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raineydays411 · 3 years

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Thanks T

Summary: A dad is supposed to be your rock. Someone you can go to when times are hard. Someone whos supposed to protect you. WHat happens when your dad doesn’t fit the bill, and Tony does?

A/n: Hello yall! So this story hit really close to home for me lmao. It was mentioned that there aren’t any good dad/step dad Tony fics so I hope you like it. Everyone thank @alphaandromedae97 and an anon for this fic.

Hope yall enjoy!

Your life was complicated.

How can it not be when Tony “billionaire playboy” Stark is your step dad.

Yes you read that right, step dad. It’s funny really, turns out he has a thing for waitresses that aren’t interested in him at first. That waitress being your mom.

They met when she was working a shift at the restaurant she works at, and he came in with Avengers. He expected her to fall at their feet like everyone else did, but she just scoffed and asked for their order. Pretty epic.

Then one long montage later, and they ended up getting married. You were happy for your mom, of course. Deep down, Tony is a good man and you knew he’d do anything for your mom. And he’s always been nice to you, making sure you were okay with him proposing and then you moving upstate with him and your mom. He always made sure you felt included, maybe a little too much. He actually took interest in your life, which you’ll always appreciate.

But you were a total daddy's girl by heart. You always felt like you had a close relationship with your biological father. He was a good dad, he took you out to movies, went to recitals, and always made sure to take you to the father-daughter dance your school district put on every year. It was your tradition. But after your parents divorced a few years ago, it seemed like he was getting more and more distant from you. He stopped calling as much, would skip out on your days to visit him and when you did visit, he’d lock himself in his office, claiming he had to finish some paperwork. It broke your heart, knowing that a man you were so close with, seems to be detaching himself from your life. But, in his defence he always managed to take you to the father-daughter dance. He always did. No matter how long the both of you went without seeing each other, no matter how long you haven’t spoken, he always made sure to take you.

That act alone, reassured you that he did still love you. He was just busy. In fact, you were getting ready to go to the final father-daughter dance, as you were going to graduate this year and therefore you would be too old to attend the next year. This year was especially important to you. You wanted this night to be perfect.

And you were positive your father would pull through as he has the past years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were filled with excitement as you tried on multiple different dresses. You always liked this part of getting ready, the dress shopping.

The confidence you feel when you finally found the right dress. The happy feeling you and your mother had, browsing through the dress shop downtown. Tony offered to buy you a custom designer dress, but you couldn’t accept. This was the shop you’ve been going to since you were a little girl, since you went to your very first dance with your dad. Call it nostalgia or tradition, but you couldn’t shop anywhere else.

“ Hey ma! I think I found the one.” You shout from the dressing room, finally finding your dress after hours of searching.

“Come out here and let’s see bug” She replies from where shes seated. You take a deep breath, soothing the wrinkles on the dress and walking outside. Your mother gasps as she see the gown. It was beautiful really. It was a glittery, lilac purple floor length dress with spaghetti straps. And it even had pockets! You were absolutely obsessed. Plus, you could probably use it as a prom dress if you really wanted to.

“Oh baby...you look so beautiful...” You mom says, tearing for the millionth time.

“Ma, are you crying again?!” You laugh, “ Come on, that's the fifth time you’ve cried since we’ve been in the store!”

She laughs with you, sniffling as she wipes her tears,” I’m sorry, but you’re getting so big, it feels like it was only yesterday we were walking in this shop to get your first dress...and now...” She starts to cry again.

You smile softly, understanding what your mom was saying. You were in kindergarten when you first started attending these meetings, now you’re a senior in highschool.

“Alright, no more crying. It’s a happy day for you. Has your father called texted you when he was going to come pick you up?” Your mom asked wiping her tears.

You frown, “ No, I haven;’t hear from him since two weeks ago when he said he wanted to get lunch.”

You can see your mom roll her eyes in the mirror, “ Mom he’s just busy. I’m sure he’ll call when he can.”

“Oh sure, I just hate that he doesn’t answer you fast enough.”

“I know ma, but he has work” You argue, “ He calls when he can, and that's okay.”

Your mom sighs, knowing that you were stubborn when it comes to your father.

“ Well, let’s get this wrapped, Tony wants to get lunch and we need to convince him to get something other than shawarma.”

You roll your eyes, “ God, what’s with that man and shawarma. It’s like his life line or something”

“I know!”

After the two of you buy the dress, you pick up Tony from the HQ. You loved the drive up there,mainly because of the scenery, but also cause you can see Cap running laps outside.

“Hell my love, hey kiddo” Tony greets switching seats with your mom.

‘Hey T” You greet, smiling at the man.

“Did you find the dress?” He asks, driving away from his place of work and to a restaurant.

“Yeah! It’s like the one I told you I wanted. I was surprised it was there to be honest.” You reply, “ Mom practically dehydrated herself shopping though.”

“Oh? How many times did she cry this time? Cause she was crying earlier when she was getting read-- OW! Hey I’m driving” He exclaims as your mom swats his arm.

You giggle at their antics, chest warming with the sight of your mom happy again.

“She cried five times while we were shopping. Five!”

“Five? I didn’t know the human body had that much water.”

The two of you chuckled as your mom made an offended noise.

“I hate that the two of you get on so well.” She pouts, “ And excuse me if I’m a little sad my baby is growing up so fast.”

You tune out the rest of their conversation as your phone buzzes.

Dad

Hey kid, I’m gonna have to meet you at the school tomorrow. I have a meeting that’s gonna run late.

You

Okay daddy, I’ll see you there <3

You frown, your dad always managed to pick you up from the house. He used to take you to eat before the dance. And he always used to take the day off, devoting his time to you.

“ Uh oh, someone's frowning back there.” Tony remarks, “ What’s wrong kiddo, did a character off that show you like die/”

“Uh no, ma do you think you can drop me off at the dance tomorrow? Dad said he has a late meeting and won’t be able to pick me up.”

Your mother makes eye contact with Tony. They both know how your father has been flaking on you and how it breaks your heart that he does. It makes Tony especially mad because it remind him of his childhood. How his father really didn’t pay attention to him unless he was criticizing his life choices.

“ Hey y/n, I can drop you off if you want.” Tony offers, “ I really don’t mind.”

You smile, “Thanks T.”

“No problem kid.”

And with that he pulls into the restaurant parking lot.

As your family is seated, you take a quick look around the restaurant, wanting to see the reactions of the patrons when they realize Tony Stark is in the building. But as you do, you see a man who looks very familiar. But before you can take a closer look your mom interrupts you.

“Y/n, you know it's rude to stare.”

“Oh sorry mom.”

So you take a seat and continue with your meal. You tune out your mother and Tony’s conversation as you can’t take your mind off of that man. You take a quick glance back while your parents discuss the dessert menu.

That’s when you realize that the man was your father!

You stand up from the table and make your way towards the man. Surprised to see him there because as far as you know, he’s supposed to be in a meeting right now.

“Daddy?” You ask cautiously. The man tenses up before turning to you.

“Y/n? Honey what are you doing here?” You notice he doesn’t make an attempt to get up and hug you.

And you also notice the second plate of food across from him and a napkin stained with what looked like lipstick.

“Um, T and Ma wanted to grab dinner.. I thought you were at a meeting?”

“This is a five star restaurant, and you just stopped in?” He asks ignoring your question, “ Of course Stark did..”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Everytime your mother was even close to being happy, your dad always found something wrong with the person she was with. But he seemed to have a strong disliking towards Tony for some reason.

“Um right...So you told me you were in a meeting? That’s why I couldn’t come over after dress shopping?”

“Right! A meeting...I’m currently in right now.” He says quickly looking towards the women's bathroom, “ You should go back to your table hon, my boss is really strict”

“Oh right, sorry” You say dejected, “ I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” your dad says with a soft smile, “ I love you Bug.”

You smile at the nickname your parents gave you, “ I love you too pop.”

And with that you walk off, back to your mother and Tony. You can see they’re trying to hide the fact that they were watching by covering their face with the dessert menus.

“Oh here you are, we got you a tiramisu” Tony says nonchalantly, pushing the dessert towards you.

“Uh huh” You hummed teasingly, “ Dad says hi by the way.”

“ Oh does he now?” You mom said not convinced, “ That’s nice of him.”

You hummed, mouthful of cake signaling that you were done with the conversation. Your family finished up their meals and signaled for the check. As you were walking out the restaurant, you turned to say goodbye to your dad, only to see his “boss” was back from the restroom.

Only this boss was a 5′3, brunette bombshell in a tight red dress and having her neck kissed by the man you call your father.

Your stomach felt sick.

“Oh gross, I really didn’t need to see that.” You mutter catching the attention of Tony who was behind you.

“See what kid?” He asks following your gaze, “Oh. Yikes is that even allowed? I didn’t know your dad was a vampire.”

You snort, “ Oh god T, that's disgusting.”

He just laughs and pats your head, “ Come on, lets go before your mom yells at us.”

You smile, but you wondered why your dad didn’t tell you that he was on a date. Or that he was even seeing someone?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thoughts of your fathers secrets where wiped from your brain as you scrambled to get ready for the dance the next day.

Tony surprised you and your mom with a mani-pedi day at 10am and a hair appointment for you at 1pm. After you had to get shoes for your dress at the mall and then be home by 5pm to get your dress and makeup on, take pictures, and then be out the door by 7pm to take pictures with your dad, then finally be at the dance by 8pm when doors open.

The whole day you were messaging your dad about how excited you are, getting similar replays back. He pays for you shoes and complements your hair.

Your heart swells as you think about how hard it was in the beginning of the divorce. But your father always tried his best to spend time with you and made sure you knew he loved you.

It was hard on you at first, but you appreciate that he tried for you. The fact that he’s been taking you to this dance since you were a little girl is proof enough. You were a little sentimental, this was your last dance after all.

You smiled looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked beautiful in your dress. Your makeup was done to perfection and you had gotten a silk press in your hair. You felt like a princess. You heard your mom sniffle.

“Mom, again?” You laugh,turning to face her.

“I’m sorry! You just look so beautiful!” she says with a sad smile, “ God, you grew up so fast bug”

You roll your eyes, but feel the tears spring to your eyes as well, “ Ma! Stop I can’t ruin my make up”

You both laugh as you fan your eyes

“You ready?” She asks, “ Tony’s waiting for you in the living room.”

You nod, gathering your things and walking out the door. You let your mom walk down the stairs first. You can hear Tony and you assume Happy in the living room. You finally make it down the stairs. It turns out it was Tony, Happy, and Peter Parker. Your mom was chatting with them and they all had their back turned to you.

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, catching their attention.

You see Peter stiffen as he gazes at you and mutters a soft “Wow”

You blush, what can you say he’s a cutie.

Happy gives you a comforting smile.

And Tony?

He has a soft look on his face, “ Jeez kid, you clean up well.”

You laugh, “ Better than you old man, what's up with the pants?”

He had on Iron Man pj pants.

“Oh hush.” He laughs, “ You look beautiful kiddo.”

You look down with a grin.

“Oh pose for some pictures!” You mom says excitedly, “ Go Y/n, by your self first and then with me. Then with Tony.”

You sigh, knowing how long it was gonna take.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally after three million pictures, your mom and Tony drove you to the school.

“Okay bug, is your dad here?” Your mom asks looking around at the group.

“Yeah! He should be inside.” You say kissing your mom goodbye and waving to Tony. You show the ticket and waltz in the gym.

You smile and wave at classmates and parents. These people you’ve known since you were a child and who knew you. You finally got to the table you always sat at woth your dad.

It was empty.

You frown and look at your phone.

On my way pop!

It said the message was read.

“He must be on driving” You think to yourself as you sat at the table.

But then twenty minutes passed. Then an hour. then two

You were still there, waiting for your dad to come. You sent five messages and they all remained unopened.

You looked around the gym, seeing a few parents looking at you with pity in their eyes. You can barely stand it.

You got up and went to the restroom, trying not to cry. and in the restroom you tried calling you father, but you were sent to voicemail. The you finally got a message.

