisfied when she leans into him. "You're not as smooth as you think, Mikaelson."

"I beg to differ." Caroline chuckles, shifting under the sheets to press herself against his side, placing a kiss on his shoulder, then his neck, his jaw. Klaus snakes a hand around her back, pulling her closer still, feeling the familiar stirrings of heat in his underbelly. "Shall I prove my point?" he all but purrs.

Caroline smirks against the corner of his mouth, her palm coming to rest on his chest. Klaus covers her hand with his, angling his face to take her mouth into a kiss. Her breasts pressing against his skin sends a tingle shooting through his body, and his other hand is already sliding down her spine, ready to guide her to straddle him, when lively conversation in the next room makes them pause.

"Oh-oh," Caroline mutters. "I guess that means Mr. Wolfy is up early today."

Klaus lets out a disappointed sigh.

Eve doesn't cry so much when she wakes up anymore. Now, she either stays quietly in her crib until someone sees to her, or she starts playing with her toys. A social butterfly like her mother, she loves to engage in complex conversations with that hideous stuffed wolf Jackson gave her and her absolute favorite toy, the wooden knight Klaus carved for Rebekah when they were children.

When he started to wake up to the sound of her talking to herself, he became worried, thinking maybe she was seeing things they weren't - which, in New Orleans, could mean a number of horrifying deals. But Caroline assured him that it is perfectly normal for young children to talk to inanimate objects, especially one who lives exclusively amongst adults.

Apparently, it's good exercise for her imagination, or something.

When Klaus is watching her, he will make a point to take part in her debates, always highlighting Mr. Knight's grandeur compared to Mr. Bog Scum.

"Sweetheart, this filthy dog here is the enemy. He wants to shroud you in flannel, carry you away to the swamp and bore you to sleep. Mr. Knight is here to save you from this stinky animal's claws."

He's convinced one day she'll understand what he means.

What’s most troublesome, however, is that Eve has started to attempt to climb out of her crib on her own. They always lock the other door to her bedroom when she's asleep, but the door connecting her room to Caroline's is always left unlocked for safety reasons. One of these days, Klaus thinks, their little wolf is going to catch mommy and daddy in very compromising positions. The idea mortifies him, especially because he and Caroline can get a tad carried away. They are a hybrid and a near-hybrid, after all. Too much energy and whatnot.

"No rest for the wicked," Caroline speaks around a sigh before peeling away from him. Klaus watches her naked form with wistfulness as she climbs out of bed, his prospect of a lovely morning enterprise disappearing alongside the shape of her beautiful breasts as she shrugs on a fleece robe.

Caroline vamps off to the en suite bathroom to freshen up a bit and then follows to Eve's room.

"Good morning, sweet cheeks!" she greets their daughter sunnily. "Good morning to you, too, Mr. Wolfy!" Oh, for goodness' sake, Klaus curses inwardly. "And Mr. Knight!" Much better.

Minutes later, Caroline returns with Eve, comfortable in fresh diapers, right on her heels, carrying Mr. Inconvenient and Mr. Knight.

When she sees Klaus, she takes off towards the bed, her little legs getting more and more agile by the day. He pulls the sheets and covers up to his chest while she tries to hoist herself up. With ease, using just one hand, Klaus lifts her up and puts her sitting on his stomach.

"Good morning, my littlest wolf," he says. "Where's my kiss?"

His daughter leans down and smacks a loud kiss on his cheek, and then holds Mr. Fleabag close to him for a kiss as well. Klaus makes a face. "Not the dog, Eve."

"Seriously?" Caroline says with a bored air about her. "You're antagonizing a stuffed animal now?"

"This thing is a health hazard."

"That thing has a cute little name, Mr. Wolfy, and your daughter loves him."

"I refuse to treat a swamp dog as though it were a gentleman. Besides, I'm sure she loves Mr. Knight way more, don't you, love? Where's Mr. Hero?" She shouts something that sounds like Miter Nigh before pushing it onto Klaus' face. He cracks a proud smile at her. "There you go." He attacks her with tickles, and Eve bursts with sweet laughter.

Caroline shakes her head at him, but he notices she's quite clearly biting back on a smile. "You're impossible."

"I’m quite possible, I assure you," he replies smoothly. "Where are you going?" he asks when she starts tying her hair into a ponytail and taking clothes from her drawers.

"Running with Marcel."

"Oh, for goodness' sake," he protests. "Can you believe this, Eve? It's not even seven in the morning and your mother is willingly stepping out of the house to run. I sometimes fear she might be a psychopath."

She scoffs loudly. "You would know, wouldn't you?" While she walks by him to go into the en suite, she slaps him lightly across the legs. "Stop telling my child that I'm a psycho, psycho."

"How else am I supposed to explain this insanity? What kind of person runs for pleasure when there is an infinite array of far more gratifying activities to invest your energy into? Just now we were about to -"

"Not in front of the small child, Klaus!" she chides from the bathroom.

"She doesn't know what daddy is talking about, do you, love?" Eve giggles while he lifts her up above him, holding her like a flying superhero. "Blissfully clueless."

Caroline steps back into the room, already in her exercise gear. Klaus lets out an infinitely despondent sigh. He would love nothing more than to get her out of those.

"It's inappropriate conversation to have in front of the toddler," she remarks, putting on the smartwatch she bought recently to exercise with and measure her sleep patterns or whatever the bloody hell that is. She showed him all of this gizmo’s functionalities, swearing it’s the best thing ever invented by human minds. Klaus thinks it’s adorable, however incomprehensible, that someone with such close ties with the supernatural world would still be so impressed by technology. There’s literally nothing that cannot be sorted through magic. How is a watch that counts steps supposed to awe you once you’ve seen someone brought back from the dead? Caroline’s attachment to her humanity goes way beyond her empathy. "Besides, it was gonna be a quick activity because I'd go meet Marcel anyway,” she adds after a beat.

"I can make you see stars in five minutes," he leers, a smirk growing on his face.

Caroline whips her face at him with what is clearly an attempt at outrage but turns into something else when she can't hold her own smile. She can't deny him when his point was proved just the night before. Several times, in fact.

"Shut up," she retorts simply. "Can you give her breakfast? I left chopped fruits in the fridge. You can wait about an hour after the bottle and give it to her as a little treat - not Fruit Loops."

"She loves that thing."

"Of course she does, it's pure sugar. That's exactly why we don't let her have it all the time. She needs to eat real fruits."

Klaus rolls his eyes, sitting up in bed and putting the baby beside him. "Honestly, sweetheart, your mother sometimes..."

Caroline narrows her eyes at him. "You really love to make yourself out to be the cool parent, don't you?"

"I don't have to make myself out to be anything, love. I am the parent who doesn't deny her the little joys of sugary treats. If that makes me cool, then you’ve only got yourself to blame."

"You're the parent who'll spoil her rotten, that’s what. Let's see how you'll feel when she's 16 and her boyfriend is climbing the balcony in her room in the middle of the night because she never learned how to take a no."

"Oh, I would love for her suitors to climb her window in the middle of the night. It’ll be the last thing they do,” he says, smiling innocently at Eve.

“You’ll be such a ray of sunshine when she starts dating.”

“As per usual," he says with a bite of arrogance. "Hold the child so I can get decent, will you?"

Caroline picks Eve up and keeps her looking firmly the other way while Klaus flashes out of bed and into the bathroom. He hears Caroline teasing her with “Where did daddy go?” and laughing at what he knows is Eve's extremely confused but astonished face. She thinks they're magicians. It's one of her favorite things, to watch as Klaus makes full use of his vampire speed to all but vanish right before her eyes. Modern technology has got nothing on him.

There's something extremely heartwarming about his daughter's innocence. One day, she'll be old enough to understand why he can do the things he does. When that day comes, Klaus will cease to be a creature of magic and wonder, to become what he truly is: darkness made flesh.

He has never been ashamed of what he is, hardly ever had any qualms with filling the villain shoes, quite glad to do it, in fact, but he suddenly finds himself dreading the day when his child will figure out what it means to carry the Mikaelson name. When their family’s history will weigh down on her shoulders as it does on theirs.

While making people cower in fear at the mere sound of his name has brought him an obscene amount of satisfaction and pride over the centuries, Klaus has to admit he's fascinated by the pure sparkle in his child's eyes. She's the first human being in a millennium who does not see even a fraction of monstrosity in him, no shadow, no taints, no mortal flaws. Not yet, anyway. All she sees is a funny man who makes her laugh and can hold her up with his finger, tells her stories about evil werewolves and keeps her safe and that's enough for her to adore him. Sometimes, he feels unworthy of such love. As though he's a fraud, deceiving his own daughter and taking advantage of her innocence.

It still astonishes him that he should ever be capable of making something as pure and bright as that little girl. In a thousand years, Klaus Mikaelson has only ever brought misery and pain into this world. Eve is the first genuinely good thing he's ever done. Then, of course, she inherited all of that from her mother, who holds herself open for compassion and kindness even though she is herself in a symbiotic existence with her own beast. Caroline has taken control of her darkness in ways Klaus doesn't think he's ever seen a vampire as young as her do before. She truly is extraordinary, and every day he hopes, from the bottom of his withered heart, that Eve will turn out to be every inch Caroline's daughter more so than his.

Klaus can still smell last night’s sex all over himself, so he takes a quick shower and puts on a pair of denims and a shirt and vamps back to the room again, just to surprise Eve. She gasps when he materializes next to her, flinching, and then starts laughing like a little maniac, reaching out to him.

"Remember," Caroline says as she lets Eve slide over to Klaus' arms. "Bottle, fruits. No Fruit Loops. I'll tell your other child you said hi."

"A child who enjoys running has clearly learned nothing from me," he grumbles. “Hopefully I’ll do a better job with this one.”

“Start by not feeding her Fruit Loops,” Caroline remarks with a grin before she smacks a loud kiss on Eve's cheek and then one on his.

When she’s gone, Klaus turns to look at his little wolf, watching him with those dark blues of hers as though she's studying her father. Sometimes he wonders if toddlers know more than they let on.

"Do you want to do magic?"

"Yes!" she practically screams, her face splitting with a wide, toothy grin.

"Get ready, then. Are you ready?" She gives him an exaggerated nod. "Keep your eyes open. One, two..." And then he flashes out of the room with her.

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✨ Thanks for reading! :) If you’ve enjoyed this silly thing, please drop me a comment! Your reblogs are also much appreciated to help this reach more people. ✨

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fic #kc fanfiction #kc fic #kcfic #klarolinefic #yokan writes #The Originals rewriting #is this me writing fluff again?#fluff with BABY?#why yes it is #the wolf outtake #klaus x caroline #+ child

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minyoonmeme · 4 years

Text

Normalcy of the Pretty Posse

Chapter 2

Word Count: 3708

Pairing: ??? x reader

Description: Stupid Jeongguk and his cute sweaters and pretty posse of hyungs.

Genre: again like 90% fluff, 5% humor, and another 5% of reader literally forgetting how to function a little

(Some rambling because I have no life: here is part 2! I honestly didn’t expect any one to find part 1 so??? thank you guys so much. I’ve missed writing lately and this has been such a good outlet for me. I hope you guys like it.)

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masterlist

“Hyung…” Jeongguk skids to a stop just before one of the sets of speakers. A whine leaves his mouth as he puffs out some air before tossing his bag haphazardly against a random speaker. “I messed up. Big time.” His legs, just slightly too long for the childish behavior, fold underneath him awkwardly as he flops against the dusty linoleum floor.

Hoseok looks down at his younger friend as he folds another chair and places it against the wall. “Messed up as in pissing your pants again like that one time Freshman year or getting another C on a test?” Hoseok only laughs when Jeongguk throws a pen from his pocket at him. Jeongguk’s pout settles deeper on his face as his eyebrows furrow and Hoseok knows that whatever is bothering Jeongguk is something a little more closer to the heart than pissing his pants at a frat party after chugging an entire keg upside down.

“Hyung, I’m serious.” Jeongguk closes his eyes and wraps his sweater tighter around his body as he rolls on his left side to look at Hoseok. “You know that girl that dances in the back in your Thursday workshops?”