Dad

“I’m so sorry bug, I can’t make it to the dance. I have a meeting today. :(”

You felt dejected. Humiliated.

Your father has rearranged visitation days, skipped out on little crimonied and rectitals you’ve had, but this by far was the most disappointing thing he has done.

He promised multiple times that he’d be here. Never has he ever skipped out on the dance before. ANd he knew how important this was to you. Thi was your last dance, and he ruined it.

You let yourself cry. You sobbed as you realized that your father has been distancing himself from you. That your relationship hasn’t been okay for a while. And you just didn’t want to let go.

You sigh as you realize you’ve been in the restroom for a while. You stand up and look at your face. Despite the red eyes and slightly red nose, your make up was pretty much intact.

“Huh at least my setting spray hasn’t let me down.” You say to your self. After a few mintues of calming down, you walk out of the restroom and bump into a figure.

“Sorry” you mutter about to pass the person.

“Gee you took a while in there, I told you not to get that coffee kid.”

You quickly look up and se Tony.

Dressed in a suit, flowers in hand.

“Hey kid.” He says softly

“what..what are you doing here?” You whisper, tears filling your eyes again.

“Well apparently you need an rent a dad, and I happened to be in the neighborhood.” He jokes, then says, “ I’m sorry your dad didn’t come kiddo, and I know I’m not him, and quite frankly I’m glad I’m not. But I do love you like you’re my own, and well...yeah here I am.”

You stay quiet, looking at Tony in wonder. Touched that he did this for you.

“Of course if you just want to leave then we can just get out of here” He rambles nervously, “ But you gotta tell me kid cause I’m kinda freaking out.”

“Can we get ice cream after?” You ask him

“What?”

“After the dance, we should go get ice cream.”

“Uh sure?” Tony says, “So what do you usually do at these things?”

You laugh and steer him to the tables where they have all the activities at. You actually have more fun with him than you had recently wit your dad. Tony is definitely more competitive than your father and treats every game as a challenge. Not like something he’s humoring just for his kid. He celebrates with you instead of telling you to calm down. He chats with the adults, is nice to the kids, and does the goofy dances with you. Seeing Iron Man do the chicken dance is something you didn’t know you needed till now. He managed to turn this horrible night to one of the best ones you’ve had in quite a while.

Finally the father daughter dance started to signal the end of the dance. Tony bowed dramatically and said in a horrible british accent, “ Lady Y/n?”

You laugh and make your way to the dance floor. You’re both quiet for a bit, snorting at how serious the other dads and their daughters look.

“Hey T?” You say softly, looking at the ground.

“Yeah kid?”

“Thank you. It’s nice to know that one of my dad's isn’t a total asshole.” You say. knowing that this is the first time you referred to Tony as your dad.

His eyes get misty as he clears his throat,

“Anytime, bug”

#tony stark x teen!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark #tony is a step dad #step parents #fluff #tony is a good dad #reader insert #x reader #marvel x reader

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years

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My-Crack-ulous: Aku-Maid

In which I am a horrible person...

No seriously. Don’t read this.

For @mermain123, for bringing up the cursed image that started this mess in the first place.

Mermain: i said i was suffering

Mermain: i didn't want you to make the internet suffer

Me: That sounds like the internet’s problem.

Also for @bloody-writes. You know why... ; )

_________________________

Hawk Moth was a supervillain who had been terrorizing Paris for the better part of two years.

But no one could really argue that not all of his ideas have been good. Or well thought out. Or in any way sensible even.

Like the time he akumatized a baby.

Or the time he akumatized a girl to transform people into exact replicas of herself.

Or the fact he keeps akumatizing Mr. Ramier for going on 29 times at this point…

Or the other time he akumatized a baby…

Times that he destroyed Paris. Times that he nearly destroyed the world. Times that he gave people powers that were completely contradictory to the goals of getting the Miraculous he was after by erasing the heroes from existence or transforming them in ways that made the Miraculous inaccessible.

But none of his akumatizations had ever gotten him as much hate, caused as much misery, were were ultimately as pointless as this most recent incident.

Aku-maid.

It was known the instant she was akumatized. As soon as she was transformed, a wave of power enveloped the city. And within that wave, half of the people of Paris were transformed as well.

…the male half.

Her power was to transform all the men of Paris. She didn’t even have a weapon or attack that did it, it just happened almost instantaneously. All men suddenly found themselves changed.

Or rather, their outfits…

“Ah!”

“What the hell—!?”

“I can’t get it off!”

One by one, every male in Paris suddenly found themselves in a much different state of attire. What had just been a normal day full of various styles and appearances had all suddenly become very…frilly.

“WHY AM I A MAID?!”

Much as implied her namesake, the akuma’s power involved transforming whatever any man was wearing into some variation of a maid outfit.

Every man.

All over Paris.

From Andre Bourgeois, who has refused to leave his office to make an official statement…

“ANDRE!” Audrey shouted, banging on the door. “Get out here this instant!”

“But, honey, I can’t be seen like this!”

To Roger Raincomprix, who has tried to continue his normal duties despite the…change of uniform…

“Stop in the name of the law!” Roger shouted, reaching into his pockets in an automatic reaction to try to get his handcuffs. While the dress he was wearing did still have pockets, the only item they procured was a cleaning rag, which was notably less threatening as the suspect in question stared for a moment before deciding to take off.

“HEY!”

And yes, even to…

“I’m a Macrophage!” Adrien gushed happily as he lifted his lengthy skirt to give a twirl.

…even to Adrien Agreste, who was apparently the only one to find anything pleasant about the current crisis.

Nino stared.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I’ve always wanted to cosplay!”

Nino, having been long-since exposed to his friend’s deep love for anime in its many forms, at least knew what a Macrophage was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about the way Adrien took to the long pale dress and cap.

Kim rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Just let the guy enjoy this.”

“At least somebody is.” Nathaniel muttered bitterly as he tried to hide as behind his sketchbook. It was a futile attempt, of course, as he at most only covered his face, leaving the red dress, white apron with pockets, and knee-high boots on full display.

“I don’t understand how he can.” Max complained. He tugged at his own skirt in vain, looking at Adrien’s ankle-length ensemble enviously. The skirt was much shorter than he would have liked—reaching a couple inches above his thigh and almost seemed to be defying gravity to stay that way despite his attempts to get it to either flatten or otherwise lower. “I question the design choices.”

“But you look just like Misaki from Maid Sama! And Nathaniel looks like Lizbeth!” Adrien insisted. “It’s totally a cosplay!”

Max just stared incredulously. He was wearing a black dress with puffy sleeves that tapered off just shy of his elbow, white apron, a cap, and thigh-high black stockings and knee-high boots, it seemed Adrien did have a point.

Max, in all fairness, didn’t particularly care in favor of the problems that came with suddenly finding himself in a short dress, heels, and a corset.

“I just can’t peg where Kim or Nino’s outfits are from.” He continued, studying the outfits in question contemplatively. “But give me a little time! It’ll come to me!”

The boys had been having an afternoon hangout session in the park. No girls. No teachers. No Gabriel Agreste or bodyguards to whisk certain teen models away. It was supposed to be a normal non-drama-filled day.

…which was naturally when it became something less than normal and certainly more than drama-filled.

“I think I get why girls complain about this sort of thing now.” Kim said, looking at his shoes. “These heels are kind of uncomfortable…”

“Are you sure it’s the heels and not the flippers?” Nino asked, annoyed.

Sure enough, Kim was wearing flipper-heels. They were black and also had black ankle straps with a little bow on each. This strange footwear did seem to go with Kim’s talent in swimming, which was also emphasized by the ruffle maid swimsuit they matched with.

“Nah, it’s definitely the heels.” Kim insisted.

So this was what their all-boys’ afternoon had come to.

Kim was wobbling on unsteady heels.

Nathaniel groaned and kept his ever reddening face covered.

Max was questioning where they could procure jackets. Long jackets.

Adrien was giggling to himself and asking if they could do a full Cells at Work group cosplay.

And Nino paled, suddenly realizing something.

"Guys. Guys, we have to hide!"

"Why?" Kim asked. "It's annoying, but this akuma doesn't seem really dangerous."

"No, you don't get it!" Nino hissed. "If Alya catches us, we will NEVER live this down!"

Nathaniel looked over the edge of his sketchbook. “Alya wouldn’t actually post pictures of us to the Ladyblog, would she?”

A long pause followed.

The boys paled.

Except for Adrien, who turned to them with a gasp of excitement. “Do you think she would? We could do a group picture!”

All the other boys paled even more, looking downright ill.

And immediately took off running.

Or at least as well as they could with heels. None of them made it very far without tripping, stumbling, or simply struggling to stay upright as they still tried to move away from the area as quickly as the heels would allow.

“But what’s wrong with—?”

“JUST RUN, ADRIEN!”

“Who thought maid outfits with high heels was a good idea?! How can anyone be expected to clean in these things?

“I will never draw high heels on a super heroine again.”

“I can’t breathe! Who created corsets?! What objective does this achieve besides crushing one’s lungs?”

Nino groaned, still running. “I hope Hawk Moth is suffering as much as we are!”

_____________________

If Nino Lahiffe had the ability to break the fourth wall and peer into the events happening outside of his immediate vicinity, he would be happy to find this was actually the case.

And he would laugh.

Oh, how he would laugh.

“Sir…?”

“Don’t.” Came the dark growl from a very unhappy supervillain. “Don’t say anything, Nathalie..."

This was an akuma that impacted every male in Paris. Every male.

…even to Hawk Moth, himself.

“Why did this happen?”

It would appear that even Hawk Moth was not immune to Aku-Maid’s power as he had been similarly transformed. And unfortunately, due to the change, he could no longer access his Miraculous. The Butterfly broach had disappeared, having been transformed along with his outfit.

And his outfit had…actually left much to be desired.

Which was truthfully just a nice way of saying it was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

Normally the picture of stoicism, Nathalie had to pretend to cough to avoid reacting.

“Can’t you order the akuma to undo it?” She eventually was able to ask.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes in concentration. “No. It’s no good. I’ve lost the link!”

His eyes widened and he clutched his chest in a panic.

“Where is the Miraculous?!” Hawk Moth demanded, trying—and failing to pull at the tasteless dress. But as others across the city had already discovered, the clothes were magic and would not be removed or displaced. Not even the frock or the cap he now wore.

“Sir, you were transformed when you changed. It looks like the Butterfly Miraculous was transformed along with you.”

He froze, eyes widening in horror. “But that’s—”

He grasped at the empty place on his chest. Where once had been his lapel and pin now only had ruffles and a leathery texture. His mask remained in place, though it was now fully black except for the openings around his eyes and mouth, which were bordered with a lighter grey color. The material and outfit overall had a shine to it that could be found on any wetsuit.

To put it nicely: he looked atrocious.

To put it bluntly: he looked like some sort of BDSM role-player with a maid kink.

So it was fortunate, perhaps, that no one else in Paris would have to be subject to the sight.

Except Nathalie. Who was probably going to have nightmares.

Or a coronary from the laughter she was trying to hold back.

It was admittedly a bit hard to tell.

But it seemed she was handling the situation a bit better than Hawk Moth, despite the fact that the man was currently unable to see himself or the full extent of the monstrosity he now wore.

…this was probably for the best. Given the man’s fashion sense, there was really no telling whether he would be horrified or inspired, and nobody would want to find out.

“I can’t contact the akuma! And I can’t call it back!”

He moaned, covering his…already covered face with his hands. “I’ll never be taken seriously again!”

Nathalie resolutely held back from pointing out he was barely being taken seriously now.

“It’s…not that bad?” She tried. Not very well, but she tried.

Hawk Moth clutched his head in horror. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir can stop this akuma, we’re doomed!”

“Sir, it’s just an akuma that puts men in maid outfits. It’s really not that bad.”

“DOOOOOOMED!!!”