“I’m gonna need you to be a little bit more specific, Guk. There are a lot of girls who come here.” Hoseok is only kidding, of course. He and all of Jeongguk’s hyungs know of his crush on the girl who comes every Thursday to his workshops. Jeongguk had originally only come to the workshops because Hoseok was nervous no one was going to come, but that was 2 months ago and despite the sign up list being full every week, Jeongguk still came despite being a little bit more advanced than the beginner classes he attended. Hoseok had offhandedly mentioned that Jeongguk tended to glance at the back, at a particular girl, during another one of their game nights and Jeongguk, wine drunk off of two bottles, giggled as he explained his small crush on a girl who attended Hoseok’s beginner class.

“Hobi-hyung, she’s not a beginner like have you seen her dance? She just looks so pretty and her hair is just so..” Jeongguk giggles as he wraps a finger around his hair. “...fluffy after she dances.” A small hiccup escapes him as he finishes his glass. “It’s so cute.” Jeongguk, in silent awe, squeals a little into his glass, one of the many stolen from his favorite bar, as he scrunches into a ball and bangs his knee against the table. A smile never leaves his face as he continues to giggle into the fogging glass.

Hoseok’s heart strings tug at the fond memory he has of his younger friend and decides to leave putting away the rest of the furniture to the workers who litter around him. Jeongguk lays his head against his knee when he sits next to him. “Tell Hyung what happened, Gukie. It can’t be worse than vomiting on the poor girl…..” Hoseok grimaces before giving Jeongguk a look. “You didn’t vomit on her right?”

Jeongguk shakes his head no before huffing. “I asked her friend last week if (Y/N) was okay since she hasn’t been coming and I don’t know I panicked because like what if I missed my chance to even talk to her. A-and I saw her outside and I walked over and like spoke to her?” Jeongguk knocks his head a couple of times against Hoseok’s knee as he relives the moment in his head. “I was so nervous and sounded so stupid. She probably thought I was stupid and weird for coming up to her. What kind of person asks a stranger if they plan on coming back to some stupid dance class. She probably thinks I’m a creepy ass stalker who watches her dance every week.”

Hoseok runs his hand through Jeongguk’s hair for comfort as the younger beats himself up mentally. “Are you saying my dance classes are stupid?” It’s meant to be a joke, but Jeongguk shoots his head up and sputters out incomprehensible words. “Guk, I’m kidding. I know you don’t think my classes are stupid, you’re just frustrated at yourself because your first interaction with your crush didn’t go as well as you planned.” Jeongguk flops back down against Hoseok’s thigh as he groans. Hoseok just smiles softly at him wondering how Jeongguk, handsome and all, was someone inept at talking to a simple girl.

“I may have also lied and told her that you have me here to help out with teaching.” It’s muffled against his leg, but Hoseok hears every word.

“So you chose to lie, for what?”

“I panicked! I told her that her coming helped me with the others since she’s obviously experienced. How else was I supposed to explain that I, a complete stranger, noticed she was gone for two weeks? She’ll think I’, watching her or something.”

“That’s all you ever do, Jeongguk. And besides, I didn’t even notice she was gone and I read the roster every night.”

Jeongguk smacked his hyung’s hip closest to him as he huffed. “You’re not helping Hyung! Even if you didn’t notice she wasn’t here, she probably thinks I’m a stalker now. A big stupid stalker who can’t even look her in the eyes. I’m gonna be alone forever!”

Hoseok wanted to laugh at him, but decided that he needed to play the role of the helpful caring hyung for now. He’ll let the others clown him later once he retells everything to them tonight. “Gukie, you’re not gonna be alone forever. You’re smart and stupidly handsome. I don’t think you should’ve lied to her, but it’s not life or death, so you should be able to save yourself from this. How about you let your hyung help you a little tonight? Let me work my magic.”

“You would help me?” Jeongguk throws his arms around his waist and gives a tight squeeze.. Hoseok grimaces from the too tight hug and the dust from Jeongguk’s sweater falling onto his new clothes. He ignores both in favor of giving Jeongguk’s back a few solid rubs. “You’re the best, Hobi-hyung.”

“You’re on your own after tonight though, Gukie. No more help from your one of kind, amazing, most handsome Hyung.”

“Jin-hyung isn’t here though?’

Hoseok scoffs and pushes Jeongguk off of him as he cackles from the floor. “Go open the doors you ungrateful brat.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Tonight had been… interesting to say the least.

Yoonjin had chosen to nudge me every time she thought Jeongguk had glanced in my direction resulting in a dull throb in my ribs.

“Don’t look but he’s looking again… Oh my god, I said don’t look!”

“You said that the last 4 four times and every time I look back he’s literally looking at Hoseok-shii.” I huffed and rubbed at my right side. Yoonjin has always been stronger than she looks. “Yoonjin, if you ram your boney ass elbow into my ribs one more time I will drop kick you into the wall.”

Yoonjin blinked at me before rolling her eyes. “He keeps looking away. Just trust me why don’t you! Why would I joke about this.” I rolled my eyes and refocused on Hoseok as he explained some of the footwork again. House dance had never been my speciality.

“I don’t know, maybe you like to see me suffer.”

“I’m literally trying to help you get a man.”

“No, you’re trying to break my ribs.”

9 o’clock rolled around sooner than I expected as Hoseok wrapped up his lesson. Many of the students who endured the class in its entirety were shuffling to the walls of the room where their water bottles had long ago since turned lukewarm. Hoseok was not one for lots of water breaks. Used to long durations of exercising and cardio, I had chosen to hang back and stretch out while Yoonjin made small talk with the others around her. I held in my laugh as she shot me a look or two of ‘what the fuck is going on’ and ‘please help me’ while talking to the animated girl with sweat drenched pink ponytails. Figuring that whatever kind of conversation she was wrapped up in was payback enough for the bruising I was sure to have on my ribs for the next week, I chose to let her suffer.

“You know I think you’d do a lot better in a higher level class.” There stood Jung Hoseok in all his beautiful glory as I attempted to straighten my legs from their lunge. I tried to blame the jittery feeling settling in as adrenaline from the cardio, but I knew my body was just buzzing from having him stand so close. Did he even sweat? How did he manage to smell like fucking flowers after dancing? Damn Jeongguk and his pretty posse.

“Uh sorry?”

Jung Hoseok smiled and offered a hand to me. I smiled back, although less brightly, and hoped my hands were not as sweaty as the rest of my body. “I just meant that you seem a little more experienced than what this class has to offer. It’s a shame to see talent be wasted on some basic combinations.” His eyes took a quick over my body and I flushed at movement. If he looks at me like that more time, I will be internally combusting.

“I-uh used to dance growing up.” My hands gripped my shirt as Hoseok proceeded to make eye contact. Does he have to be so nice and beautifully intimidating? A deadly combo for my poor nerves. Do I look away? Is it rude to keep eye contact? Would a wink be appropriate for a first conversation?

“How long did you take lessons?”

“Like 14 years maybe? My mom tried to put me in baseball like my brothers when I was 4, but after I started spitting and grabbing my pants before I batted she decided it probably wasn’t a good influence to be surrounded by all boys at home and during practice.” My lips pressed together as I pinched my face in horror. Oh god, why did I say that? Hoseok on the other hand was having a jolly good time as dropped his jaw and choked in a fit of laughter and I screwed my face shut in embarrassment. “I don’t know why I said that. Oh my god, please forget I just said that! I’m just nervous and I say stupid things when I’m nervous. I’m an idiot and I just don’t know how to shut up sometimes.”

Hoseok continued to laugh as I covered my overheating face with my hands wishing I had grabbed Yoonjin and left before we both got wrapped in unwanted conversations. “Y-you’re too cute. Oh god, I can totally see it!” Hoseok laughed for a few more breaths before settling down into giggles.

“Hyung...? Is everything okay?” Jeongguk shuffled over with both his and Hoseok’s bags as he glanced between Hoseok and I.

Hoseok giggled a few more times before accepting his bag from Jeongguk. “I was just just asking if...” Hoseok titled his head before looking back at me. “I forgot to ask for your name actually, I’m sorry.”

Not used to having 2 out of 7 members of Jeongguk’s Pretty Posse’s attention on me made me flush even warmer. “No worries, I’m (Y/N).”

Hoseok smiled at me before swinging his bag on his shoulder and went back to addressing Jeongguk. “I was just complimenting (Y/N) on her dancing. We could do with another dancer on the team don’t you think Jeongguk?”

“We could?” Jeongguk bugged his eyes out a little at his hyung before throwing a confused look his way.

Hoseok raised his eyebrows and tiled forward a little bit. “Of course, we could Gukie! Remember we had that talk earlier about adding a new member? Junhoo graduated last semester, so we don’t have anyone to fill his spot.” Jeongguk stared at Hoseok wondering who the hell Junhoo was and when this conversation happened. Hoseok starred a little harder before-Oh! “How about you let your hyung help you a little tonight.”

“Yes! You’re totally right Hobi-hyung! (Y/N), you would love our dance team! You’d fit right in too!” Jeongguk bounced on his heels a little as he turned to me. Back on was the sweater he had been wearing earlier. Damn. The sweater paws have returned too.

“Isn’t it all guys? How would that even work? I’m literally like half Jeongguk’s size.” My glance danced between Hoseok and Jeongguk as I bit my lip.

“Where there is a will, there is a way (Y/N). And I’m sure you won’t pick up any bad habits this time (Y/N). We’re all mannered and hygienic, so no worries!” My jaw dropped as Hoseok poked fun at my previous story and raised his eyebrows at me. That little-

I scoffed and stomped my foot to turn his direction fully. “I wasn’t even talking about that! I can’t believe you! I let one thing slip and you use it against me!” I jutted my lips out in a slight pout as I crossed my arms.

Jeongguk deflated a little as he watched Hoseok’s teasing glance and my pouting. “Am I missing something?”

“No!”

“Yes!”

My finger found a place on his chest as I leaned closer. Are those pecs…? “Jung Hoseok, you keep your mouth shut!” Those are definitely pecs.

“I will if you join our team.”

My mouth fell open as I removed my finger with an inaudible gasp. “I see you play dirty, Jung.” I tsked at him before turning to Jeongguk. “Get your hyung before he embarrasses me more and I combust.” Jeongguk blinks as I give him my sole focus and nods softly, most likely lost on what’s happening.

“So if that is a yes?”

Defeatedly, I face Hoseok and shrug my shoulders as I grab my bag from Yoonjin as she approaches. “You’re in luck. I was actually looking to join something a little more advanced dance wise. My body misses dancing despite how old it makes my bones feel.”

“So.. is that a yes?” Jeongguk reiterates as he bounces forward a little, eyes wide as his hair flops a little. I smile a little as my heart flops along with his hair. I give Hoseok a quick glance and will the oxygen to return to my lungs and brain at the focussed look he gives me.

“It’s a no.” My heart sinks at Jeongguk’s sudden smile. “Not that I wouldn’t join; I totally would! It’s just I have to find a music production mentor for my Music Composition and Engineering class and I’m basically meeting with strangers every other day until one decides to take me under their wing. I really need this class to graduate and I can’t afford any breaks until I find someone.” My hands are flying everywhere as I try to make my rejection lighter on Jeongguk.

Jeongguk nods a little and licks his lips as he gives Hoseok a quick glance. Hoseok seems to understand whatever is going on in his head and tilts his head toward him with a hard look as a warning to think before you speak, you love sick idiot. Jeongguk, with a heart often bigger than his brain, ignores his hyung and blurts out, “Yoongi-hyung is a music producer! I can introduce you to him and see if he’d be willing to mentor you.”

Hoseok closes his eyes and drops his head forward into his hands. Dammit Jeongguk.

I blink a few times before trying to stop my smile from spreading. “Are you sure? I mean I’d really appreciate it of course, but I know it might be a lot to ask. I’m also a total stranger, so you don’t have to at all!” My mouth suddenly feels dry as I lick my lips. “It would be really great though! Some of the guys I meet are total creeps and I don’t know how many coffees I drink everyday while one of them tries to feel me up.” I force a laugh to lessen my discomfort and hope it comes across as less awkward than I feel.

Jeongguk looks to Hoseok after I’m done exhausting my voice and they seem to share a meaningful look before Hoseok reaches into his pocket. “Here, give me your number. Jeongguk and I will talk to Yoongi-hyung and see what we can do. He might be willing to meet with you and see if you guys ‘vibe.’”

My eyes flick up to meet his as I smother another smile. My attempts fail and I grab his phone and giddily put in my number. “You guys are the best! I promise to join you guys if I can resolve this whole mess.” My grin widens as I think about not having to stifle through conversation after conversation every other day in some overpriced cafe with another self employed music producer as they critique every layer of my pieces. “Do guys like cookies? I’m totally baking you guys some cookies as thanks!”

“Are you ready to go (Y/N)?”

“Yoonjin! We’re going to be baking cookies for Hoseok and Jeongguk!” Yoonjin furrows her eyebrows as she loops her eyebrows with mine.

“We are?”

“We are! Is chocolate chip okay?” I offer her no other explanation as I ask Jeongguk with a sweet smile. These pretty boys were coming in handy and so were my depressive episodes’ baking habits.

“Chocolate-chip sounds great.” Jeongguk licks his lips as he feels his heart rate border an unhealthy pace. “Hyung, we-uh should probably head out and go pick up your package.”

“My package?” Hoseok finishes adding a baseball bat and a flower emoji to his new contact before catching the look Jeongguk is sending him. “Oh! Yeah, uh, I’ll have Jeongguk text you about Yoongi-hyung. It was nice meeting you (Y/N), get home safely!”

Yoonjin and I watch them both leave the room before facing each other.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I honestly have no fucking clue, but I think I’m gonna die. Please check my pulse.” Yoonjin feels at my neck and sighs.

“Nope, still alive. Maybe next time though.”

I re-loop our arms and pull her out of the emptying room. “Come on we have to go get Chaebin from the library before she has another aneurysm over her homework. I’ll fill you in on the way there.”

Yoonjin shrugs and follows along. “I hope you know that if this progresses into some dramatic fated love story I will be living vicariously through you.”

“I expect nothing less.”

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kindness-bliss · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings Ch. 7

Timothy Thatcher x OC

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Tim looked over at her discreetly he witnessed her trying to open a jar and cleaned his hands on his already stained shirt “I got that for you” “And I got this for you” she said as she went into her small closet in the living room and pulled out a flannel shirt “It’s my dads, I don’t wanna see you in a bloody dried up t shirt as we make dinner” He nodded quickly as he took off his shirt and unbuttoned on the one she gave him Maya blushed as she grilled her ground turkey and noticed how chiseled he was, his upper chest having the perfect amount of body hair and peaks, his biceps bulging out nicely but not overly muscular or anything like that “It fits” Tim grinned as he showed her “Not that bad on you” she admits with a small grin “Plaid is definitely your style, I like it on you” “I-I don’t deserve you being so nice to me” he said quietly “Maya, I won’t ever be able to stop saying sorry to you ever, know that. I’m probably gonna say sorry to you for as long as I know you” “Tim, when’s your birthday ?” Maya asked suddenly as she looked at him “I know it’s 1983 but month ? What month ?” “March….March 17th” he answered slowly “why ?” “Oh my god you’re a Pisces, suddenly everything makes sense wow” she nodded as she laughed “Gosh you fit it to a T, you’re a water sign” “What does that have to do with anything ? A water sign ? What the hell is that ?” Tim asked confused as he put his cutting board down “It’s your sign Tim” she chuckled “Your sign is a Pisces which makes sense because they’re...well you are considered to have a sign that is known for its over sensitivity, self-pitying but also very selfless and very accepting” “Oh” he said softly “well I guess yeah, kinda is me. My mother says it’s because I’m an only child and never got to experience things other children got at my age since I also stayed with my grandmother a lot. I think that made me highly sensitive” “You call it highly sensitive, I call it highly aware” she grinned as she took the carrots and celery from him and added them to a pan to saute Tim observed as sat on a stool by her “what are you making ? It looks kinda complicated honestly” “Bolognese” Maya says “Though I’m kind of cheating because I’m using sauce from a jar, but I promise it’ll be good” “Oh” he nodded “I don’t cook much honestly, I only have ever made chicken or ham and it’s typically without seasoning. Same with my rice, I stick to bland foods for the most part. I broke my diet when we went to that Korean BBQ place” Tim said softly as he reached over and cut up onion for her “Glad I got you to change things up for a bit, though you ghosted me and acted like a child afterwards and ruined me introducing you to better places” she giggled “I’m gonna age myself here a bit but um, what’s ghosted ?” he asked with genuine interest as he looked down at her “It means ignore, basically a millennial way of saying you ignored me” she answered back “Ah I see, I like that...ghosted. I’m adding that to my vocabulary” he nodded as he repeated the word under his breath as he chopped “Gosh he’s cute” Maya thought to herself as he stood only inches away from him, their arms basically touching as she sauteed. She made sure she stayed in close distance as she cooked looking around as silence began to take over “Since you were a dick to me, you have to be really nice to me now like really nice” she said with a smile “I will do whatever you want or need me to do” Tim smiled at her with his dimple popping out more “Kiss me” she whispered nervously as she looked into his eyes “Like...like right now ?” he asked nervously “o-okay...I’m not that good at it though and my beard is gonna scratch, my lips are kinda dry too and-” he stopped blubbering when he felt her soft lips gently press onto his as she carefully put his hands on her waist as he leaned in more and placed hers on his cheeks Maya grinned up at him afterwards as she gently wiped his lips and put ice back on his face “go sit with this on while I finish here and by the way, you’re a good kisser” He chuckled as nodded and sat on her couch “well thank you, haven’t heard that one in like 5 years at least”. Tim sat quietly as he iced his face trying to make sense of what had just happened. Just 6 hours ago he had told her horrible things and now here was having just had a make out session in her kitchen as they cooked dinner together. Tim looked around as he picked up magazines she had on her coffee table and looked through them smiling when he realized they were all her covers or features. One in particular catching his eye, a feature in a parenting magazine where she was holding a baby on her lap. “Last year” Maya grinned “I typically don’t do those kinds but they needed a model last minute and I happened to be in the area and went in. It was fun, kids and babies were great to work with honestly and now what I expected. That little one stole my heart, made me think I wanted my own for a bit” “You think about kids ? Not in a weird day of course, just since like me you’re an only child” she asked “I mean yeah, sometimes” he admits quietly “Granted I really thought I was gonna stop wrestling when I was like 30 and settle down and have that white picket fence life everyone else had but clearly life has passed me by. But I’ve had some other good things in life, experiences and memories not everyone has had in life. I’m not one to complain, you ?” Tim asked as he looked at her “Sometimes I want 1, sometimes none and other times I want like 5” Maya chuckled

“5 ?” Tim laughed “That’s a basketball team right there, Jesus that’d be feeding an army daily” “Which is why then I think maybe not having them at all would be more beneficial” she laughed “I’ve got time to think about it thankfully, like 5 more years” “Enjoy your youth, and your job. It’s interesting, really it is Maya” Tim says genuinely “You’ve been to some amazing places, you have experiences most won’t get and you’re only 25. It’s amazing truly” Maya grinned at him as she fixed the ice pack on his face “I appreciate that, but your face will appreciate this ice way way more”. Damn, kissing him must’ve been the best thing she felt in ages, she could tell he wanted it just as bad as she did yet kept his usual calm demeanor. She came out of her daze as she heard her her cell phone buzz, muttering quietly as Marcel’s pet name appeared “Dinner tomorrow is still on ?” “Yeah….but let’s meet somewhere, I think I’m ready to tell Tim the truth” Maya sighed as his name quickly appeared on her screen and declined his facetime requests and calls immediately “Answer me please, Maya just don’t do it today please. Let’s meet tomorrow and we can figure something out...please ?” “Fine, I won’t do it tonight but I’m doing it soon, I like him a lot and I’m not gonna keep secrets from him Marcel, and neither should you. I’ll text you tomorrow morning” she sent as she put her phone on silent and set their plates up She went to the bathroom as she wiped her residue makeup off her face and put her hair up in a ponytail to fresh up, applying some perfume lightly as she looked herself over and left the bathroom “Oh” she whispered as she saw Tim sleeping on her couch, giving soft snores as his arms were crossed on his chest. Even in his sleep he wasn’t relaxed, it kinda looked like he was just closing his eyes to her and waiting to spook her any second. She contemplated waking him up for a second and went to touch his shoulder, but instead decided to graze his cheek with the back of her hand gently, covering him up with her throw she had on the couch. Maya shrugged as she turned on the tv and sat on the opposite end as she stuffed spoonfuls of pasta into her mouth watching Real Housewives of New Jersey, shaking her head at the stupid drama on her television shifting when she heard Tim move around and groan “What ? What happened ?” Tim asked with a groan as he stretched “did I fall asleep here ?” “You did” she nodded “only been like an hour and a half, now please get yourself a plate and don’t bother me for the next 20 minutes because Teresa Giudice is about to cause drama at this fashion show so shhh” He raised his brow in confusion as he stood up and served himself a plate and sat next to her going back and forth between her reactions and the tv screen in front of him “Did she just call her an old hag and a bitch ?” “Tim shh” she put a finger to his lips absentmindedly Tim nodded quickly as he leaned back into the couch and ate, speaking up when the show was over with wide eyes “That was… a lot. Is all reality tv like this ?” “Only the best” Maya laughed “and by the way, sorry for shushing you like that” He shrugged “I deserve more than that” “Tim, as of tonight we drop it” she turned to look at him “Please” Maya cleaned up thinking what the hell she got herself into with him, this wasn’t in her character at all. One second she was ready to see him drop dead 8 floors to the ground and the next she was making out with him in her kitchen. This was new territory she was going into and deep down it felt right, it felt right to kiss him and feel his touch and she could feel he was feeling the same way. She turned her head , gasping as she bumped into him “Yes ?” she whispered “Maya, I like you” Tim said “I like you a lot...and I feel like if I don’t tell you now that it’s just us here in a comfortable environment I probably won’t say it again. This isn’t like me one bit” he admits “I’ll be honest yeah I’ve had girlfriends, I dated women here and there but I never felt like this…” “Like how ?” she asked softly “Scared, scared that when I was with you I liked who I was for once, I felt at ease and like I didn’t need to put the harsh wrestling persona up. You didn’t care or give it much thought either or pestered me like some others had in the past. And I just wanna say-” “Tim shut the fuck up and just kiss me already” she said softly And he did. He kissed her deeply as he moved his hands down to her hips and lifted her with ease onto her kitchen countertop feeling her hands move up and down his chest. It wasn’t just a long kiss, it was several kisses with small breaks in between to ensure they could catch their breath as their hands roamed freely all over each other's bodies. Maya unbuttoned the first 3 buttons off his shirt as she lightly traced his chest with her nails as her forehead pressed against his “we should go to my room….we don’t have to you know...have sex but we can just do more of this there comfortably” “Okay” he nodded as he took her hand and followed her into her room, looking around at the pristine condition everything was in. A vanity organized with makeup items and skin care products he couldn’t even name, her bed perfectly made and covered in pillows, a closet the size of his bedroom with clothes in every color of the rainbow. Everything so neat and luxurious, everything he didn’t have. She leaned up against him she kissed him again, this time with more dominance as she stumbled onto her bed on top of him, feeling his hands lightly on her lower back Tim pulled apart from her as he rubbed his slightly red lips and pet her hair gently with his hand “I haven’t had anything like that in a while” he admitted with a small grin “Neither have I’ she chuckled, licking her lips feeling them swell “It’s like free lip filler” “Always a comedian” Tim laughed genuinely sitting up on her bed “Jesus it’s 11 already and I gotta walk back to my car to get home, I got tapings tomorrow” “Just stay here and I’ll take you back in the morning, it’ll be early I promise” she said softly as she gave a comforting grin “Okay, I”ll take the couch though. I’m not sleeping in your bed, this was a one time thing that I typically don’t let happen” “What a gentleman you are” Maya said as she brought him a pillow and blanket “I’ve got all the works on my tv so feel free to watch what you like, bathroom is right next to the closet” “Thanks, I appreciate it really” She got up in the morning as she turned off her alarm and got ready for the day, taking a peek and seeing Tim up and sitting as he watched tv making different facial expressions “What are you watching ?” she chuckled as she walked out and turned on her Nespresso machine “Danielle is a mess, I get why you watch this trashy stuff. It’s addicting” he shook his head as he turned it off Maya laughed as she took out two mugs from her cabinet “Well now you know and let me guess, you take your black ?” “ Yeah” He nodded as he got up and sat on a stool “I got a shoot in like an hour so I probably won’t be able to talk to you for most of today” she said softly as she packed her bag “chances are till late late tonight” “Oh….well um I was hoping if you’re able to, I actually have a taping tomorrow and I wanted to ask you if you would like to attend ? It’s about 2 hours, it’s fun even for someone like you who’s never been around wrestling” Never been around wrestling, after a great night she remembered the big mess she had yet to talk to him about. Marcel, shit. “I’ll try my hardest” she responded with a grin as she drove them back to his car “Thanks again for driving me here, I appreciate it have a good shoot” he nodded as he lingered for a while leaning in slowly as he pet her cheek with his hand and kissed her “Um I think your friend over there saw us” Maya laughed softly as she pointed to an opened mouthed Oney at the gym entrance Tim chuckled and shook his head as he got out “I’m not gonna hear the end of this one, I’ll text you later, have a good work day” he smiled softly as he walked away “Is that….you have a ?, speak up already” Oney pushed as he followed him to his car “you can’t just not tell me what’s going on after kissing someone like THAT” He turned around as he got out his gym bag “excuse me ? what do you mean like that ? what’s with the emphasis on the end there ?” Oney shook his head as he gave a scoff “Do you have any idea who that is ? What kind of work she does ?”