__________________________

The akuma, for her part, was unaware of her benefactor’s misery, too busy enjoying the abject misery of everyone else around her.

Nobody knew just what had set the girl off to get her akumatized in the first place. Her comments about men being “the eye-candy now” suggested an argument. The maid outfits involved suggested what the topic of the argument had been regarding.

To be honest, nobody had actually realized she was the akuma responsible. She did appear fairly normal by akuma terms, dressed in a seemingly authentic Victorian era dress more befitting as an authentic Lady’s Maid compared the frillier, lacier varieties that the men around her had suddenly found themselves in. What would normally have gotten her a few odds looks was mostly ignored in the face of the sudden change. Few even took notice of her dark purple skin or black hair. Or the fan in her hand.

“THAT’S RIGHT! SEE HOW YOU LIKE BEING OBJECTIFIED!”

The yelling…was a bit harder to miss.

It was the first thing that drew the attention of the three girls settled at the cafe.

The second thing was the various cries of horror as several of the men around them suddenly discovered their state of dress transformed into…well…dresses. Of a variety that made the little cafe appear more like a maid cafe than anything.

The third thing was the appearance of a familiar face running down the road, holding up his long white dress to make running easier as he looked for a place to hide.

Marinette stared.

“ADRIEN?!”

Adrien Agreste was running around in a long white and pale cream Victorian-era dress and cap, looking like Cinderella running from the ball. Except a maid.

A quick glance to her companions showed that both Alya and Kagami were similarly staring in befuddlement, so this was neither her imagination or a fever dream.

“Adrien? What’s going on?” Alya asked for everyone.

“It’s an akuma!” He replied, quickly. “She’s putting everybody into cosplay!”

“…cosplay?”

“Yeah!”

“…everybody?”

He paused, glancing around. “Well…all the guys, I think?”

Marinette stared.

“…Just that?” Alya asked, thankfully taking over while Marinette’s brain started to become aware that this WAS Adrien she was talking to. “She’s not doing anything else besides putting guys into…‘cosplays’?”

He blinked in confusion. “I…think so?”

“She isn’t…I don’t know…commanding you or anything?”

“Well, she hasn’t yet. Which, really, isn’t so bad for an akuma if you think about it.” He said with a frown before he noticed the strange look on Kagami’s face. “Kagami, are you okay?”

Kagami made a strangled sound.

“Marinette?”

Marinette pretended to choke on a drink from an empty glass to avoid speaking.

“Can I add to your order?” The waiter came by, seeming unconcerned by the ruckus or the act that he was now wearing a rather cutesy maid outfit the likes of which would be seen in a maid cafe in Japan.

“You don’t seem put off by this.” Alya pointed out, noting his relatively unfazed attitude compared to the panicking of the other men around them…or the gushing from Adrien.

The waiter took it in stride.

“It’s okay.” He replied blankly. “I’m already dead inside.”

“Oh.”

He turned to Kagami. “Do you need anything else, Miss?”

Kagami was still staring at Adrien, blushing furiously.

“I think I have a problem.”

“You mean a kink?”

“A. Problem.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Story of my life.” The waiter replied as he refilled her glass of water, either unaware or uncaring of the specific nature of her trouble.

Alya gasped in sudden realization. “Wait! If this is happening here then…” She turned to Adrien. “Where were Nino and the boys?” He blinked, curious. “Oh, they decided to head home. Why?”

An almost sinister smirk formed on Alya’s face. One that would have anyone it was directed at cowering in fear. And strong enough to be felt from several blocks away.

Unbeknownst to them, Nino felt that smirk like a trail of cold fingers down his back, and promptly threw himself into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

As if she sensed this, Alya slammed several bills on the table and dashed out the door.

“GOTTA GO!”

Realizing an akuma was about, Marinette was right on her heels. She found a nearby alleyway and immediately prepared to transform and face this latest threat.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” She broke down, letting out the laughter she’d been trying so hard to hold in. “He’s a dork! The boy I’m crushing on is a complete DORK who is in to cosplaying! He thinks maid outfits are COSPLAY!”

…or she would be.

“And here I’ve been driving myself nuts with anxiety over just asking him out and he doesn’t even—”

Any minute now…

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to stop the akuma!”

“Can’t I just take a picture first?”

“MARINETTE!”

“Oh fine…”

_____________________

Luka didn’t realize anything had happened. He felt a bit off balanced for a moment, and a bit colder, but attributed that to being on the Liberty. So he simply shifted his stance to be a bit more steady and continued playing. It wasn’t until the drum stopped that he realized something was actually wrong.

The look of shock from Mylene and the following shriek from Ivan cemented it.

He spun around, not sure what could have elicited such a cry from his fellow bandmate. And at first, he couldn’t really tell what had happened. Ivan was crouched behind the drum set, covering his face with his hands and trembling in what appeared to be mortification.

Then he noticed the mobcap on Ivan’s head, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. And Ivan’s shirt seemed distinctly…fluffier and frillier than he remembered seeing a few minutes ago. He tried to move closer to offer help, only for his own balance to be off. And when he looked down…

Oh.

The dress was new.

As were the stockings.

And the notably thinner and sleeker heels on his boots.

He hummed to himself, considering the change.

“Akuma?” Juleka asked him.

“Most likely.” He replied.

Mylene had rushed up to their practice stage and to Ivan’s side, even as he moaned for her to not look at him. The poor guy was completely red in embarrassment. Seeing how upset he was, the other three had backed away, leaving Mylene to try to help her boyfriend.

“Luka, are you okay?” Rose asked worriedly, trying to respect Ivan’s need for space while also checking in on their other effected bandmate.

“I’m fine. It was just a surprise at first.” He replied.

It wasn’t every day that you suddenly found yourself in a maid outfit, after all. It was a simple outfit. White off the shoulder puffy sleeves with black frills. A black tube skirt. White apron. And…he reached to his neck where a weight was, feeling a choker.

Huh…

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Honestly, he could be in worse.

Rose seemed surprised at that. “Really? Even with those shoes?”

He looked down at the shoes in question. The boots were his style—surprisingly, given it was an akuma. The higher heels were definitely different from his norm, and clearly what Rose was referring to. In any other circumstances, she would be right.

But...

Luka smiled, shifting his stance and resting a hand on his hip. “Well, someone had to teach Jules to walk in heels. And I couldn’t show her if I didn’t know how myself.

Juleka huffed. “Don’t say that like you didn’t enjoy playing dress up.”

Luka merely curtsied, not only showing off more of his slightly ripped and punk-looking fishnet stockings, but almost proudly displaying his ability to move fluently in heels.

Rose appropriately “oo-ed” and “aah-ed” at his display. Juleka merely shook her head and smiled. Ivan was still recovering from his panic attack and had resolutely refused to come out from behind the drums, despite Mylene’s reassurances.

“So it has to be an akuma, right?” Rose asked.

“If it is, I want a picture or two, at least.” Juleka muttered as she admired Luka’s outfit, mumbling about commissioning Marinette to recreate it in her size. She hadn’t known maids could come in this style.

Mylene nodded from her place at Ivan’s side. “Though it seems rather fortunate if this is all the akuma is doing.”

“We don’t know if that is it, though.” Luka warned. “For all we know, there could be some other ability she has if she catches us. It would probably be safer if we hid out inside until this is over.”

The others agreed. And Anarka, bless her soul, actually came up with a large blanket for Ivan to wrap himself in to preserve his dignity. Then she and Mylene helped the taller teen to safely relocate to inside. Much like Luka, Ivan’s shoes had changed, but he was substantially less able to maneuver in them. And no amount of effort or force on his part could seem to separate the heels from his feet.

Once he and the others were inside, Luka moved to follow. He hesitated, however, at the sound of something landing behind him.

“Viperion? We’ll need your help.”

He turned to see Ladybug standing tall. And was that perhaps a hint of blush on her face?

Oh.

A shame.

It looked like Juleka wouldn’t be getting her pictures, after all...

_____________________

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He shuddered, backing away from the door as far as possible.

“Ninoooooo…”

It was a fight for survival.

“C’mon, Nino. Just open the door.”

The survival of his dignity, but still!

He’d lost track of the others and immediately rushed home and to the safety of his room. His room, which he could lock and hide away in until this all blew over.

“I have a key!” Came Chris’s voice. “Somewhere…”

“Give it and I won’t take any pictures of you.”

“Deal!”

His room, which his traitorous little brother was willing to allow the enemy entry into.

Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be this desperate. But if Alya caught him like this…

Black dress. Puffy at the shoulder, sleeves that extended to his wrists and were bound by white cuffs. A white smock tied back with a white ribbon. White bow at the neck and white frills along the bottom of the dress?

Oh yeah…Alya would never let this go…

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten into all those anime Adrien pushed him into! So what if the maids were cute? And sure, he’d admit he's had a thought or two of Alya in such attire...

But how was he supposed to know Alya had such thoughts as well? And in the complete opposite direction! Clearly this was the akuma’s magic punishing him!

Nino looked to his window.

It would be a long fall, but it was his only escape.

But would the broken legs be worth it when Alya would soon figure out what he did and be able to catch up to him easily?

Maybe he could try to climb up instead…but in these heels? It was suicide!

“Fufufu!”

…screw it.

He opened up his window, only to meet a new pair of eyes.

Ladybug stared in surprise from her place at his windowsill, a certain box in hand.

“…hi?”

“Oh thank god!” He exclaimed. He took her by her shoulders, half leaning out and half pulling her in. “Alya’s insisting on taking pictures! Please tell me you have my Miraculous with you!”

“Actually, about that—”

“I don’t care! I’ll do anything! Just please—SAVE ME!”

Ladybug looked back behind her to a distant rooftop and the other allies she’d left behind.

The sound of a key jingling could be heard and Nino stared up at her, pleadingly.

Well, she could never resist the eyes…

By the time they’d gotten the door open, the room was empty.

Nino was gone.

_____________________

Six heroes stood assembled.

Ladybug.

Chat Noir.

Carapace.

Viperion.

King Monkey.

Pegasus.

Six heroes.

Five of whom were male.

And…still wearing some semblance of feminine maid-like outfits.

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried.

“What the hell?! I thought the Miraculous were supposed to change us into our hero suits?” Nino groused.

Contrary to his hopes and expectations, using the Miraculous had not transformed him into his normal Carapace look, but had rather simply given him a different outfit. The dress itself was green and had a turtle shell pattern, while the apron and waist belts were a brown color. The bowknot around his neck was a dark green and a brown to match the apron. He wore stockings. And to his very limited relief, his shoes were flats instead of heels.

“Well, at least this skirt is longer.” Pegasus said, now wearing a dark brown blouse and bicycle skirt. The skirt went to just above his ankles, for which he was grateful. But this seemed to be countered by the increase of height to his heels.

Plus no corset. The outfit was still fit tightly and not very comfortable, but at least he could breathe now.

“Though I believe we’re getting away from maid-wear now.” Chat said, conversationally.

Pegasus gave him a flat look. “I’m not complaining.”

If Chat had witnessed his earlier ensemble, surely he would understand.

King Monkey, for his part, seemed somewhat appeased with his Miraculous suit. It was a notably more Eastern style of dress, appearing more like robes worn by palace servants. He wore a light brown waistcoat with wide sleeves over a blouse and a wrap-around skirt. It looked heavy, but Kim seemed to have no trouble with it. Maybe it was made of a lighter material…?

And Viperion’s dress was different in style as well. Whereas his maid outfit as Luka had been more punk, this was more sleek. Wearing a green sleeveless dress and white smock, as well as what appeared to be a green corset. The dress had a slit at the sides, giving more maneuverability for his legs…as well as more show, given the appearance of a garter belt and stockings. His shoes were high heeled but including a beautiful snake design that wrapped around his ankles. To finish it off, rather than remain bare, his arms were covered in what appeared to be loose green sleeves that started at his elbows and extended to his wrists.

…maybe a picture or two wouldn’t hurt? Or three? Because the amount of details on these outfits were amazing and she was just brimming with ideas now…

Ladybug broke out of her musings when someone tugged on her shoulder to get her attention.