“Uh yeah she’s a mode” Tim nodded as they walked inside “I’ve seen her stuff, she showed me and talked to me all about it”

“I can’t believe you’re dating a model man, you of all people. No offense of course but I mean I never pictured you even dating someone at all”

Tim raised a brow “I’m that bad of a catch huh ? Gee I feel great now that you’ve given me this amazing pep talk, feeling like I can conquer the world now” he answered sarcastically stretching

“How old is she ?” Oney asked “because there’s no way she’s older than 30”

“25….” he said softly “she’s 25, just turned 25 actually about 2 months ago”

“WHAT ?” Oney said as he spit out his water “No fucking way, you’re dating a 25 year old ?”

“Would you stop, we’re not dating…….we’re friends that’s all” he answered as he began his cardio

“Oh yeah because you totally suck face with a friend before leaving right ?” Oney chuckled “You’re in deep, you did the cheek grab and the little linger after you kiss” “Well maybe I like her, friends right now but who knows maybe after she comes to the show might change” he gave a smile “I invited her and she said she’ll come” “Who are you and what have you done to my friend ?” Oney asked with a raised brow “Because you are not the Tim I know” “Let’s just say maybe I wanna enjoy life a bit more” He shrugged “and I’m starting with her, she likes me. I like her, there’s nothing that can go wrong” Nothing right ?

#timothy thatcher #timothy thatcher x oc #timothy thatcher fic #marcel barthel #imperium #wrestling fic

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Sweet, Like Daisies

Pairing: Usagiyama Rumi (Miruko) x Gender Neutral Reader

Story Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff / Humor

Story Warnings: Some cursing and flirting, but mostly just cuteness that could rot your teeth.

a/n: This is my art of the bnharem Discord server SFW collab, with the theme of Flowers! I decided to base my part around Daisies, which represent innocence. Rumi can be a cute and fluffy bunny just as much as she can be super fierce and I love her to death. This story also marks my beginning of writing for characters other than Bakugou! I will be posting them on this blog. If there’s anything you’d like to see, lmk! (♡´౪`♡)

Thank you so much to everyone in the server for this wonderful experience! I had so much fun and I can’t wait for the next one!

*｡Collab Masterlist *｡

--Full art piece--

“Let’s go, let’s go! Don’t tell me you’re all tuckered out already!”

“Rumi, you gotta- oh damn, my legs are on fire! What is with this hill?!”

Coming to a stop as you pulled yourself up onto a boulder jetting out of the hillside, you flopped to sit onto your butt, rubbing your burning thigh vigorously. It was a miracle that you had even made it this far, your body not exactly used to these physically challenging hikes that your girlfriend just loved to drag you on. They were easy for her, considering that she was not only one of the top pro heroes in the country, but her quirk gave her incredibly strong legs and just overall physical strength. Her bunny legs allowed her to hop over any difficult obstacle, but you? All you could do was drag yourself along, barely keeping up with her by the skin of your teeth.

“Don’t be a wimp! You’re almost there!” Squatting down at the edge of her current perch, Rumi had that typical wicked and expectant grin on her face, a few loose strands of her white hair falling around her forehead and cheeks. “You got this, Carrot!”

“Carrot… Out of all nicknames, why did you have to pick that one.” With a huff, you pulled yourself up to your feet, using the roots and rocks to help you up the steep incline.

“Oh, because I could just eat you up, of course!” Rumi gave a teasing scrunch of her nose, one of her long rabbit ears giving a twitch in satisfaction of her response. You, however, immediately grew embarrassed, losing your footing. Scrambling to catch yourself, you got secure again before turning your glare up towards her, your face burning fiercely as she laughed at your reaction. She had a talent for making you so embarrassed you could barely stand it, but really, who could blame you?

Rumi was witty and intelligent. Confident and strong. Beautiful and caring. There wasn’t an ounce of timidness in her, which is not what people would expect when they hear the word ‘rabbit’. They would think quiet, reserved, innocent, fearful, and adorable. She was adorable, to be sure, but none of those other qualities showed themselves. Actually, they showed themselves in you.

Before you had met Rumi, you were very shy, easily overwhelmed and lacking in confidence. And still, somehow, this bright and extravagant woman had taken great interest in you, building you up higher and higher until you were finally beginning to see the sun for the first time in so many years. She pushed you to better yourself, to grow stronger and happier in your own skin, and although what she encouraged was hard, it was worth every moment and struggle.

Even if she could make you so flustered you’d want to go hide under a rock sometimes.

“Rumi! Stop that, don’t try to embarrass me while I’m climbing, I could fall!”

“You dumbass, ya think I’d let you fall? Never!” When you finally got close, Rumi reached down and took hold of your forearm, waiting until you got your own grip on hers before she helped to hoist you up. Her effortless strength astounded you as always, but you didn’t have much time to admire it, as she began to move down the past the instant you were steady on your feet. “C’mon, Carrot, move that tush!”

Sighing heavily in exhaustion, you forced your burning legs to walk forward, wiping your dirt stained hands on your similarly dirtied khaki shorts. “We’re almost to a resting point, right?”

“Yes. There’s a nice little clearing here, we can take a break!” Rumi lifted her arms up over her head, giving a drawn out and satisfied groan as she stretched. Nestled at her lower back, her white fluffy tail puffed out and shook in the same moment, bringing a smile to your lips. She was just so incredibly perfect, and you couldn’t help but feel so lucky.

After walking for a while in silence to enjoy the sounds of nature, Rumi came to a stop, starting to maneuver her way through the trees and brush. “We have to go off the path a bit. Watch out for spiders ‘n shit. And stinging nettle. I’m not gonna rub that ointment all over your body if you fall in it again!”

Remembering the painful experience of falling face first into a batch of stinging nettle the last time you went hiking, you were sure to observe your surroundings thoroughly before following her. The brush and twigs scratched and poked your legs uncomfortably, but your thick hiking boots helped you to trudge through it without much problem. When you finally breached the edge of the forest into the clearing, you had to squint a bit from the brightness of the morning sun, bringing a hand up to shield your eyes.

When your eyes finally adjusted, you found yourself standing at the edge of a large field of wildflowers and tall grass, which swayed with the cool spring breeze. It felt so heavenly against your hot and sweaty skin, and the brilliant view of the hills and trees in the distance brought a smile to your lips. Being out in the wilderness wasn’t exactly your favorite thing, but you could admit that it truly was beautiful.

“How’s this for a resting spot, eh?” Rumi quite literally knocked you back into reality with a rough, playful nudge to your side, grinning up at you. “Will this do, your highness?”

“Hey, don’t patronize me like that! I get tired, I don’t have thighs of steel like you do.” You took her hand tenderly in yours as she grabbed it, your fingers lacing instinctively.

“Excuses! C’mon, let’s sit under that tree, it has shade.” Leading you forward as always, Rumi nearly had a skip in her step, her white hair bobbing in its high, messy ponytail. The tree that was chosen was a lonely one, growing out in the field alone. With all the extra room, the roots were large and snaked in and out of the ground like tentacles, and lush green leaves were at full bloom. It was comfortable and beautiful.

Shrugging off your pack, you rested it up against the tree trunk next to Rumi’s, pulling your water bottle out of the side pocket to take a healthy swig. “This really is a nice area, Rumi. How’d you find it?” Sitting down in the grass beside her, you offered her the water bottle, which she took.

“I’ve been hikin’ this trail awhile. It’s challenging, so not a lot of losers try to take it, only those that are strong enough.” After taking a sip of water, Rumi leaned her head back, squeezing the bottle so water trickled lightly onto her face and top of her head. “It is warm today, though! Especially for being spring.”

“Ah, well I can relate to those losers, I shouldn’t be on this hill either-- ACK, hey!” Suddenly, you were sprayed in the face with water, perpetrated by a very annoyed bunny.

“Don’t belittle yourself like that! Be proud, you killed that fucking hill!”

Grumbling from defeat, you ran your hand down your face to wipe the water away, glowering at your lover as she glared right back up at you with a pout that boarded on adorable. Calming down, you smiled, nodding in agreement. “Ah, sorry, sorry. You’re right. I should be proud of myself.”

“You should! My baby isn’t a loser.” Leaning up, Rumi placed a rough kiss against your cheek, her hand pressing against your other to make sure you couldn’t flee. You’d never want to, of course, so you let her punish you with the kiss, which was followed by a much more tender one before she set you free.

Smiling, you turned your attention to the grass around your legs, which was peppered with daisies and dandelions. You felt so calm and at peace in the silence of nature, and with your lover by your side, you were feeling quite… soft. That’s the only way you could describe your current emotions, so you soaked in it for a while, leaning back and supporting yourself with your hands.

After a while of peace, you leaned forward again to give your arms a rest, turning your attention back to the flowers around you. Carefully, you began to pluck the daisies out of the ground, making sure to keep their stem long. As if in a trance, you slowly began working on winding the stems of the flowers together, growing too focused on your work and the rustling of the wind to notice that you were being watched closely. In fact, you were so startled by Rumi’s voice that you jumped, nearly crushing your delicate flower arrangement in surprise.

“What’cha makin’ there, Carrot?”

“Erm… uh, a flower crown. I guess?” You brought both ends of the strip of flowers together to check the size, finding that it still wasn’t quite long enough to fit an adult head. “I used to make them as a kid. It’s been a while since I’ve been near so many daisies.”

With another sly smile, Rumi leaned against your side, resting her head on your shoulder. “Oooh, how grossly cute and sweet! Should I start calling you Baby Carrot?”

“W-what?! No, no, don’t do that, you’re gonna make me want to puke. Why don’t you call me something normal like… babe or hun.”

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy!” After giving you a playful nudge to the arm, Rumi turned her attention to the flowers around you both, plucking a daisy from its stem and bringing it up to her nose. “Y’know, for such a cute little flower, they have an awful smell. But damn, they’re tasty.” To your horror, Rumi chomped the entire bloomed flower head off the stem, making you yelp in disgust and cover your mouth.

“Rumi! That’s a wildflower! You can’t just eat it!”

“Hm?” Rumi looked up at you curiously, batting her long lashes in confusion. “I eat flowers all the time. I love their taste! They aren’t bitter to me at all. Restaurants sell them!”

“Y-yeah, but baby, they wash them first at least…” You felt your stomach churn as she picked up another flower, dousing it with water from your bottle. “Rumi! Don’t be a smart ass!”

“What, this one’s not for me!” Smirking, she held the now soggy and dripping flower up to your lips, making you cringe backwards with a sour expression. “Open up!”

“No way!” You covered your mouth with your hand, knowing that she would shove it in at the first opportunity. “There’s no way I’m eating a flower! At least not one that hadn’t been cleaned or anything properly! You have the stomach of a rabbit, you can handle it, I can’t!”

“What, you scared of getting worms?!” She poked you on the nose with the flower, leaning more against you. “You won’t get anything that’ll kill you!”

“I would, I just know it!” With a final wave of your hand, Rumi took the flower away, tossing it over her shoulder and back into the grass. “You wasted it?”

“Putting water on it made it soggy, I ain’t gonna eat that! Hey, show me how to make one of these!” Scooting around to face you, Rumi gazed down curiously at the still unfinished crown in your lap. “This shit is stupid; it has to be easy!”

“Well, it’s kind of hard, you have to be pretty gentle with the flowers. Here,” You plucked four daisies with a long stem, handing them to her before you plucked two more of your own. With detailed instruction, you showed her exactly how to twist and wind the stems, but you could see that she was already struggling with the delicate procedure. The frustrated pout was permanently plastered on her fair face, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowed. Still, she was trying and as focused as she could be.

“How the hell are you doing that so perfectly?!” Rumi eventually snapped, leaning over you a bit to really see your almost finished crown up close. “Look at that! It almost looks fake!”

Laughing softly, you finished off by connecting the two ends of the crown together, holding it up a bit to look at it clearly in the sun. “I told you, I’ve done this before. It’s not that big of a deal, babe. Here,” Turning to face her, you plopped the flower crown onto her the top of her head between her ears, making them flatten out backwards in immediate embarrassment and the tickling of the flowers against the sensitive skin.

Cheeks flushing dark, Rumi scoffed, glaring up at you as she resisted the urge to reach up and rip it off. “Get this thing off of me, I’m not some damn fairy!”

“Aw, but you look so adorable with it on.” You couldn’t resist the wide smile on your lips, especially as Rumi only grew more flustered, her ears snapping up in agitation and making the flower crown bend a bit, though it didn’t fall from her head. “It just makes you look so cute and innocent!”

“I’m not!” Rumi scooted herself closer so that she was sitting right up against your crossed legs, letting hers rest on either side of your hips. “Call me cute and innocent again and I’ll make you regret it!” As if it were a punishment, Rumi reached up and plopped her sloppy excuse for a flower crown onto the top of your head. The instant it landed, it broke apart, showering you with crumpled daisies. Unable to help it, you began to laugh, which only grew harder as Rumi began to rage and stutter. “Dammit! Fucking flowers! This is why I just eat the damn things! Stop laughing at me, Carrot!”

Covering your mouth, you gave a defeated shake of your head, holding your other hand up in defense. “I’m sorry, Rumi, it was just too funny! And so cute!”

Before you could even find the time to react, you were tackled down into the grass, immediately smothered by the feral animal before you. Latching onto her instinctively, you were at her mercy as she gripped your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips to pucker, even as your laughter continued.

“I told you! You call me cute, you’re gonna die! I-” Suddenly, the flower crown slipped off the top of her head and onto your face, framing it perfectly. The shock silenced you immediately, staring up at Rumi in surprise. She was just as perturbed as you were, but after a moment her wonder broke into a grin, chuckling as she released your cheeks. “Look who’s all cute and innocent now! Ya dork.”

Not bothering to remove the crown, you smiled softly, reaching up to caress Rumi’s cheeks tenderly. “No one in this entire world is cuter than you, baby.”

“Says the person with a flower crown on their face and daisies stuck in their hair. Hey!”

Rumi’s ears parted again as you took the crown off your face, placing it carefully on her head again to where it wouldn’t fall. This time, instead of getting angry, Rumi’s cheeks flushed again, and a cheeky smile stretched across her lips. “You aren’t gonna give up, are ya?”

“Never. Besides, innocence is a great look for you. Just please don’t eat anymore daisies.”

“Nah, flowers aren’t all that appetizing. I think I’m in the mood for some Carrot, instead.”

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #rumi #usagiyama rumi #miruko #mirko #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #miruko x reader #rumi x reader #personal #collab

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lunarsaga · 3 years

Text

Chapter 6: The Poison Master

Here it is, Chapter 6!

Chapter 7 is in the works, and will be going up on patreon soon! Stay tuned and follow me on Twitter for updates!

Don't forget that this is meant to read like a graphic novel, meaning the art pieces are part of the story and aren't meant to be skipped!

Also trying a new thing! "========" <- Lines like this are scene breaks "// ~ ~ ~ \\" <- and these are perspective changes!

ENJOY, MY LOVES! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

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“I’m going after Jakotsu.”

It was said with such confidence—the confidence of a man who had not just been struggling to keep himself from getting sliced to pieces by an undead murderer that kept trying to flirt with him—that Luna just had to wonder if it was really Inuyasha saying it. (It was, of course. She was just being sarcastic.)

“That’s funny, I thought I just heard you say you were going after that psychopath.” Luna said to the half-demon. She idly pulled her hair down from her ponytail and began to weave it into a loose braid.

“I am!” Inuyasha said, indignant. “He couldn’t have gotten far.”

“Yes, but Inuyasha,” Miroku interjected, “aren’t you worried about that poisonous gas?”

“Whaddya mean?”

Thoughtful, Miroku glanced off in the direction where they’d encountered the first of the Band of Seven. The cloud had almost entirely dispersed, but if you looked hard enough, you could still see wisps of the toxic smoke drifting into the sky. “Well, Jakotsu seemed to know something about it.”

“You’re right…” Inuyasha said, “You think it’s another member of the Band of Seven?”

“Could be…” Sango mused, “but didn’t Jakotsu seem to be in danger himself? Why would a member of his own team endanger him?”

“Infighting?” Luna guessed, running her fingers through the tangles in her hair. “They’re ruthless mercenaries, I wouldn’t expect them to be one big bloodthirsty family… Unless…” She tilted her head, trailing off in thought.

“Unless what…?” Kagome asked, looking at her sister in concern.

Luna paused another second, still deep in thought as she began to weave her hair into a loose braid. “I mean… If Jakotsu knows the guy? He probably knew that there was still time to avoid the poison. He did tell Inuyasha to get out of the way, remember.” Only Inuyasha, but still.

Inuyasha turned away from the rest of them, uncrossing his arms. “Whatever the case, I’m not letting him get away. You all stay here, and stay safe.”

“Don’t do anything stupid!” Luna called after him as he ran off.

“You’re one to talk.” Ai snorted, earning her a gentle kick from the Hunter sitting next to her.

Kagome stood from where she’d been rifling through her bag, holding a nearly-empty plastic bottle. “Ah, we’re almost out of water… I think I saw a well on our way over here, I’m gonna go fill this up.”

Luna arched an eyebrow at her sister. “Is going off on your own a good idea when there’s a bunch of killer zombies in the area?”

Kagome sighed, smiling back at her. “I’ll be fine, it’s not far. Shippo, why don’t you come with me?” Shippo grinned and jumped into Kagome’s bike basket as she got it on the road. “You should show Sango your crossbow, Luna.”

“Crossbow?” Sango asked.

“Ah, yes, I’m actually interested in seeing how it works up close,” Miroku said, “I saw you use it on Jakotsu, it was impressive.”

Luna smiled and shook her head. “Alright, be safe, Kagome.” She hoisted up the crossbow to show her friends how the arms unfolded, getting a little chuckle out of it when the two of them jumped.

“It does that all on its own?” Sango asked as Luna handed it over to her. She was unsure where to hold it for a second, but Luna showed her how.

“Yep, they’re spring-loaded, so they just pop out,” Luna explained.

Luna went on to answer all sorts of questions about it, and while Sango and Miroku (and even Kilala) seemed interested in the strange contraption, Ai had heard it all before, when Luna had first returned to this world with it. She stretched herself out, her tail fluffing itself out as she curled up against a warm rock. Mmm… warm… Her eyelids began to droop as she got comfortable there; it had been such an exhausting day already…

But as she was about to drift off, she took a deep breath, and a rancid smell hit her nose. She jolted upright with a disgusted hiss, trying to find where the smell was coming from.

“Ai?” Luna asked, “What’s up?”

Kilala seemed to pick up on the scent too—something foul was drifting in the air. The elder cat demon transformed into her full form, and Ai stood, hair bristling.

“Something doesn’t smell right.”

Luna picked up on the tension right away, and her thoughts immediately went to her sister. “God damnit, Kagome...” She hissed, going to her backpack and rifling through it.

“Kagome’s in trouble?” Miroku stood, worried.

“The smell’s coming from the same direction she went,” Ai said.

“And the smell could be that person with the poison,” Sango had already grabbed Hiraikotsu and was putting on her Slayer’s mask. “We don’t wanna take any chances—it’s too bad I only have one of these…”

“No worries, I’ve got these. Here, Miroku.” Luna pulled a medical mask out of her kit to hand it to her friend. “It won’t do much, but it’ll at least keep you from inhaling anything.”

“Thank you, Luna—what about you?”

Luna held up something from her bag: her own mask. It was a military-grade gas mask with a clear face shield, modified to fit a Hunter’s needs. “This one’s mine. It’s made specifically for Hunters like me,” She said as she slipped it over her head. She was well aware that to the locals she might look like a demon, but fuck if she cared; her sister was in danger. The first thing in hand was her crossbow, and she grabbed her ammo bag as she was taking off running.

As it turned out, they were right to call the masks, but Luna certainly didn’t expect to find an entire village choked with poison like a deadly mist. It was barely past lunchtime, and they’d already seen so much death—it was disheartening to see bodies strewn everywhere. But through the mist, they could see Shippo rolling on the ground and coughing, Kagome crouched on her hands and knees, and some weird little figure looming over her. (Well, maybe looming was a strong word. The guy was like three feet tall.)

Sango didn’t hesitate to swing Hiraikotsu; the first swing shattered the poison bottle in the creep’s hand.

“Stay back!” Shouted the little toad of a man.

“Like hell I will,” Luna snarled, aiming her crossbow at the poison master. “Step away from my sister. Now.”

Shippo was finally able to scramble to his feet, and, unsure of what else to do, proclaimed: “I’ll go get Inuyasha!” and took off running.

“Ai, go with him!” Luna said to her friend. The Bakeneko hesitated a moment, worried, but then shifted into her full form and took off after the young fox demon.

“He had to be the one behind the smoke,” Miroku said, of the poison master, “Which means he must be another member of the Band of Seven!”

The laugh that exited the little man made Luna want to vomit. “Yes! I am Mukotsu, Poison Master!”

“Then tell me, Mukotsu, someone must have resurrected you all,” Miroku continued. “Is Naraku behind all this?”

“Hehehehehe, couldn’t tell you! You’ll have to ask the Captain…” He trailed off, reaching back into the little box he was carrying on his back and quickly retrieving another bottle of poison. “Should you survive, that is!”

Luna wasn’t about to give him another second to unplug the bottle. She tried to step toward her sister again, but she only got to fire once before her vision was blocked by powerful black smoke that ejected towards them. Kilala—completely unaffected by the poison, it seemed—jumped in front of Luna to block the bulk of it.

“NO!” Luna shouted, trying to see around the giant Nekomata, “Kagome!”

Luna felt the crushing weight of helplessness almost immediately. That was her sister, helpless and about to pass out, and she couldn’t help. She couldn’t see, couldn’t move, couldn’t do… anything.

It was less than a minute until the smoke cleared, but it felt like an eternity. When she could see again, it only confirmed what she already knew: her sister had been taken. She knew her mask would’ve filtered out whatever the poison was made of, but her legs were still shaking. Not with pain, not with shock… but with pure, unbridled anger. Her lungs could only draw in sharp, furious breaths.

Lock it up, she told herself. She focused the energy buzzing around in her head on keeping herself contained—as best she could. Her face was solid as stone, and she snapped into work mode. She needed to make sure Sango and Miroku were okay—she could just see them again through the dissipating smoke. She looked them both over quickly, trying to make sure they hadn’t been affected.

“We’re alright, are you okay?” Sango asked her, “Where’s Kagome?”

“Gone.” Luna said flatly. “Let’s move. That little freak couldn’t have taken her far.”

“We should go back to where we were first,” Miroku suggested. “I have a feeling we are going to need the rest of both of your supplies.”

==============================================

When Kagome regained consciousness, she was in a completely different place. Her vision was still blurry—all she could make out was a wooden floor beneath her, and a hearth a few feet away. She tried to reach up to rub her eyes, but her arm wouldn’t move. She blinked, but her eyelids were so heavy. That was the only movement she could manage, and it was like trying to lift blocks of concrete.