It was Chat. Chat who, much like the other heroes, as dressed in a fantastical outfit. Though a maid outfit, it was definitely more cat-themed with a giant paw-like gloves covering his hands, a paw print on his apron, and bow and bell on his tail which rang as he shifted.

What material was that made of, anyway? She kind of wanted to give it a feel and see if she could find something to compare it to. Maybe a quick sketch?

Oh. Right.

Akuma.

Maybe if she was lucky, they could finish this quickly so she could rush back home and take notes while she still had the ideas bouncing in her brain.

…maybe someone would have gotten pictures by then…?

“Ladybug?” Chat whispered, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?”

Chat frowned in concern. “Is the Guardian okay with this?”

Ladybug froze.

“PSST! Ladybug!” Came a voice from a nearby rooftop, drawing her attention.

“Master Fu?”

“Ladybug! Here’s the Miracle Box. Take as many allies as you can and resolve this as soon as possible!”

“Master? Are…you hiding in a box?”

“No questions! Just go!”

“…he’s fine.”

Chat seemed uncertain, but decided not to pry.

“Let’s just split up and find the akuma.” Ladybug said. “But don’t engage until we’re all together!”

With that, the six split into three groups, with Chat and Carapace going one way and King Monkey and Pegasus going another, leaving Ladybug and Viperion searching together with the former trying not to get caught stealing peeks at the latter.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a smile.

…trying. The key word was trying not to get caught.

“No! Nothing!” She replied quickly. “I’m just…surprised that you can still move so quickly in those heels.”

“I’ve had practice.” He explained, still smiling. He even lifted one leg behind him, managing to stand perfectly balanced even on one leg in heels.

“I…see.”

Part of her wanted very much to laugh. It was the same part that had found this entire day ridiculous. The other part of her was her inner artist at work and really wanted to make a few sketches inspired from the presented outfits. Like Viperion’s sleeves…and those shoes with a snake coil wrapping around the ankle…

“Ladybug!”

Gaah! Focus!

She turned towards the shout to find King Monkey and Pegasus stumbling towards her.

Her fingers twitched. She ignored it.

“We found the akuma.” King Monkey reported. “She doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Just…kind or roaming around.”

“And laughing.” Pegasus added bitterly. “She appears to be doing a lot of that.”

“How’s THAT for ‘doll them up’?” Came a shout from street level. “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?!”

As if on cue…

Ladybug and the others peeked over the edge of the roof.

“Has she displayed any other powers?” She asked.

“No.” Pegasus replied. “From what we could see, her power has already been activated to…obvious effect.” He hesitated, resolutely avoiding mentioning his new outfit or the indignity he’d already suffered. “She has only been laughing. And tripping the occasional person while searching for someone in particular—possibly the one responsible for her ire.”

Ladybug nodded. “At least she’s distracted and doesn’t know we’re here. We just need a plan of attack before we try to fight her.”

“No problem!” King Monkey said with a grin as he reached for his weapon. “We can just do a head on attack with our weapons and—”

They stared.

In place of his staff was a broom. A normal cleaning broom.

They sent cautious glances to each other before they checked their own inventory.

Said inventory consisted of a broom, a bucket, and a feather duster.

“I believe that constitutes as a problem.” Pegasus stated worriedly.

“That’s no fair!” King Monkey exclaimed. “Adrien was able to summon a machete!”

Ladybug blanched at that. “A what?!”

Pegasus pushed up his glasses. “I believe it’s a component of his…‘cosplay’?”

“Pfft!” Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ladybug?”

“I-it’s nothing!” She replied hurriedly.

Viperion raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t comment.

King Monkey at least seemed to take it in stride.

“Now we just need a plan for attack!”

“With what?!” Pegasus questioned, waving the feather duster in frustration. “Our weapons don’t work!”

“More like our weapons aren’t actually weapons.” Viperion said, considering his bucket.

“I could smack her.” King Monkey offered, holding up his broom. “Maybe your feather duster has dust on it and could make her sneeze?”

Pegasus gave him a flat look.

“I think the broom is the best weapon we have right now.”

“Don’t knock a bucket!” King Monkey commanded, resolutely. “I got one stick on my head one time and it took hours to get it off! Buckets are evil, man!”

Pegasus sighed and rubbed his head. “It concerns me that you’re the second person I know whom that has happened to.”

Ladybug coughed, discretely trying to draw attention off that particular subject lest identities be at risk. “Anyway, I think I have a plan...”

______________________

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult of an akuma. Especially not with six of them teaming up against it.

Akumaid truly see to have no ability other than the initial one of transforming what any male in Paris was wearing into something embarrassing...unless you were Adrien, apparently. Aside from that, she showed no other power—neither over the clothes themselves or the people wearing them. Well, she wasn’t controlling any of the victims or shrinking the clothing to choke them at any rate...which if you think about it, was rather lame for an akuma in the power department.

The only real disadvantage in battle came in the difficulty the boys had moving freely in their current outfits. And the afore noted lack of proper weaponry.

Their advantage of surprising was ruined by Chat’s bell ringing before they could ambush her, and both Carapace and Pegasus losing balance with their heels and falling over. King Monkey’s outfit, while longer, also meant more fabric to flap about and resist his movements regardless of how light it may have been, so he wasn’t able to get a hit in fast enough before the akuma turned on him and knocked him away.

Chat was able to get a hit in though.

With his…Kitty Wand…

“THIS IS MAGICAL PUNISHMENT!” He shouted as he smacked the akuma over the head.

“Chat. Chat no. Chat why?”

And Ladybug had hopelessly lost her composure by this point and was laughing. Just laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying actual tears as she smacked her own thigh in her struggle to breathe. Viperion was trying to help her stay standing, keeping an arm around her to support her as she half leaned and half chuckled tears into his chest.

“What’s going on? Does the akuma have some power over Ladybug, too?” King Monkey asked.

…

Viperion sighed.

“Sure. Something to that effect.”

Ladybug wheezed.

“LADYBUG!”

“Lu-haha-lucky haha-charm!”

It said something when her own Lucky Charm magicked up a paper bag. With Ladybug still victim to her fit of giggles, Viperion simply put the bag over her face and had her try to breathe.

“A paper bag doesn’t help with out of control laughing.” Pegasus noted as he forced himself to his feet.

“Do you want to try to figure out the Lucky Charm?” Viperion bit out in annoyance, Ladybug still shaking in his arms.

Pegasus coughed and backed away. “No, thank you.”

Ladybug let out another giggle.

“All right, enough! I’ll stop her!” Carapace shouted, reaching for his back. “With my…serving plate.”

His shield.

His precious shield was gone.

“…Carapace?” Ladybug asked.

The newly rendered Turtle Maid sighed and simply threw the plate as he had his shield, not expecting much.

…the plate slice flew through the air at a surprising speed, but missed the akuma entirely. Instead, it sailed past her, hitting a light post.

Ladybug had expected it to bounce, but instead there was a sound of shredding metal as the serving plate actually tore through the lamp post and into the concrete itself.

The lamp post, now detached, tilted and fell over—conveniently on top of the akuma before she had the time to realize what was happening and move out of the way.

SLAM!

It fell on top of her and she hit the ground.

“Huzzah?” Kim asked.

“Well…that’s one way to defeat an akuma.” Pegasus marveled.

“Great. Now can we fix this already?” Carapace asked impatiently. If they took too much longer, someone was bound to catch them.

That someone would probably be Alya.

And that was the last thing he wanted at this point.

“But I kind of wanted to make a sketch at least…” Ladybug muttered to herself, holding the paper bag Charm to her chest.

“LADYBUG!”

She waved her hands insistently. “I’m on it!”

But she could dream…

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

It was with some disappointment that the Miraculous Cure wiped away the outfits of the other heroes, returning them to their original costumes.

“OH THANK GOD!”

“That was…horrible…”

“Corsets were invented as a torture method, I swear…”

“Shieldy!” Carapace exclaimed, hugging the shield in relief. “Never leave me again!”

“You okay now, Ladybug?” Chat asked her in worry.

“I’m fine.” She said, even though she wasn’t really. She felt like she’d missed a chance, even if it was for the greater good. But it would have been an abuse of her power to be taking pictures of the guys in that state and she already felt bad enough for breaking down laughing in the middle of the fight.

In that moment, however, the loveliness of ladybugs that made up the Cure returned from their task of restoring Paris to flow over Ladybug herself before vanishing, leaving her holding an envelope in their wake. Curious, she opened the envelope…

She gasped.

Inside were a multitude of photos of the other heroes. From different angles. In different positions. All of them in their new outfits.

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding and drawing attention to herself.

…Thank you, Tikki.

Best. Kwami. Ever. “Ladybug…” Carapace said in growing wariness. “What is that?”

“Nothing!”

“Ladybug. That better not be what I think it is…”

She shoved the photos back in the envelope.

“It’s nothing at all!”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Noticing the stand off, the others approached as well.

“It was just something I was missing, yeah.”

“Then let us see it.”

“Can’t.” She replied, clutching the envelope to her chest. “It’s…Ladybug stuff.”

“Hand it over. Right now!”

"NOOO! THESE ARE FOR THE FUTURE OF FASHIOOOON!”

“GIVE US THE PHOTOS!”

“Wait—did she get any of all of us in a group cosplay pic?”

“NOT NOW, CHAT!”

Unfortunately, that small distraction was all she needed to get away.

Viperion, the only one having been pretty nonchalant this whole time, simply watched her leave and the others shout after her.

“…isn’t she going to take our Miraculous back?”

_________________________

Angela sighed, already dreading what was to come.

It was a humiliating end to an already humiliating week as the former akuma victim had been forced to return to her job to go over the updates for the new Ladybug game with the rest of her team.

Said updates were apparently to include maid outfits for the female heroes thanks to one particular coworker who had decided to work on maid outfits for the female heroes instead of the level he was assigned. It had been part of the reason she had been angry enough to be akumatized.

The fact that he was insistent on shoving his maid fetish into the game for no good reason other than having them be eye candy was the other part.

The images in question that he insisted on bringing featured the three female super heroes of the city: Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee.

But not as anyone had ever seen them.

Instead of their usual hero suits, the three girls were portrayed in sultry, even provocative poses. And most notably, all three were wearing some mockery of a French Maid outfit…as what would be believed by Americans, no less.

They might as well have been the initial sketches of pinup posters.

“You can’t still be serious!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got akumatized just because I was jealous that someone else had a good idea.” He said bitingly and giving her a pointed look, perhaps still a bit bitter of the aforementioned experience that her akumatization had caused.

“It’s not a good idea, John.” Angela countered. “There was no reason to have the girls be running in maid outfits.”

He shrugged. “We could just say an akuma did it. After all, we did just get an akuma who did exactly that.” He said, giving her another look.

She clenched her fists and was about to retort when their team lead entered the room.

The meeting commenced and she’d been forced to bite her tongue. Each of the team members went over their progress and updates for their contribution to the game. Level design. Enemies. Testing.

And then came his grand achievement. Instead of the level he was assigned, he gave scantily clad designs for three of the eight known heroes.

What effort.

“I was thinking we really need to include something to make our game stand out, so I made some extra skins for the heroes.” He bragged, sending her a smug look. “The appeal would sell plenty of copies.”

“Or the controversy.” Angela muttered back before turning to the team lead and hoping that the man leading their group had more empathy…or sense.

The team lead looked over the designs with an analyzing gaze. Tiffeny, despite the initial impression his name would give, was a rather buff man who took no shit. But was also a guy. Who liked guy things. But did those things include young women in maid costumes?

After a moment, Tiffeny dropped the pictures on the table and looked at John incredulously. “You know, if you were going to base skins off recent events, you could at least have been authentic.”

John stared. “What?”

“It was the guys who were affected by Akumaid. Not the girls. If we’re going to do maids, we need to keep it true to life, just like the rest of the designs we’ve included. We talked about this when we started this project.”

“But it’s what the audience wants!” John argued.