My body… I can’t move…! She could feel her heart pounding in terror. She was trapped, in the worst way possible.

That guy—the “Poison Master” guy—he was a member of the Band of Seven. He’d done something… She could hear him, a few feet away from her, cackling in a way that made her stomach turn.

“We’re surrounded by a barrier of poisonous gas,” He uttered as he moved closer to her, “no one can disturb us!”

If she could move her face, she would have winced in disgust. This guy was creepy to the extreme—she knew in the back of her mind that if Luna were here, she would’ve kicked the absolute crap out of him. Kagome wanted to, too, but…

The Poison Master—Mukotsu, that’s what his name was, wasn’t it?—he kept chuckling as he grabbed Kagome’s chin. “Such a rare beauty—I’m so fortunate getting married to such a pretty girl~”

MARRIED? Kagome felt sick.

“You see, believe it or not,” Mukotsu reached up to remove the cloth mask covering most of his face, “there are some that find me unattractive.”

And no wonder, she thought as she was able to take in his full visage. He looks like a toad!

Kagome had no option but to physically abide by the “bridal preparations”; she felt like a ragdoll. It was humiliating. Surely her friends were coming—lord knows Luna would tear the countryside apart just by herself to find her, and if Shippo went to get Inuyasha? Kagome knew she was going to be okay, eventually, but she wasn’t about to just sit here and let this creep treat her like an object.

I have to find a way out of here, she thought, resolute. But how…?

She couldn’t move her head more than a little, but as Mukotsu was trying to dance her around for a “Marriage Ceremony” (gross), she caught sight of something glinting in his neck.

That has to be a Jewel Shard! If I can just get it somehow… Now she had to figure out how she was going to do that. Thankfully, the Universe provides. Mukotsu returned her to the floor after their “marriage dance”, this time directly facing the hearth, and she saw her opportunity: sticking upright out of the ashes was the fire poker. Now if I can just grab it...

Then, like a miracle, help finally arrived. “Arrived”, meaning “crashed through the roof”, but her friends and her sister arrived all the same.

“Kagome!” She heard Sango’s voice first, right next to her. Her friend helped her roll over, and from there Kagome could see her sister and Miroku: Luna had her crossbow ready to fire, pointed at Mukotsu—and she had on this odd-looking mask. Something from her arsenal, no doubt.

“Kagome, are you alright?!” That was Miroku.

There was a click as Luna drew back the crossbow’s string, ready to fire. “Get the fuck away from my sister.” Her voice was gravely steady—she almost didn’t sound like herself.

“How dare you interrupt our wedding ceremony!” Mukotsu grabbed one of his poison jars.

“Oh, so you wanna die, then!” Luna snarled.

Sango stood, quickly drawing her katana and brandishing Hiraikotsu like a shield. “Luna, leave him to me! Get Kagome away!”

No time to argue. Luna growled and stooped to grab her sister, just as Mukotsu unleashed the contents of the jar. Kagome watched Sango and Miroku stagger back, before Luna rolled her out of the way.

As the poison billowed around the room, Kagome felt her fingers regain some motor control. As her sister pulled up the hood of her flannel shirt to try to shield them from the cloud, Kagome managed to tug on it.

“The Shard…” Kagome managed to utter. “In… his neck…”

She saw the realization in Luna’s face, and the older girl nodded. “Got it, aim for the throat. Try to hold your breath, sis, I’ll have everyone out of here in a sec.”

“Those masks of yours won’t help!” Gloated the Poison Master, “This poison enters through the eyes and skin!”

“God damnit!” Kagome could only watch as her sister swore and staggered. Sango and Miroku had already fallen to the floor, and Luna was clearly not going to last much longer, either.

I have to help! Steeling her resolve, Kagome forced her hands to move. Come on, body… move! She pushed herself up just enough to grab the poker from the fireplace.

// ~ ~ ~ \\

Luna refused to crumble. She stood between her sister and Mukotsu, stumbling and shaking but still able to raise her crossbow. But with her arms getting weaker by the second, aiming steadily was getting pretty damn hard. Still, if she could just hit the bastard…

She was only able to let off one bolt, and the force of it sent her staggering backwards, until she stumbled into the wall and hit the floor. She felt sick; she doubled over onto her hands and knees, her vision drifting between blurry and straight up red. She was not going to be defeated by this lowlife.

You keep fighting, kid. No matter what happens, you keep fighting.

The voice echoed in the back of her mind, a voice she knew all too well. Her arms couldn’t hold her up anymore, but as she watched Mukotsu get closer to her sister again, she pushed herself away from the wall. Tears in her eyes, she struggled a few feet across the floor on her stomach to grab her crossbow again. She saw her sister, finally getting her strength back, stab the motherfucker in the throat. She wanted to cheer for her, but that would have to wait.

Mukotsu smacked Kagome back to the floor, which only fueled Luna’s rage. Her crossbow was ready to fire—but damn, she couldn’t see through the cloud of poison! It was starting to fog up the face shield on her mask, making it even harder to aim. But with the fucking creep trying to choke her baby sister out, she had to fight.

Dammit!

Luna took a deep breath, ripped the mask off, and got in position to aim—which was a tall order. Everything was fuzzy and she was mere seconds from passing out. She saw the light of the jewel shard (was that what that weird glow was?) and aimed for it. She only had one shot, it had to be enough. She hoped it would be enough. She let the bolt loose… and heard Mukotsu cry out.

She could barely see, barely breathe, barely move—but… wait… that glow wasn’t the Jewel Shard after all, was it? This glow was a sickly sort of green. And there was a lot of white behind it. Was she… was she seeing things? Was that….

“Kags…” Her voice was weak as she tried to crawl toward her.

“Luna…!” Kagome was still just as weak, but managed to shift toward her sister.

“Tell me, is Inuyasha here?”

Kagome turned back toward the powerful demon who stood over them, completely unaffected by the cloud of poison. Luna followed her gaze, and for a second she thought she was hallucinating; she could’ve sworn, even in her delirium, that she saw the bolt she fired buried deep in Sesshomaru’s shoulder. The end of it was letting off little sparks of purple light that quickly faded—but Luna’s vision was finally going out. She could hear her sister calling her name one more time before she fully passed out and crumpled to the wood floor.

#fanfic #inuyasha fanart #inuyasha #inuyasha oc #the lunar saga #inuyasha au #my ocs #fanart #my art #oc #inuyasha fanfic #sesshomaru #kagome higurashi #sango #miro #shippo

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

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The Pretender Next Door Part 2 Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Warning: Swearing. Summary: Lying is despicable, but nothing beats the humiliation of pretending you have a lovely boyfriend when, in fact, you have none. Could your handsome neighbor help you, though? Words: 2138. Part 1 _____________________________________ It went better you thought it would. Your colleagues were mostly friendly and open, your work environment seemed both interesting and challenging enough, and living in the new apartment was comfortable and pretty peaceful. Well, that man from the 5th floor was singing songs from Bridget Jones Diary on Friday mornings really loudly, but you were an early bird, so you didn’t care, truly. You hadn’t seen Steve much, though it was more an advantage rather than not. He wasn’t bringing any girls into his apartment, and it really bothered you. Worse, he wasn’t bringing any boys either. Your last hope was that Steve belonged to some kind of swingers club or something and had orgies in a different place.

Swingers club? Damn, girl. This man was making you crazy.

You did your best to forget about that perfection of a man living next door. You needed to build your life from scratch in this mad city of New York, and having relationships now was not on your list. In fact, it had never been.

One busy month had already passed when you got a chance to talk to Steve again. You were stepping inside the elevator, tired after work. Next week you were organizing a big holiday party for employees, and things were going more and more stressful with each day. It turned out that way more people had allergies they didn’t state previously, most of them new employees like you, and you had to adjust the menu; then that band your VP of Marketing wanted to have suddenly asked more money than you discussed before, and…

Well, event planning was always like that. Why complaining now when you spend all those years in college and then decided to move to NY? It was predictable. What was unpredictable was you lying to your married colleagues that you had a boyfriend. Why on Earth did you say that? Yes, it was a bit embarrassing to be the only woman who wasn’t in a relationship, but did you ultimately have to lie about it? It was so stupid and childish. Surely, there were more than one single woman in New York.

Anyway, you had a bottle of white wine and Netflix movies waiting for you at home. You would deal with everything else later, including your imaginary boyfriend.

“Wait, please!”

You snapped out of your thoughts and immediately pressed a button to leave the doors open, and the next second Steve almost flew inside the elevator. Oh, was he just in front of you and you hadn’t seen him again? Seriously, you needed to put yourself together.

“Hello.” You smiled a bit shyly and pressed another button to get the elevator moving.

He looked as handsome as always in his dark blue jacket and… oh God, he could wear nothing at all and still looked like a prince. No clothes at all would be far more preferable…

“Hello.” His glowing smile made it hard to keep your eyes off his face.

Nonono, just stop staring and keep your eyes down. You had enough things on your plate already, there was no place left for a giant sun named Steve Rogers who would indeed burn you to ashes the same second you decide to come closer.

“So, are we going the same floor?” He suddenly asked. Wait, did he forget you literally lived next door?

“Um, yes.”

Steve scratched the back of his head; for a few seconds he seemed lost in thought. You decided to drop it. Maybe he had a bad memory or something.

“Oh, I get it, you probably visiting my new neighbor.” He just grinned through those perfectly white teeth.

What? Did he already forget he spent at least half an hour in your hallway repairing your bookshelf? Just how bad was his memory if he didn’t recognize your face, for God’s sake? Well, anyway, if you wanted him to have a flaw, you had to be happy he got one. Better than being a secret swinger, wasn’t it?

“Actually, I am your new neighbor.” You let out an awkward laugh and stared at your pretty kitten heels shoes you bought before leaving Key West. Why were you upset? You just thought about not getting into relationship with anyone. Besides, you doubted you had a chance to date Steve Rogers even if New York’s female population would be five times smaller its actual size.

Lost in your thoughts again, you missed his immediate change of expression, his face completely red with embarrassment and shame.

“God, I’m an idiot with a fish’s memory span.” He groaned and looked somewhere up, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. “I’m so sorry! I mean, of course I remember you, Y/N, it just, ugh, you know… you just look a bit different and… Jesus Christ, I’m gonna say something stupid again, aren’t I?.. Just, ugh, sorry.”

With the guilt all over his pretty face he reminded you of a puppy who ate someone’s shoe, and you chuckled. It wasn’t as bad as you though, he still remembered your name. It was true you were different comparing to the day he met you – you were wearing way more makeup, including bright lipstick, to look older for your colleagues who were in their 40s and 50s. You also had a nice New Look black dress, and your hair were curled. Although you did not expect to look so different to others, maybe Steve simply didn’t take a closer look at your face that time?

And you could still take it as his flaw. Not bad enough, but still something!

“Don’t worry, you only saw me two times in your life.” You laughed it off and stepped out of the elevator once the doors were open. “Now if you see here a grumpy old woman with Ikea bags please remember the way I looked today.”

Steve followed you into a narrow corridor and burst out laughing, his face slowly losing its funny redness. You suspected he still felt kind of guilty, but he tried to keep it cool when you bid him goodbye and entered your apartment.

Thinking of any other possible flaws he might have, you took off your shoes and threw you bag on the comfy grey sofa in the middle of the room. You were finally home. Now you could change into your favorite blue pyjamas and fluffy slippers, take off your makeup and have some good time watching your favorite romcoms. Although you didn’t have anything for dinner, you could easily order something like a nice pizza or lasagna from that family-owned pizzeria around the corner.

The next hour you spent in a tub, washing away your worries. One was still there though: what were you supposed to do with your imaginary boyfriend? Your biggest issue was that your colleagues asked you to bring him to the party. Of course, they thought it was a nice gesture since they often brought their own husbands and boyfriends, but now they just made your life way more difficult. Even if you could say your boyfriend got sick or something at the day of the event, what then? Thankfully, no one demanded to see your photos yet, but they could. And they might ask you to bring him to dinners they had altogether sometimes, and God knows what else.

You were stupid enough to make up some super romantic story about a perfect guy any girl would like to date. It was embarrassing to think of it now, but you definitely got affected by the marriage stories of your colleagues who spent the whole lunch hour talking about their lovely husbands. Your problem was you tried to fit in too much.

Well, you probably had to come up with something about breaking up once you moved to NY. Funny, because your “boyfriend” was living here and waiting for you for a year to come over and transform your long-distance relationships into something bigger. Hell, you even said you might marry him. Why were you so careless? Why did your colleagues’ opinions matter so much?

You sighed, putting on an old black hoodie. You were hopeless.

Then you heard the doorbell rang and frowned. You were not expecting anyone since you didn’t order your pizza yet.

You hurried to the door in your slippers and put your hair into a ponytail on the way. It was around 8 pm. Who could it be? Did someone just mistake your apartment for someone’s else? You knew your aunt wasn’t coming without telling you first, and no one else knew where you moved to.

But you opened the door, and you found glowing Steve there with a plate in his hands. You were so stunned you just kept standing there until you heard him snicker. Wait, what? Steve? Did he need to borrow anything? Why was he here?

“H-hi Steve. Please, come in.” You stepped back awkwardly to let him go inside and saw him smiling even wider once he spotted your fluffy blue slippers. Could it get even more humiliating than that?

“Hi there. I’ve actually come to apologize properly for the… well, you know.” He almost looked like he was blushing a bit. “And I brought you a lemon pie. Although I baked it myself, I swear it’s not poisonous!”

Great, your absolutely perfect blue-eyed neighbor with blond hair and a winning smile was so nice he brought you a homemade pie. Girl, you were losing it. Maybe he was a serial killer instead of a swinger? It would make sense, indeed. Maybe it wasn’t wise touching this pie? Damn, you hoped he tried to kill you instead of just being nice, because Steve was clearly out of this world.

“I mean… not like baked it the way my mother did… more like googling an easy recipe online and putting everything I found into an instant pot…”

You were ready to slap yourself when you saw Steve fidgeting nervously in the hallway. You had to keep your lovely neighbor out of your mind.

“Thank you so much.” Taking the plate from his huge warm hands you felt your body temperature rising. “But you didn’t have to do that. There’s nothing to be sorry about!”

“No, I was being stupid and…”

“Well, whatever. Just come here and share this pie with me so I can check if it’s poisonous or not.” You tried your best to make a joke out of it and laughed, nodding towards the kitchen. “I can make either tea or coffee. What would you prefer? Um, if you’d like to stay, of course.”

“Only if you don’t mind the guy who couldn’t recognise his own neighbor.”

You spent the next hour chatting about anything and everything. Even though you had never been talkative with people you barely knew, Steve had seemed so trustworthy and friendly you were not able to stop. He talked a lot too, telling you more about himself, claiming he was “just a kid from Brooklyn.” He didn’t finish his university degree because of some financial issues and was now working in an auto repair shop. He still wanted to return to engineering, though, but the only jobs he was offered were some unpaid internships and things like that. And he also played guitar. And he had just finished renovating his own apartment.

The only flaw you found was his issue with keeping the rooms clean as he was overly impressed with your place and how tidy it was. Well, it was something.

Then you had somehow told him about your work, new company, colleagues, the event, and… and that imaginary boyfriend of yours. When you realized you complained about your silly lies, it was already late. Steve was biting his lips not to laugh. Oh, great. Now he was thinking how pitiful you were, pretending to have someone in order to gain some respect from your new coworkers. What kind of girl would say these things to a man like him? You were clearly out of your mind. The only good thing about it was that Steve would probably walk out of your apartment and never come back again.

“Please don’t think I’m laughing at you. It’s… a bit funny, I mean, that you think there’s nothing you could do with your issue.” He grinned at you, almost pouting like a little baby. “Think of it, you just need to ask some guy you know to pretend he’s your boyfriend. Ask him to come with you to this holiday event, and then some time later you can say you broke up with him.”

For a minute you fell silent, staring at the guy in front of you with wide eyes.

“Wait, but I don’t know anyone here. I can’t merely go to anyone on the street and ask him to do this for me, right?”

“Well, for starters, you know me.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve x reader #romcom au #captain america

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years

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GF - Shards of Glass 2/2

After over thirty years, Ma is getting paid a visit, all thanks to the persuasion of a sweater-making, pig-loving teenager. (Here’s part 2, as promised. Hope it lives up to everyone’s expectations!)