“Do you know who comprises the majority of our audience?” Tiffeny asked. “Girls. Girls, gay guys, and those who are exploring their interests. Guys in the outfits would sell leagues more than the girls.” He started ticking his fingers “It’s different. It’s original. And it’s based in actual events. People would love it.”

“But…they’ll love this!”

“Man, if people wanted to see sexy girls in skimpy clothing, they’d play literally any other game! Or watch porn.” Tiffeny explained. “But what game do you know of has had guys in maid outfits?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. We want to stand out. And we even have recent events as justification. So if you’re going to be wasting time you should be spending on level-making to put people in maid skins, then get those male heroes some maid costumes.”

“But that’s not fair!” John exclaimed.

Tiffeny paused at that. “Hmm…you’re right.”

With that, he turned to her. “You’re good at designing. Make some butler outfits for the girls. Something dashing to serve as a counter for the guys.”

Angela blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling.

“Sure thing!”

“You know…” one of the other workers noted. “While we’re on the subject, I WAS thinking of some medieval armor designs for the girls and princess dresses for the guys.”

“Hey yeah! Like a light green for Viperion!”

“Maybe teal might be better?”

“Ooo! How about…”

Soon enough, everyone seemed to be invested in the new plan.

Everyone that is, except John.

“Lovely!” Tiffeny said cheerfully. “Plan it out and bring the concepts to me later.”

With a new task in hand and John’s pouting to forever be a memory to hold onto, it seemed her day was looking up…

_________________________

“That was some akuma battle.” Marinette said as she slid into her seat next to Alya.

The reporter, however, only looked annoyed. “Ladybug had apparently called all the male heroes and I completely missed it!” She groaned and leaned back in her seat, bemoaning the lost opportunity.

If she’d hadn’t been so focused on tracking Nino for the purpose of collecting blackmail ensuring his safety, she would have been able to catch all of the male heroes in their maid outfits.

Marinette smiled. “You know…I may have a connection…”

Alya gasped.

“No.”

Marinette giggled and slid over her phone with a picture showing.

“NO WAY!” She cried out before staring up at Marinette in shock. “Girl, you have to send me these!”

“Wait—you have what now?” Nino had arrived, initially hopeful that he had avoided the worst of that day only to have those hopes immediately dashed upon arriving to see the two girls sharing what could only have been one thing…

“I have pictures of the heroes in their new outfits.” Marinette replied cheerfully as she swiped through her phone. “Oh look, Nino! You’re in here, too!”

“WHAT?! NO!” He shouted, rushing forward.

Marinette quickly grabbed back her phone and hid it in her pocket with an overly sweet and not at all innocent grin.

“Mari, come on, no! Don’t do this to me!” He begged.

“Don’t do this to ME!” Alya cut in. “You can’t just show me that and take it away! That’s just not fair!”

“Don’t worry.” Marinette assured them. “It’s going where all my blackmail material goes.”

“Wait what?”

“Since when do you have blackmail material?”

“Since somebody started a game of ‘let’s take pictures of Marinette while she’s asleep and post them online’.” Marinette replied dryly.

Nino groaned. “Come on! I said I was sorry!”

“And now I can be just as sorry.” She replied blithely.

Which was to say: not sorry at all.

“Come on! Alya made me do it!”

“It was just in fun! Marinette! Please!”

“Do you want me to beg? Cry? I’ll cry.”

“I’ll pay you! Pretty please! At least the heroes if nothing else!”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“My blog NEEDS this!”

Marinette smiled at the minor chaos she had caused as the normally happy couple bickered with each other.

Sweet sweet music.

“Hey, Marinette!”

And speaking of sweet…

She turned to look up at a certain blond-haired model as he arrived at his own desk. Though he seemed to be a bit distracted by the arguing couple.

“Hey, Adrien!” She greeted, for once with no stutter to speak of.

“Hey, um…are they okay?” He asked, gesturing to the two.

“Oh, they’re fine.” She said, waving them off. “Just…a bit excited over the recent akuma.”

At that, Adrien brightened. “Wasn’t it awesome?”

She nodded, trying to keep her laughter inside.

“You…ah…enjoyed yourself then?”

Adrien shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, it’s not often I get to dress up in a way that’s ‘silly’. Or in anything that isn’t promoting Father’s brand. And I’ve never gotten to cosplay. So it was…really fun.”

Oh. Ouch. Okay, that one kind of hurt. The poor Sunshine Child…

“You know…” Marinette said, leaning over her desk and smiling at him. “I’ve seen a bit of that one anime you mentioned.”

“Cells at Work?” He asked, brightening up.

She nodded. “Mmhmm. I could make you a jacket based off the lead Red Blood Cell. And if you like, I can keep it so you can wear it whenever we hang out.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come over sometime so we can try a fitting. We could even play Mecha Strike.”

Adrien beamed. “That sounds great! Thanks, Marinette!”

She waved him off and went back to full sitting in her seat.

Alya and Nino both became distracted from their arguing by the miracle they had just witnessed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just spoken to Adrien Agreste…and not a stutter to be heard!

“What the heck, girl?” Alya whispered, sliding into her seat beside her friend. “Since when could you do THAT and why haven’t you done it sooner? I could swear I saw hearts in his eyes!”

Marinette shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “After seeing Adrien Agreste in a maid dress, I kind of wondered why I was so scared of talking to him to begin with.”

Alya laughed. “Well, at least something good came out of this, then.”

“You know...more good WOULD come out of this if I had pics of those heroes..."

“Really, Alya?”

“You’re pretty much the only one who managed to get any shots of the male heroes!” Alya exclaimed. “Seriously, how?!”

Marinette giggled.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

________________________

OMAKE 1:

Knock! Knock!

“Felix?” His mother called on the other side of the locked and barricaded door. “Will you be coming out?”

“That depends. Do you have a camera?”

A pause. Which was all the answer he needed.

“Then no.”

OMAKE 2:

Fortunately, in the midst of their searching, the team had managed to find the akuma and her primary target, getting between the two.

“So what happened?” Ladybug asked him.

John gripped his skirt, nervously. “She’s my coworker in developing a new video game and she didn’t like my input.”

“What set her off?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “She’s one of those types who wants to take the fun out of video games.”

“What?” Ladybug blinked.

“Okay, so I wanted to put some maid costumes in the game! It was just for fun! Besides, it would have added a bit of pizazz! Something for the players to enjoy!”

“You could just try making a good game.” Pegasus pointed out. “If you have to rely on a cheap gimmick to get buyers, it may not be a good product.”

"I'm sorry, really! I mean, sure, I'm still going to put it in the game, because who wouldn't want hot maids, but still! That doesn't mean I deserve this!"

The akuma raised her fist and shouted at him. “THEY ARE HEROES, DAMMIT! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN MAID SKINS JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE GIRLS!”

Ladybug blanched. “Wait…is the game about me?”

Pegasus coughed and looked away. “There have been…rumors, yes.”

Viperion tilted his head. “That seems like a double standard though…since we’re the ones in maid outfits...”

“Not the point, Viperion!”

Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t think I want to help now.”

“Ladybug!”

567 notes · View notes

legends-live-in-memories · 3 years

Text

Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century

AYO! Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle! Team Enemies-to-Lovers for the win. I bring you another oneshot. but this time i used 3 prompts like a dumbass.

Fics Masterlist

Daminette Oneshot 4.3K words (no warnings except slight cursing)

Summary:

“Marinette is invited to the Super-Rockin' Wedding of the Century and she needs a date. Alya is both her best and worst wingman.”

Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle, I used 3 prompts to make this thing: 1. "You don't have to like me, you just need to pretend you do." 2. "I like your costume. You look very cute." "Are you making fun of me?" 3. 'Write about a very unusual wedding proposal.' this is the culmination of all my efforts.

without further ado:

It was the biggest news on the internet. Global sensation, international rockstar, Jagged Stone, was officially engaged to childhood friend turned manager, Penny Rolling. Memes and fan theories stormed every corner of the web. Trending topics including #rockstar_wedding and #RollingStone permeated every social media platform. Guest lists were speculated, dress designers were tagged in every post that even mentioned the words ‘wedding’ or ‘bride’. It was total mayhem but none felt it worse than up-and-coming Parisian designer, M. D. Cheng, privately known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The young adult was up to her neck in design templates, and was drowning in half-baked ideas and sketches. While the internet has only heard about the proposal for a solid two weeks at this point, Marinette was in the know for six months. Jagged Stone had contacted her in advance because he needed her help with the proposal itself.

And what a proposal it was.

Jagged had outlined his idea in simple terms but it was still so mind-boggling that Marinette needed him to draw some visual aids to completely convey his idea. Initially it sounded simple enough but the more the man spoke, the more Marinette felt her brain fry at the mental picture. It first involved recreating a scene from Penny’s favourite movie. Which sounded rather romantic, if you ignored the fact that her favourite movie was Bride of Chucky. Then it involved Jagged dressed as the Tinman from Wizard of Oz. Oh, and the proposal had to happen on Halloween because that was the anniversary of their first date apparently, and based on everything else this plan entailed it might as well have been. Marinette’s role in all of this was to simply re-make the white wedding dress Chucky’s bride, Tiffany, wore because Penny already had the leather jacket to match. Of course she did. She didn’t even want to know how Jagged acquired the Tinman suit. Not her barrel of monkeys.

While many thought Jagged was the eccentric one of the pair, due to his loud personality and being an actual rockstar, the more Marinette worked for the two of them over the years, the more she learned how absolutely wrong they all were. It turned out it was Penny’s idea for Jagged to dye his hair purple, and she was the one to ask him out on Halloween all those faithful years ago. Her calm and collected demeanor was an impressive cover for the absolute weirdo she actually was. And Jagged had planned a proposal that was undoubtedly perfect for her. Regardless of how abso-fucking-lutely bizarre it was.

To each their own and let’s move on.

The set-up for the proposal started with Jagged, dressed as the Tinman, playing the part of Chucky, who begins the body-switching chant from the movie. Everything from that point on was resting on Penny’s love for the movie. Without hesitating, Penny, dressed as Tiffany, and playing her part, knew the lines by heart and immediately began reenacting the scene with Jagged. Her lines involved telling ‘Chucky’ to kiss her while she reaches for a knife that’s supposed to be in his pocket. Instead, as Jagged was still dressed as the Tinman, Penny pulled out a slip of paper. On said paper, the words ‘All the Tinman wanted was a heart’ were written in Jagged’s almost illegible chicken scratch. When Penny was distracted with the piece of paper, Jagged had gotten down on one knee and pulled out the engagement ring. The actual words of his proposal were never actually said because, upon seeing the ring, Penny flung herself into the man, clipping her chin into his metal-plated shoulder, but she wasn’t complaining.

So that was how the proposal went.

Wedding planning started almost immediately since the newly engaged had already picked a theme. And this is where Marinette began to regret every life choice she has made since she was thirteen; starting with opening the mysterious box she found on her desk and ending with agreeing to being the main designer for the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. One thing that wasn’t well-known but not a secret about Jagged was that he was a superhero fan. He grew up enjoying the fictional ones in his childhood comic books and he adored the real ones he witnessed in his adult life. His song that he dedicated to the teenage Ladybug was only one part of his… appreciation. His hero-worship went so far as to beieve that a hero-themed wedding was appropriate. Or he didn’t, but also didn’t care about adhering to societal propriety and went with that theme anyways. So the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century was now the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. And twenty-three year old Marinette was incharge of the entire wedding party’s outfits.

Perfect.

As a small mercy from some god, both the bride and groom to-be had a rather short list of people in their parties. Marinette was also able to design appropriate hero-themed outfits for all of them and scheduled them for fittings in the coming weeks. That, surprisingly, was the easy part as there were plenty of heroes to draw inspiration from. However, that wasn’t the cause of her current crisis right now.

No. Marinette was up to her neck in unnecessary designs and ideas because she’s been avoiding one particular contingency in her acceptance of the wedding invitation.

She needed a date.