@thestanbros

~~~~~~~~~~

Despite it being over forty years since he had been home, Stan found it so easy and so familiar as he walked down the sidewalks with his family that he could probably travel blindfolded. So many times he and Ford had walked down this way for home from the beach, just in time for dinner.

It was sad how much anxiety Stan was having over visiting his own mother, how badly his stomach was turning; he attempted to distract himself by observing his childhood home. The buildings hadn't changed much, except for the interiors. Almost every business that was here in his youth was either replaced or drastically renovated. Except for the Belgian Waffle Store, that place was bustling with people eating a late-breakfast or an early-lunch.

And there it was. Sandwiched between the waffle joint and a new shoe store was the old pawn shop that had been transformed into a comic book store. Mabel grinned and rushed up to the windows, pressing her face against it to get a good look at the displayed comics. "Wow! You should feel right at home, huh Grunkle Stan?"

He snorted a quick laugh. "Bet this place'll make more money now than it ever did for our old man."

Mabel entered with Dipper by his side. The old men lingered but eventually wandered inside. Ford was gently reminded of a comfortable library. Where Pa's shelves of expensive products used to be now had beanbags and a coffee table in its place. A desk stood where his desk once stood, now hosting a young lady with brown hair in a ponytail and she smiled. "Hi! Finding everything okay?"

Mabel hopped on over while Dipper stalled, intrigued by a science-fiction comic book he had heard of but never read. "Hi! I'm Mabel! Is Caryn Pines here?"

The young lady grinned and nodded. "Oh yeah! She's home, just go up these stairs here and knock. Sweet lady, let me and Lindsey room with her for cheaper rent, she's the best roommate anyone could ask for. Friends of her?"

"You could say that," Dipper said easily and started for the stairs, the ones that led to the door for the living room. "C'mon."

Mabel and Dipper entered the closed-in stairwell with the grunkles behind them, halfway through, Ford stopped them. "Wait, kids, maybe… maybe you should say hi to her first."

Mabel turned and gave him a warning look with her hands on her hips. "You're not gonna run away, are you?"

"No, that's not what I had in mind." Ford said, though it didn't sound like a bad idea. "This is a lot to take in, so… maybe we should do this gradually."

Stan nodded. "Yeah, let her say hi to your kids first, okay?"

Dipper and Mabel exchanged looks and then nodded, agreeing that this was a good idea. Mabel then hurried to the door and knocked cheerfully.

"C'min."

Mabel opened the door and grinned at the sight before her. Sitting at her window, though her glowing pink eye long gone, Ma Pines sat with her ankles crossed and some knitting in her hands, still in white heels, but now sporting a red skirt with a white sweater and her long hair, now silver-white, was still up in her bun and she could never say no to her golden earrings and bracelets. Her eyes were just as keen as ever and she held herself up with that same confidence she always had. At the sight of her great-grandchildren, she smiled calmly and said spookily as she sat her knitting aside, "Ah, I've been expectin' choo two."

Mabel gasped with shining eyes. "Really?!"

Ma laughed and waved her little fib away. "Nah, that's just something I used to tell customers." No longer playing pretend, she grinned and opened her arms, "Now c'mere and hug this old lady!"

Mabel had never seen such a beautiful smile. She ran into her arms and hugged her tightly. She smelled like an old lady, maybe too much perfume with a hint of freshly baked bread and… vapor rub? Some sort of lotion? Whatever. Dipper soon joined the hug and Ma's thin arms hugged them tightly. The twins wondered if she would ever let them go, but soon she held them by the shoulders to look at them.

"Look at choo." Ma awed. "Just look at choo… You're both so beautiful. You're both almost adults. Holy Moses, who gave choo two permission to grow up?"

Mabel giggled and squeezed her hand. "It's so good to see you, Ma! We've really missed you!"

"I've missed you, too. Your father doesn't brin' choo down here nearly enough. Speakin' of which, where is Alex? Browsin' the store?"

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Actually, he's still in California with Mom."

"We came here with someone else," Mabel said open-ended.

The older pair of twins, who were listening at the door, exchanged petrified looks, but they knew they couldn't leave their mother waiting any longer. Ford opened the door and they both stepped in silently to allow Ma to react as she saw fit.

Stan pulled off his beanie and held it with both hands while Ford pocketed his hands in his jacket. The old scientist swallowed and looked down at the carpeted floor. His twin did the opposite, his eyes locked on his mother as he took in her appearance and how she had changed. At the same time, she was staring at her sons with a hard expression on her face, both stern and difficult to read.

Ford took in a deep breath and muttered, "Hello, Ma."

Stan cracked a nervous smile and quipped, "You look good." And then he mentally kicked himself. What the hell was that?!

Ma stood and Dipper and Mabel moved aside. Everyone in the room was nervous, except for the old lady, who had a collective atmosphere to her that terrified everyone even more, unsure of how long it would last. When she was only a step or two away from her grown children, Ma said quietly, "So, choo finally decided to come clean?"

The men whose father named them both Stan stared at her in astoundment. "What?" They both gasped.

"Stanley, sweetheart," Ma sighed with a smile and she shook her head. "Choo might pull a great impression of your brother, but I know choo better than that. Even as kids I could always tell the difference. Always." She bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears. "Now, do I get to hug my sons or not?" She croaked with open arms.

Stan's bottom lip trembled and Ford just stared as he realized just how wonderful his mother truly was, and then both grown men quickly embraced her and held her tightly.

"We're so sorry."

"Please forgive us."

"We're so sorry."

"Please forgive us."

"Choo darlin' idiots," Ma said and squeezed them back tightly, as each face was buried in her shoulder and everyone's breathing was much more controlled now. "It's okay."

"Ma, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Stanley…"

"No, I mean it. I should've…"

"I should have done more when I had the chance…"

"Stanford…"

"We're so sorry."

"Please forgive us."

"Hey, hey," Ma was now rubbing circles into their backs. "It's alright. It's alright. I always knew and already forgave choo."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Stan asked.

"I knew choo had your reasons." Ma replied calmly. "I trust my little free spirit."

They heard a sniff come from behind Ma and they all looked at the teenagers to find Mabel scrubbing her eyes with a fist and Dipper rolling his eyes at his sister with a small smile.

"Sweetheart, you're not cryin', are you?" Ma asked lightly.

Mabel shook her head. "N-No…" Her smile unwavering through her white lie.

Ma chuckled and let her boys go. "Well, you two owe me an explanation, and I got a feelin' it's gonna take a while. How 'bout some tea and cookies?"

"Yes, please." Mabel said and followed her great-grandmother into the kitchen to help.

It was like when Ford first came out of the portal all over again. Except this time they were in the warm sunshine, but the cold basement. Except this time they sipped on hot tea and nibbled on old gingersnaps. Except they began the storytelling from when Ford sent the postcard and skipped to when Dipper and Mabel first arrived in Gravity Falls. Except this story had a much happier ending. And the four visiting Pines silently agreed to keep Bill Cipher in the dark and they made it sound like at the end of the summer Ford and Stan rekindled their relationship on their own without needing a mind-wipe to do it.

By the time the sun was setting on the buildings, Ma was wearing Mabel's new purple sweater and she was nodding and satisfied with the tale. Really, when her sons gave it some thought, it was ridiculous to think they could pull the wool over the eyes of not only one of the greatest conmen they have ever known, but their own mother.

Now it was time for Ma to have some fun. When filling her in was over, Mabel gleefully requested, "Tell us embarrassing stuff about our grunkles!"

Ma laughed and stood. "Hold that thought, sweetheart. I have something you'll like…" She went to a bookshelf and pulled out an old black photo album. She opened it and sat next to Mabel, lying the book on her lap. Mabel gasped and grinned to find two newborn babies lying in a crib and sleeping together, wrapped burrito-style in blankets and they had little hats to keep their heads warm.

"AW!"

"Yup, that's when we brought the boys home." Ma laughed as Dipper looked down at the pair of twins in the black-and-white picture. "Choo know, Stanford was born first, but the whole time he was without Stanley he cried his whittle heart out…"

"Ma!"

"What, it's true."

"Since when do you love the truth so much?" Ford asked cheekily and smiled at her playfully.

"Alright, mister, let's see how your niece likes this picture…"

"SAILOR SUITS!" Mabel screamed and her eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, OH MY GOSH! You guys were so cute!"

"Oh, this is them getting a bath…"

"MA!"

After half an hour of embarrassing her sons without mercy, Ma gave Mabel the scrapbook only asking that her great-granddaughter take good care of it and use it to blackmail her sons. It was time for the sailors to return to the boat, so she stood at the back door in the neatly-kept alleyway and hugged the kids goodbye. She snuck in a kiss on each of their cheeks before looking at her sons.

Immediately her expression turned cold and she growled, "And if any of choo knuckleheads pull a stunt like that again…"

It didn't matter that the twins were in their sixties; they were just as terrified now as they were in their youth. They nodded in sync and Stan said, "I swear, Ma. And… we'll do a better job staying in touch. I promise."

Ford nodded in agreement and Ma's expression immediately softened. "That's all I want." She said with a smile. "A phone call every so often is all I ask for."

Ford nodded and smiled. "We'll call you. We love you."

"I love you two, babies, c'mere." With one last squeeze and a swift kiss on each of their cheeks, Ford and Stan finally found the strength to let her go.

As they walked down the sidewalk and headed for home, the two pairs of twins looked back and found Ma still standing there and waving them goodbye. They waved in return and turned around for their next adventure.

#GF #gravity falls #ma pines #ford pines #stan pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #fanfiction #june 15th #ANGST AND FLUFF #mostly fluff

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

lover series - daylight

Pairing: Carter Baizen x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: this is what happens when i mention carter baizen more than once a day. also daylight just fits him as a person??? if you wanna listen to daylight while reading this, here. this was inspired by an ask i got in this blog, thank you for the idea 💕

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in Everyone looked worse in the light There are so many lines that I've crossed, unforgiven I'll tell you truth, but never, "Goodbye"

- Get out.

- What? - Carter looked at the blonde sat next to him whose eyes seemed to wander to everyone but to him. - Don’t be like this. You’re just nervous about meeting your dad.

- I don’t need your help anymore or ever again. I should have done this on my own from the start.

- Fine, if that’s what you want. - he opened the door of the limousine, climbing off the comfortable warmth of their vehicle to be greeted with the darkness and coldness of New York during the warmth. Serena, without as much as looking back at the man who had spent a full year helping her find her father, ordered the driver to keep going. Well, he should’ve known better but once again, his judgement tended to be clouded whenever dealing with pretty women.

Once again he was all alone again, nowhere to go, no one to talk to. He could just fell his parents awaiting for him to return to them on his knees begging to be taken back but at this point there was too much damage done and Carter was much to prideful to return to them. In all honesty, Carter was much to prideful to even stay with New York. After the mess that had been his relationship with Serena, no doubt the rest of the Upper East Side was gonna go after him with every single little dark secret he had, and he had plenty of those.

With that in mind Carter decided to do what he always did; start again. That’s what he always did when things went south or when the world became too suffocating. However, after doing humanitarian work and a documentary, he wondered what he could do next. Lost in how to reboot his life for what seemed like the millionth time in his young years, a little fall of rain from the sky started to wet his cashmere black trench coat. He bite his lip out of frustration. Of fucking course, that was just what he needed right now. Before he could let out all his frustrations by kicking a nearby bin, drops of water stopped falling on his coat and instead sounded like they were falling onto plastic.

- Are you alright, sir? - a melodic, magical-like voice broke through his mind and his eyes travelled to a woman standing next to him. She was holding a plastic umbrella over him which kept both of them dry and away from the rain. Unlike him, she was dressed in a lesser quality fabric, using what looked like a blue waitress dress and some off brand white sneakers with her hair pushed into a ponytail, everything merely covered by a worn out black cotton trench coat. - Sir?

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you I've been sleepin' so long in a twenty-year dark night And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

Suddenly, he remembered a faithful sentence from one of the movies he had seen during his youth, finally understanding its meaning. They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops. It was true, time did stopped, everything seemed to move in incredibly slow motion, he could see every single blink of the most gorgeous pair of eyes he’d ever met, hear every drop of rain hitting the plastic of the umbrella. However, the later part of the sentence was also true, once time starts again it moves extra fast, and none was that true as a honking bus drove through a puddle of water, waking them both from a dream-like trance.

- I saw you being kicked off a car from my diner. You look like you needed help. - she pushed a few of the fly away hairs of her ponytail held together by a blue scrunchie behind her ear. Unlike the girls of Upper East, they weren’t adorned with pearls or heavy jewelled earrings. - Do you wanna come in for a bit, just while the rain doesn’t calm down?

Carter still found himself still staring at her. God, where had she been hiding his whole life? Did she just decide to pop up now that he had been truly humiliated by Serena. Serena, who was even Serena? He didn’t think he’d ever want to think about Serena, Blair, Beth. Who were any of them compared to that woman holding an off brand umbrella over his head as if he wasn’t one of the most hated people in the Upper East. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t enter any lower ranked places but her smile and comforting aura just made him want to follow her anywhere she went. And so, with a nod, he followed her inside a small diner just in front o the place he had been so unceremoniously dumped. The place was small and empty seemingly with her being probably the last employee before closing time. Nevertheless, there was some charm on the beat up, too used black board by the kitchen window with various pie names written in beautiful chalk calligraphy.

- Do you want to eat anything? My treat. - he wondered why she wasn’t charging, why a woman who clearly was much lower than him status wise and could clearly see he was rich offer him something. Normally people would try to quickly rip him off. - I bake them all myself. A new one every single morning.

- You bake a new pie every single morning? - he took a seat on one of the red leathered stools by the main table. - Is this your place?

- No, I just work here but one day I’m gonna have my own place, my own pie shop and people are gonna come from all over the world to try my pies. - she seemed to get lost in her own fantasy before opening the lid of one of the various glass pies stands to take what looked like a wild berry pie slice, serving it perfectly on a freshly washed plate. - A little wild, wild, berry pie.

- Pardon? - he asked as she slide the plate towards him, handing him a fork at the same time.

- The pie. - she pointed at the board. - It’s the title. Cream patisserie with some berries on traditional pie crust. I got the idea while watching a particularly steamy scene on Sex and the City.

- You created the recipe?

- Where do you think recipes come from? - she smirked at him. - Come on, I promise it’s not poisoned.

Carter gave her a coyly smile before sinking in his fork in the beautiful berry coloured desert, taking a piece before bring it up to his mouth. As the sweet touched his tongue, he swore like he melted away from his whole body. The taste was fantastic and Carter was certain he had never tasted anything better than that small piece of pie.

- God, this is fantastic.

- Thank you, I try my best. - she smiled. - I’m Y/N, by the way.

- Carter Baizen.

Luck of the draw only draws the unlucky And so I became the butt of the joke I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked Clearin' the air, I breathed in the smoke maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down Maybe I've stormed out of every single room in this town Threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it's morning now It's brighter now, now

- Olivia? - Carter mockingly called out, looking around his hotel suit as he wrapped a burgundy red tie around his pristine white shirt. A small high pitched giggle came from behind the leather coach. With a coy smile, Carter slowly moved towards the couch. - Oh, where could my Libbie be?

Another high pitched came from behind the coach and before the three year old could realise what was happening, Carter had already grabbed her by the waist, throwing her to the ceiling before catching her in a fit of giggles, her inherited curly brown hair stuck in front of the same eyes she had definitely gotten from her mother. The little girl giggled once more, tiny arms coming to wrap themselves around her father’s neck.

- What are you two doing? - Y/N came out from her bedroom due to all the giggling. Noticing her daughter in her father’s arms she merely rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. - I thought you were supposed to be in bed.

- We’re just playing hide and seek. - she replied, hiding behind her father’s neck. She surely knew how to avoid confrontation. Y/N merely laughed, walking up to her husband and daughter. - Do you really need to go, mummy?

- It’s just for a few hours. We’ll be here when you wake up. - Y/N pulled some of her daughter’s hair away from her round, chubby baby face.

- Why can’t I go? - she pouted.

- You wouldn’t like it, baby. - Carter kissed her cheek before handing her to the nanny who they had hired specifically for tonight. Usually Y/N and Carter didn’t hire nannies as they would rather spend time with their daughter rather than having a complete stranger. Most of the times, Olivia would either be at the pie shop with Y/N or at Carter’s firm office. However, tonight specifically both Carter and Y/N needed to attend a donators gala hosted by none other than Carter’s old fling Serena van der Woodsen. Initially, Carter had been firm on his decision not go, much too uninterested in ever speaking to her or any of her friends ever again. However, after some convincing on Y/N’s part and how he shouldn’t really care about other’s opinion and just enjoy a nice night out, he had caved in. - Trust me, daddy won’t like it either.

- Tuck me in?

- Okay, baby. - Y/N took over from the nanny, picking her daughter up against her hip before walking away from the main room and into the bedroom of the hotel suit. Carter took to pushing the sheets away from the mattress as Y/N laid her daughter in, puffing her pillows just the way she liked it and pulling the duvet up to her neck. - Now you be a brave good girl for mummy and daddy, okay?

- Okay. - she nodded, holding onto one of her many stuffed animals. - Night, mummy. Night, daddy.

- Goodnight, ladybug. - Carter placed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead before getting up and following his wife out of the hotel room before he could change his mind. His life had gone a completely one eighty every since seeing the group of people he used to hang out with during his youth. He had gotten married to the love of his life who was fiercely by his side no matter what happened, had started his own firm finally riding himself of his parents name, and had brought in the most precious daughter to the world. Whatever happened in the Upper East Side was no longer something that interested him even if he was one of the most wealthy men in New York. He didn’t want Y/N or Olivia to frequent those rotten and cruel places. They were happy in their own little bubble however, sometimes, like tonight, he had to confront the rest of the whole who seemingly still had his eyes on him.

Noticing his tenseness, Y/N intertwined her hand with his, giving him a soft and understanding smile followed by a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

- You’re gonna be fine, you’ve done way better than everyone in that room. You didn’t inherit what you have, you built it and you should be proud of that, Car.

- Well, you have to say that, you’re my wife. - he moved his face slightly so he could kiss her properly. - I can’t believe you’re my wife.

- You asked me on a good day. - she looked at the engagement band stacked with her wedding band, simple in silver, nothing too big or too lavish, just something small that both of them liked.

They were both escorted into the limo with Y/N immediately cuddling up next to her husband unlike so many of his girlfriends before. In all honesty, Carter sometimes thought he was dreaming. He just couldn’t believe he was married to her and if he had told a younger self he would marry someone outside the Upper East circle he wouldn’t have believed it, yet here he was. She was a magnetic, kind, determined woman who had managed to get him out of a rut and push him to his full potential while still living her own dreams. He thought he couldn’t be more in love with her and then she gave him Olivia. He still remembered that faithful New Year’s Eve when she handed him a pregnancy test or when they had to rush out of one of his dinners because she had begun labour. There was nothing in this world that mattered more to Carter Baizen than his girls, something the rest of the Upper East didn’t really understand. However, he was happy, he was happily married, happy with his career and happy with his little ladybug.

- Car, are you coming? - Y/N snapped him out of his daze as they reached the gala’s location. Pushing away all the insecurities he had, he pridefully walked down the stairs with Y/N by his side, catching the attention of every single person who stopped their chat to look at the “disgraced” Carter Baizen and the so called “pie girl” he had married.

- Should we dance? - he gave her grin, offering her his hand eloquently much to her enjoyment. - I wish to dance with the prettiest lady in this room.

- Prettiest girl in the room? - she giggled, taking in his hand while the other one held her waist. - Should I ask how many girls in this room you’ve used that line with?

- Well, Mrs. Baizen, you’re definitely the only one I’ve used that on.

- You better not be lying to me, Mr. Baizen.

- I love you so much, Y/N. - he leaned down to peck her lips, not caring who was watching.

- I love you too, Car.

I once believe love would be burning red but it’s golden like daylight

#sebastian stan #carter baizen #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #carter baizen x you #carter baizen x y/n #carter baizen x reader #carter baizen imagine #carter baizen drabble #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan drabble

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