She needed a date because she had promised Penny that she wasn’t overworking herself and to prove it, she would bring a date to the wedding. Rather than call any of the people who expressed interest in her at some point in time, she designated herself to wallow in her situation and distract herself with designs. In the midst of her one person pity party, her phone rang under the sea of ripped out pages. She scoured for the device and hastily answered before she could accidently send the caller to voicemail.

“Hello?” She didn’t check the caller ID and was delighted at the sound of her best friend answering her.

“Marinette! How’s it going over there?” Alya’s voice was mixed in with the busy street life of Metropolis. She had moved there immediately after high school, snatching an internship with the Daily Planet and attending the local community college. She and Marinette don’t call often due to time differences, but when they do it’s like they’ve never parted. She always looked forward to her calls.

“It’s going great, Als,” if she ignored her current dilemma, then yeah, everything was perfect. “But you wouldn’t happen to have an available bachelor willing to be my date to the ��Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century’ in your back pocket, would you?”

Alya’s answering laugh was both comforting and teasing and Marinette felt herself missing her even more. What she said next, however, took Marinette by surprise.

“Actually I do.”

“Pardon?”

“Well,” she took a pause to build suspense. “I know a guy who knows a guy. But it’s nothing shady, I swear.”

“That’s not comforting.” Oh god. What has she unintentionally signed herself up for?

“You know my coworker, Jon? The guy who does the photography for all my field work?” Alya had met Jon as soon as she had started her internship. Both of his parents were top journalists at the Daily Planet so he volunteered to act as tour guide for all the new interns. He and Alya, from the exasperated stories Marinette has heard from Nino, got along like a house on fire. If he was involved, Marinette was starting to doubt even further that this was going to end well for her.

“Yes, I know Jon. How is he by the way?”

“He’s fine, but I remember him telling me how he tried to set up his best friend on several dates over the years and how they all ended poorly. He’s as approachable as a brick wall; not just a prick but the whole damn cactus. Or so Jon says.” How does that sound like someone Marinette wanted to bring along with her to the wedding? “But he’s totally your type so I could ask Jon to wrap him up in bubblewrap and send him your way whenever you want.”

“How,” and Marinette said this with a lot of feeling, “is he my type exactly?”

“Green eyes with daddy issues.”

“ALYA!” Marinette was absolutely floored at her bluntness. She wasn’t even sorry about shouting into the receiver.

“Am I wrong? You have a type and he fits that type. Jon mentioned how this guy and his dad hit several roadblocks when they first met. And I’ve seen pictures of him so ‘green eyes’ checks too.”

“That is not my type of guy.” She can’t believe this was how this conversation was going.

“Adrien.”

“I didn’t even know who his father was at the time, Alya.”

“Felix.”

“His dad is dead! That doesn’t count as ‘daddy issues.’” She can feel her cheeks flaming as the call went on. Any hotter and she was going to set her sketchbooks on fire. “Besides, I dated Luka so he doesn’t fit the criteria.”

“He’s an outlier and that’s only because his eyes are blue.” Okay, fine she had a type. “And besides, you don’t even have to date the guy. You only need him to accompany you to the wedding and you both go your separate ways after. No harm, no foul.”

Right. That was true. No strings attached. She could do that.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” she held her breath and let it out loudly, ignoring Alya’s chuckle at her dramatics.” Give Jon my number to give this guy. And send his number to me.”

“Wahoo! Look at you, girl,” Alya was hooting and hollering over the speaker and Marinette found herself going along with the theatrics. “Okay, I will. But I gotta go, my cab is here. Bye!”

“Bye! Stay safe. Oh before you go, what’s Jon’s friend’s name anyways?”

“Uh, Damian, I think.” The call ended before Marinette could respond, but it was okay she mused. Tossing her phone onto her couch, she flopped down onto her floor and stared at her ceiling contemplatively.

What could go wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Alya had described this Damian guy as ‘not just a prick but the whole damn cactus,’ she was right. Marinette had been texting back and forth with Damian for a month, and the guy was making this idea seem less and less worth it by the day. Whenever Marinette tried to learn more about the guy, he would ghost her for days on end before replying with a half-assed response at best. She knew nothing about him other than that his first name was Damian and that he was from Gotham. She had no idea how the ball of life that was Jon was even friends with someone like Damian. She asked as much to Alya in their most recent call.

“How did they even meet?” She was pacing the floor plan of her apartment, ready to tear her hair out. “Did Damian bully him in school or something?”

“Apparently their dads knew each other and introduced them,” Alya sounded half awake, stifling a yawn; probably because Marinette had called her at 1 am, Metropolis’s time. “Their brothers being friends also forced them to get along.”

“And that’s another thing!” Marinette had paused in her pacing and was now staring intently at a potted plant in the corner of her living room. Any more rage in her glare and the plant would have wilted and died. “He doesn’t tell me anything about him. I don’t need to know all his personal information, but if he’s going to be flying out to Paris on my behalf, I think I at least deserve to know his last name.”

“Hey, M,” another yawn echoed through the speaker, “I love you, truly, but maybe this could wait for holier day time hours?”

“I guess,” a vindictive part of Marinette felt like this was payback for all those inopportune calls when Marinette was busy with clients. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”

“It’s no big deal. But have you tried talking to him about it? If he’s ghosting your texts, try calling him. If he ignores you then too then maybe you should try finding another person to be your plus one.”

“The wedding is in two weeks, Alya!” Marinette partially regrets waiting so long to vent her frustration about the situation but she had tried to tough it out. “I would have much preferred if you were my plus one. You sure there’s no way to convince your parents to skip out on the family trip?”

“Sorry, M. Once the news about the proposal hit the internet, I tried everything. I even tried to use work, saying that I could cover the ceremony for the newspaper. My folks won’t budge though. My dad’s aunt is important to him and he wants us all at the funeral.”

“Right, right, I forgot about that.” Now she felt like an ass. “Send you dad my condolences when you see him again.”

“Will do. Good morning, Marinette. And don’t worry too much about the guy. Everything will turn up great. I can feel it.”

“Thanks, Alya. Good night, get some sleep.”

The line went dead and Marinette let out a rather weary exhale. She had no idea how this was going to work. She pulled up her contacts and searched for what she had Damian saved as.

‘Douche’ flashed on her screen and she hit the call button without remorse. She didn’t care that it was also currently 1 am in Gotham. He didn’t deserve that much consideration from her.

“What?” His voice was gravely and deep. And also really pissed if his clipped tone was anything to go by.

“Damian? Hi, this is Marinette, the girl you’re accompanying to the wedding in two weeks?” Her voice was pitched as if she was dealing with an irritating customer. Fake and polite.

“I know who you are. Why are you calling me at this unreasonable hour?” Fair, but Marinette was still aggravated at him so she wouldn’t concede.

“I’m calling because we need to talk.” She heard him scoff over the line and she felt her blood boil even hotter. She took several calming breaths to reign her temper in. “Don’t hang up.”

“Look,” She didn’t give him a chance to refuse and kept talking, getting everything off her chest. “This wedding is important to me and I promised the bride I would bring a date. After that you can delete my number and we never have to speak to each other ever. You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”

“Whatever,” he sounded less annoyed from when he first answered the phone. “I will act as cordial as the situation requires, and nothing more. I also have my attire secured for the wedding and accommodations in Paris already prepared. I will see you at the wedding.”

“Than—” The sound of the call ending interrupted her and her frustration was back tenfold. With a cry in anguish she flung her phone onto her couch and stomped into her kitchen to channel her rage into baking.

Three loaves of bread and a dozen eclairs later, Marinette felt calm enough to finish the final touches on her outfit for the wedding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the day of the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. The Rolling-Stone’s, as they were asking to be called, had kept the ceremony small. Relatively. Only two hundred invited guests, few of which were asked to bring a plus one. Marinette was over the moon at the array of outfits people were sporting. Some chose full-on cosplay while others, like herself, went for more subtle nods to the heroes. In honour of a previous Ladybug, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, Marinette based her outfit off of Wonder Woman’s uniform, Hippolyta’s daughter. A navy blue sequined halter top bodice that flows into a blood red A-line skirt. She paired it with a thick silver belt, silver gladiator heels rather than boots and broad silver arm cuffs. It was simple but effective. Besides, all attention should be on the bride and groom today.

A tap on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned only to come face first with red with black spots. Ladybug. Someone chose her as inspiration. How flattering. Looking up to see who was wearing the Ladybug-themed suit jacket, she stared at a pair of deep forest green eyes and a sneer to ruin that ridiculously handsome face. She recognized him from the photo Alya had sent some time ago. Damian.

“Hi, Damian,” at least one of them had to be civil and Marinette knew it was going to be her. But the idea that of all the heroes for him to choose from he chose her sent her into poorly stifled fits of giggling. Images of him going ‘Lucky Charm’ and ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ were almost too much to bear.

“I don’t know what’s so amusing about my choice of attire,” his face was starting to flush in similar shades to his jacket and that made Marinette laugh harder. “Ladybug is a well respected heroine and I thought it appropriate to pay homage while in her home city.”

“No. No no. There is nothing wrong with it. I like your costume, you look very cute.”

“Are you making fun of me?” His irritation was rather cathartic for the still giggling woman.

“No, I just didn’t think you would have put that much thought into your outfit for today. You always gave me the impression that you were ready to back out at any time.”

“I made a commitment and I had all intentions to see it through the end.”

“Could have fooled me.” And her snark was back. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the guy, he did fly all the way to Paris on her behalf after all.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” and Marinette wanted to know how he managed to sound so condescending with that statement. “How did you even get an invitation to this wedding anyways? You’re not a celebrity and you don’t look like family either.”

“Actually,” she said it with more force than what was probably necessary but his slightly accusatory tone was just so irritating. “I am the lead designer for the wedding party,” her chest was swimming with confidence at the chance to talk about her job. “I’ve worked with the bride and groom for years; M. D. Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette will deny to her grave the rush of satisfaction at the absolute gobsmacked look on Damian’s face. A real fish out of water. Mouth open wide ready to catch flies. She wished she could capture this moment forever.

The moment was over too soon because Damian was regaining his composure and slipping into his default stoic expression. He cleared his throat and fixed a look at Marinette. It was rather intense.

“I believe I owe you an apology then.” He looked put-out at admitting something so menial. “I believed you were nothing more than a socialite chain climber.”

“A what?”

“When Jon reached out to me saying that a friend of one of his coworkers needed a date for an event, and when that event turned out to be the wedding of someone of such popularity, I figured you were only trying to increase your own social status by showing up with me on your arm.”

“And you said ‘yes’ anyways?” Marinette was confused but pieces of the mystery that is Damian were starting to fit in place. But something else stuck out as odd to her. “Also, how would you being my date increase my social status anyhow?”

He scoffs before answering. Bitch.

“What? It wouldn’t be the first time one of Jon’s set-ups ended that way. Besides, we’ve had an agreement that I can’t turn down an offer until meeting the person face to face.” Weird deal but some friendships are just like, Marinette supposes. “And being seen with me is enough to make anyone more popular.”

“...And you are?”

“Damian… Wayne…” He spoke as if he was talking to a small child. As if it should be obvious who he was like he was some celeb— Oh shit.

A name had flashed into her mind. On the finalised guest list, Marinette had only seen it once in passing, there was a name that belonged to someone Jagged was rather excited to see. He said the friend was an old college buddy. She remembered that much. She had completely forgotten that ‘a billionaire playboy’ was also attached to the name. Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne. Suddenly everything in the past few months made perfect sense. The cold shoulder, the ghosting, and his prickly disposition. He was overly guarded because he had justified reasons to be. Now she felt like an ass.

“Oh.” Real intelligent, Marinette.

“Oh? What, you didn’t know?” He sounded incredulous at the notion and he had every right to be. Marinette could only shake her head. Words were failing her now, her brain trying to rewrite the memories of every interaction the two ever had.

She was saved from further mortification by a call for everyone to find their seats. The wedding was about to begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ceremony was beautiful. Penny’s dress was a silver grey, tied back with a golden belt. Instead of a long train, Marinette had attached a black cape that shimmered in the right lighting. Penny wore a tiara with two peaks to imitate the ‘bat-ears.’ A Batman-themed wedding dress was not something she ever saw herself making, but she was proud at how beautiful and confident Penny looked in it. Jagged was adorn in a royal blue suit with bold red lapels. He also had a matching red cape. His hair was styled in the familiar sleek way Superman wears it. The two made quite the pair.

The reception was a lively affair. Jagged had dedicated several songs to his new wife and they dazzled the crowd on the dance floor. Marinette didn’t pay much attention to the speeches beyond a quick glance at Damian when his own father stepped up to the podium. He had buried his head in his hands, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. A courtesy pat on the back was all Marinette gave to him.

The two hadn’t really spoken much since the revelation that they had completely misjudged each other. The awkward tension was almost palpable. As Marinette was gathering the courage to speak to him, to try and officially clear the air, she was being dragged by one of the bridesmaids onto the dancefloor. It was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. All the unmarried women were being corralled into a tight cluster and Marinette got swept up in the tide.

Marinette wasn’t focusing on the actual game, trying her hardest not to get trampled, when she saw something move in her periphery. Years of being Ladybug had left her with finely honed instincts so she could not be blamed when she immediately jumped and caught the incoming object. The bouquet. She had caught the bouquet. Oh that was just her luck. Deafening squeals of delight brought her out of her own head and she was suddenly being embraced in Penny’s arms. She returned the hug, sharing in her delight, before breaking away to sit down.

“Nice catch.” His voice had surprised her, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her for the rest of the night.

“Uh, thank you. Just lucky, I guess.” Damian didn’t get the chance to respond because he was being dragged by his own father to join all the bachelors in catching the garter. Marinette was equally uninterested in this spectacle and had let her mind wander to other things.

A loud uproar caught her attention again and her eyes zeroed in on Damian holding the tossed garter. He made his way back over to her, dropping himself into his seat gracelessly. The two sat in silence, contemplating the implications of them both catching the garter and bouquet. The games were done purely for tradition’s sake, with total disregard of what it was supposed to symbolise. Still. One’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Minutes ticked passed and Marinette was beginning to wonder if someone was going to talk about the elephant in the room.

“So,” Damian’s voice was slightly strained, like he wasn’t used to being this flustered. It was kind of endearing. Wait what?

“So.”

“While marriage seems far out of reach for right now,” Oh god. He was going to talk about it. “How does dinner sound, next Friday?”

“Wait,” he wanted to spend more time with her? After their disastrous first impressions? “Really?”

“Really. I believe we started off on the wrong foot,” he let out a soft chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “Which isn’t really new for me, but it’s not everyday I meet someone who doesn’t recognise me at first glance. I think you’re someone who I would like to get to know better. If that is something you are also interested in.”

“Yeah,” Marinette knows all about wanting to get acquainted with someone who she’s had a bad first impression of. Just look at her past relationships. Wow, she really does have a type. Damning thoughts for later. “Friday works for me. Seven pm?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the details then.”

“Wonderful, I can’t wait.”

The rest of the evening was spent in companionable silence with small bouts of conversation in between. They shared a couple dances on the floor and parted ways at the end of the night with budding anticipation for Friday.

As Marinette was preparing for bed that night in the comfort of her apartment, she sent a text to Alya that her friend would see later in the day.

You were right, I do have a type :(

#maribat #daminette #maridami #mgi trope tussle #mgi- server event #enemies to lovers #speedrun #i #like a dumbass challenged myself to use three prompts and i delivered #i hope #i hope yall enjoy #tumblr do me a solid #dont hide my posts #please #im begging #ml x dc #mlb x dc #tumblr please stop hiding my posts #no beta this is tussle

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beevean · 4 years

Text

SEGA and its most recent Sonamy side – more canon than ever

[Translator’s note: this article was originally written in Spanish by @latin-dr-robotnik]

Hello again! Today we’d like to discuss about something that’s been happening recently, and probably taking Sonic fans by surprise: what is going on with SEGA and its stance about Sonamy?

At the beginning of this year, to celebrate the 200 articles on Seaside Hill Paradise, I finished what I call “the Sonamy trilogy” of articles that I started in 2018 and which cover different themes, such as:

SEGA and the eternal issue of the Sonic-Amy dynamic

“I love you” – Forbidden words in Sonic

SEGA and the eternal issue of “Sonic’s girlfriend”

The idea was to offer a more-or-less complete analysis about the many facets of their dynamic in the last 27 years; a dynamic that, you may have noticed, is not that easy to pin down, and that we’ve been updating almost regularly (although I also intended to investigate on other dynamics, like Knuckles and Rouge’s for example, and write about them). Generally speaking, in these articles I don’t draw objective conclusions about the status of the ship in canon (despite the fact that the available information tends to confirm it in various occasions). I also like to repeat myself and say that shipping is supposed to be for fun, not for tearing each other’s hair in that black hole of misery that is Twitter, but recent events left us slightly perplexed, and this is why we’re here once again.

We left the status of the Sonamy canonicity with these two peculiar instances back in August: Sonic mentioning his “girlfriend” in the Japanese version of Sonic Battle, and the Twitter account of SEGA of Europe saying Sonamy is their “favorite videogame romance”. Now, let’s recap a bit…

Sonamy in Sonic IDW... Round 3

[SPOILERS ALERT FOR IDW SONIC #14-#35]

In 2018, when IDW just started, I decided to study a little how the Sonamy dynamic worked in this new universe. To our surprise, the comic didn’t waste time in dropping its biggest bomb, in one of the cutest scenes we had seen in ages. Since the very beginning, IDW proved that it didn’t intend to deceive those fans that looked for a bit of development of both characters.

I wrote an article about it in June 2019, and it coincided with the beginning of one of the most infamous arc I’ve seen in a Sonic comic for a long time: the Metal Virus Saga. The question is, what has happened since then?

Well, in 2019, with the same accuracy of an aimbot, I said “We’ll probably see some new interactions between Sonic and Amy sometime around IDW #20”. And wouldn’t you know, as misery and tragedy settled in that arc, it was exactly around IDW #20 that we saw some Sonamy interactions: both exhausted, to their limit, with a Sonic that couldn’t even touch Amy to soothe her pain, due to him being infected with the virus.

The arc developed like this in what felt like an eternity, to finally conclude in one the most absurd ways in Sonic history. But it wasn’t a complete disappointment, as, after months and months of asking and discussing on the internet about how much Sonic and Amy deserved a hug at the end of the arc… it actually happened.

Since that moment in IDW #32, we shippers thought that it was what both of them deserved after so much time spent separated and pushed to their limit to survive, but also that after the end of the arc everything would go back to normal. However, what we didn’t know was that the Sonamy train had no intention of stopping, not in IDW, nor anywhere else.

A recurring detail in IDW Sonic is that Amy’s tail starts wagging every time she sees Sonic, as if she was a happy dog. I swear, it happens every time.

Come IDW #35, once again we have some hugs and bits of dialogue between our hedgehogs. For sure, the question here isn’t their relationship itself, as it was for IDW #2, but rather the issues this arc is slowly dealing with. But it’s really nice to see them again, sharing that closeness that they’ve had in the comic since the beginning– be it with some gestures of affection, a wink, a gesture, a private joke.

My favorite image is the first one, Belle’s reaction to seeing Amy hugging Sonic. It’s like she’s thinking “oh, is she his girlfriend?”, and she wouldn’t even be wrong in thinking that.

It can’t be denied that IDW Sonic provided us the conversations and the emotions that the games seldom do. Certainly, the comic has its share of issues and it’s not really a story that I personally follow for its own merits (it’s more because it’s still Sonic, for my interest for things like this, and Belle’s existence… whom I already ship with Tails, sorry not sorry), but what it does well it does really well.

For now, we have to see how IDW Sonic will follow the development of the characters, especially in view of the closure of the current story and beyond. And we may be done with this part of the article, but there is still a lot left.

Sonamy in merchandise

Taking us completely by surprise, recently SEGA launched, in collaboration with Hot Topic, a series of Sonamy-themed t-shirts. No, seriously.

So many people told me this as soon as the voice spread (you know who you are, thank you guys for thinking about me <3), and I can’t help being still surprised that this is actually a thing. T-shirts with lines like “You’re my favorite”, “Love in the fast lane”, and my personal favorite, “S&A Forever”, with drawings of Classic Sonic and Amy… in SEGA-approved products. I don’t know if you realize how much of a big deal this is, even more than “Celebrate the 25 years of Sonic’s girlfriend” from 2018.

One of the things that surprised me the most (aside from how explicit they are in officializing the relationship, and the fact that there are still 2 months left before Valentine’s Day 2021), was the decision to use Classic Sonic and Classic Amy. I tried to understand this decision by analyzing the simplicity and easiness with which the Classic designs convey a message (let’s not forget that Classic Sonic was so iconic because it was specifically designed to convey his expressions without words), besides the fact that they’re inherently cuter than their modern designs. There’s also the controversial aspect of post-Adventure Sonamy, with all the dubbing and weird interpretations that the fandom made over the years… By comparison, the Classic design are a much simpler choice.

What is actually going on?

Well, let’s take a step back and think about what we just saw. The way SEGA has been recently trying to push Sonic and Amy in front view (and for the entirety of 2020, based on the articles I mentioned in the beginning) tells us the harsh truth we all have to accept sooner or later: Sonamy sells, and it sells a lot.

From a strictly business point of view, the ship is so iconic and popular, with fans and detractors alike, that it would be absurd for SEGA to ignore the chance to print these two characters and get a load of money. As I said in my 2018 article, despite the fact that in Japan Sonic isn’t as big of an icon as it is elsewhere, they know pretty well that Sonic + Amy = love, and they have huge amounts of merchandise to back it up. It’s in the West that because of different cultural values, of which we’ve already talked about, along with some internal resistance, left this aspect of the franchise a little on the side. But they’ve been trying to fix it… and how…

Let’s not forget that a decade and a half ago Sonic Team seriously favored Sonamy. They officially said it, Sonic X was their purest view of Sonic they had at the time.

Outside of the business perspective, I believe we’re facing the moment that we’ve been waiting for: it’s time they’ll establish once and for all the dynamic of these two characters, following more closely the original Japanese vision of Sonic. I said many times that, in trying to change canon, the West, especially SEGA of America, did nothing but confuse fans and generate more discussions than needed, by introducing different data and portrayals that contradict the canon established by Sonic Team.

We’ve talked about Unleashed and emotional support, about Sonic X, about the major moments that opened the door to interpreting this dynamic as something more. We don’t threaten at gunpoint those who would rather stay away, but we respond to those declarations that still try to violently discredit the simple fact that Sonic and Amy, who are most of all close friends, form in some measure a couple that, even with its imposed limitations, manages to captivate fans and not fans everywhere in the world. Even the Simpsons used it as a joke, and that says a lot.

What the future has in store for us.

Unless something else happens in this last month of 2020, this is the most complete compilation I can offer at the moment about the status of Sonamy in the fandom and in the official canon. Yes, canon.

It’s impossible to ignore the signals. As you may have noticed, I’ve been considering Sonic and Amy as an official couple, with its clarifications (for example, that at the end it’s more of a friendship, that it’s not a romantic relationship in the most explicit way, that it’s more of a personal perspective to justify a more mature vision of the relationship in the future, not right now), but nowadays I think that SEGA has spoken loud and clear. I think canon is ready to negotiate the idea that Sonic and Amy, apart from being excellent friends who would risk their lives for each other in a heartbeat, have something else on their hands (probably the other’s hand). This won’t automatically translate into a kiss, or a complete love declaration (although Sonic X came close…), or a commitment to a formal relationship like we know them in real life. SEGA canon affirms that Amy is “Sonic’s girlfriend” and nothing more. Outside of that detail, they still pretty much function as friends interacting with a little flirting here, and a little Sonic running away there. It’s the basis of their dynamic, now enhanced by the fact that SEGA is giving us a clearer message.

I think that this all may culminate in a game or an animated series, but I wouldn’t completely count on that. It is good to recognize how far the official position goes on this issue, but at the same time I want to reaffirm that there are things that are better left in the hands of the fandom, and in the meantime that IDW or any other continuity gives us hugs, winks, gestures and words of encouragement, we as the fandom will take care of exploring other avenues and hypothetical scenarios.

This is all I have to say on the matter for now, and I hope you’re happy with this wonderful Sonamy experience we’re going through – I certainly am. See you next time!

#sonic the hedgehog #sonamy #amy rose #translation #long post #whew #this one was a doozy #but super interesting #thanks again latin for writing these long ass sonamy posts

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ms-indifferwnt · 4 years

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I’m Cold

“I'm cold"

"And?"

"Can't you give me your jacket or something?"

"Can't you accept my proposal and marry me already?"

In which Prince Donghyuck's parents are forcing him to get married and he decided to propose to the first girl he sees to shut his parents up

Genre: Prince!Lee Donghyuck x Maid!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Arranged Marriage (kinda), Slowburn

Warnings: Curse words, Suggestive (I'll add more if there are)

Notes: Chapter 5 of Im Cold. Sorry this one took longer, hope you guys enjoy

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

Prev / Chapter 5 / Next

"We'll take it" The Prince starts and Y/n looks at him in shock

"My Prince, er Donghyuck we don't have to," She starts and looks at herself in the mirror "This isn't necessary"

He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head while he readjusted his sitting position "I promised you we'd go shopping so we're going shopping" he eyes her and shakes his head "I don't like that," he looks to the sales lady "Get me a darker color of that exact dress"

"Donghyuck!"

He smiles and playfully copies her tone "Y/n" He crosses his arms "Let me spoil you, besides didn't I tell you to take advantage of me?" He asks

"You're the prince"

"Which is exactly why you have to do so, I would be very disappointed otherwise" He looks to the side and bowed his head at the sales lady with the different colored dress "Try this one" he hands it off to her and she furrows her eyebrows not taking the dress "Put this on willingly or I help you put it on?"

You blinked "You're kidding" you dared and stood your place

"Alright," He says moving to lead you inside the changing room "I'll help you change"

Only for you to yelp and grab the dress "I'll change, I'll change, stop it" walking inside the changing room, wearing the dress he has given her, it was a maroon colored wrap dress, with sleeves that reach her wrists an a skirt a couple of inches higher than her knees.

She walked out, showing the prince the latest dress he has picked out for her and received a shocked reaction from the prince. He knows that the wrap dress would look beautiful on her since he has seen her wear that dress and he has asked for a darker color but, Oh My God, she looked beautiful, the dress was absolutely perfect for her, he trailed his eyes down her body, and then nods

"We'll take it" He says to the sales lady and points at it "that is my favorite dress, wear it for tonight"

She raises an eyebrow in confusion "What's gonna happen tonight?"

He smiles and shakes his head "Nothing, now change back then lets go get jewelry"

"Your highness-" She started and stayed in place

"Go, Y/n" He ushers and smiles "then we can get ice cream"

"You're highness you're not allowed with too much sweets"

"Then I won't eat, you will, besides I love sweets"

Arriving back at the palace Y/n and the prince (mostly Y/n) was exhausted and excited to just lie in bed and be on her phone and just be by herself, today was too eventful for her liking

"Then I decided to bathe my pink turtle-" He replies when he notices the the female wasn't paying attention to him anymore and was proven right when she nodded

He rolls his eyes ,"Y/n" He calls and snaps his fingers infront of her face "Wakey-wakey?"

She blinks and bows in apology once the prince was able to hold her down to reality "Sorry, I was thinking"

He nods "its fine, I tired you out didn't I?" He chuckles "You should rest, you're gonna need it for the days to come. I'll wake you myself for dinner, so don't worry about it" He leads her to her room, assuring her as he holds her hand.

Once the Prince leaves her room she picks out a change of comfortable clothes and collapsed on the bed. She has been a maid for quite a while but today has left her exhausted, she feels absolutely drained, she was thankful for the rest she was about to have

She couldn't help but think about the Prince and the early encounters, was he always that protective? She shifts and hugs one pillow, remembering that moment when the Prince was furious that he almost did something he might regret, If she wasn't there, something must've happened

"Lets go get Ice-cream"

She blinks and smiles, He did nothing today but buy her cake, clothes, jewelry, and Ice cream. The Prince made sure she was comfortable and not left out, he would be a wonderful King, She sighs and closes her eyes, her thoughts and dreams being plagued by the beautiful sun kissed boy "And when the two weeks are over, we go our separate ways"

She doesn't know why, or what makes this feeling so strong but all of a sudden she hates herself

Donghyuck sat crossed legged in the tea room as his parents spoke to him about his day and his chosen benefactors, it was boring and he barely listened, his hands moved to play with his watch, a habit he has developed after Prince Chenle gave him a watch on his thirteenth birthday, speaking of that, Chenle's birthday is coming up, Donghyuck should really think of a present for the guy. Come to think of it, he doesn't know about Y/n's birthday, he should ask her, yeah he'll ask her

"Donghyuck" His mom brought him out of his day dream "are you even listening to me?"

He nods, he wasn't, "I was, and I can say yes, its possible" His dad raises his eyebrow and Donghyuck slyly and carefully waved his hand to ask for help from him who distracted his wife, sparing the prince from an earful

Donghyuck leans back, calling over his one of the stand ins there Yuta, who was also one of his friends "What were we talking about? I wasn't listening"

He smiles amused by the Prince "Being in love does that too you," He teases "I honestly thought I'll never see the day-"

"Shut up and tell me Hyung" Donghyuck mumbles

"The queen asked if Lady Y/n would join dinner and you replied with a quote 'yes, its possible'"

Donghyuck groaned as Yuta teases him. He can't believe he just agreed to something on her behalf by accident. There's nothing he could do now, right? I mean the choices were wake Y/n up and probably get the stink eye (she just seems like the person who gets cranky when you wake them. Every morning Y/n would wake up on her own, so its not impossible) or decline his mom's offer and get yelled at.

"I'll wake you myself for dinner, so don't worry about it"

The Prince nods at the memory, right He can wake her and have dinner. He stands and and smiles at his Parents "I'll go wake her" He informs and leaves the room, walking slowly to her, thinking of what to say, on how to wake her "Oh, and for dessert get something sweet" he smiles and bows

The King and the Queen stared at their sons leaving figure "he doesn't like sweets...?" The Queen starts

Yuta grins at the leaving figure before bowing "It isn't for him, your Grace"

Once he entered her room, he smiles at the sight, she changed into a loose tee and shorts, he had half a mind to tuck her in and let her sleep, but he was hungry, and he didn't want to get yelled at

"Y/n" he whispered and pets her hair, sitting down on the bed beside her "Wake up, sleepy head, lets eat dinner"

Y/n roused from her dreamless sleep by the sound of his voice, at first she thought it was just her imagination but his voice kept whispering and almost lulled her to sleep until she heard his voice tell her to eat. She slowly woke up, opening her eyes to be greeted by the handsome Prince running his fingers through her locks. She didn't mean it, leaning into his touch, neither noticed until she felt the warmth of the prince's hand on her cheek and she gasps, sitting up, making the prince stand up

"um," He says, his cheeks slightly pink as Y/n refuses to look at him "Its dinner time, lets go" He stands and clears his throat standing to look through her wardrobe to not look at her in the eye

He places his hand on his chest, willing his heart to stop thumping against his ribcage, he placed his other hand (the one he was holding her with) infront of him and he blinked grabbing one of the dresses there and turning to look at her who smiled softly at the prince, she looked unaffected, he didn't like it.

Y/n's heart was still beating at an irregular pace, she smiles softly once the prince looks at her "I'm sorry but why should I wear something so fancy?"

He looks at her and smiles, placing the dress on the bed "Because, my parents wanna eat dinner with you, would you rather wear that?"

He teases and points at her tee and she instinctively covered up using the blanket and he looked away "Um, sorry" He blushed again, God this room was getting stuffy "Change into this, or would you rather a different one?"

She shakes he head, as Hana walks in bowing at the Prince and Female on the bed, "I'll change into that, thankyou"

Hana takes the dress and smiles as she leads Y/n inside the bathroom, Hana was giggling as she helped her out of her current clothes "I hope I'm not stepping out of line, but you and the Prince have a cute chemistry"

Y/n couldn't help but raise her eyebrows "We were just speaking" She points out as Hana helps he into the dress, a red mid-thigh length, sleeves up until the elbow, the edge of the dress, the skirt part was adorned with a golden design, it sparkled with her movement, she would never admit it but the prince had a wonderful taste in clothes

"Well you were," Hana smiles and and adjusts the skirt so that it doesn't folded inward "But you and the Prince still have that, shy aura around, not many couples posses that now a days, My lady"

Maybe because we're not dating. Y/n hums and looks at the mirror "They don't?"

Hana nods "I assure you, MiLady, They Don't"

Arriving at the dining hall, with The Prince's and Y/n's armed linked together, you can tell from a far that she would be the perfect bride, The Prince was mischievous and everyone can tell, he had something up his sleeve, He helped her to her seat first, and usually the Prince would be teasing or joking around but for tonight, The King and The Queen watched as their son gave Y/n a reassuring smile and a gentle squeeze, a silent promise that she'll be alright

"Y/n" The Queen calls and Y/n bows along with the Prince "Please, no need to bow, you'll be family" She looks at The Prince at her words and He squeezes her hand again before helping her sit "Donghyuck is so proper with you, such a nice change of pace" She starts and laughs as The prince looked at her in shock

"I am Proper!" He raises his voice

"Donghyuck" Y/n calls and looks at him warningly, you do not raise your voice at the Queen, he looks at her and closes his mouth, sitting down with a small huff when she tugs on his sleeve

The King laughs at the display infront of him, "Donghyuck, you're fiance is right, don't raise your voice at your mother" He smiles and looks at her bowing his head "Its nice to finally meet you, Y/n"

She bows her head "Its my pleasure, Your Grace"

"Please, no need to be so formal" He smiles and assures "We're thankful to have you, Donghyuck needed someone who could control him" He teases

The Queen nods and smiles at Y/n "besides the point, we know you might be a little scared, but please don't be, We're happy to have you in our life, especially Donghyuck"

Donghyuck was focused on Y/n through out the conversation on the way she spoke and acted and how she would bow her head at every word, he looked at how she fidgeted whenever his parents spoke directly at her and he reaches out to push the hair behind her ear, making her look and he smiles "you're doing great" He praises, both implied as a don't worry and acting as his fiance

The King and Queen smiled at how affectionate their son was.

Once Dinner was served everybody started eating, Y/n joining the conversation from time to time until the King stood up "Donghyuck, I need to show you something, come with me"

Donghyuck looks at Y/n "you gonna-" he earned a small laugh from her, effectively cutting him off

"I'll be fine, besides, the King is more important then me"

Donghyuck shrugs and stands up "Well, not exactly"

Y/n blinks "What-?"

He winks teasingly and followed his father

Once they left the Queen stands, making Y/n to aswell "Lets go for a walk in the garden while they ready dessert?" She asks and Y/n nods

The queen leads her out into the hallway and into the garden, Y/n was amazed at how beautiful the flowers looked at night which made the Queen laugh "You've never seen the garden at night?"

"No, My Queen" She answers and stands, no longer kneeling to be face to face with the Iris Flowers "I was one of the maids in charge of keeping the rooms of the palace spotless, I'm usually cleaning at night"

The Queen nods and leads her at one of the garden chairs, letting her sit "Please, don't be so formal, We'll be family soon, its only fair to call me normally" She smiles at her teasingly "I wouldn't mind being called Mother by you either"

Y/n blushes, "I-" she starts out as the redness crawls up her neck making the Queen laugh more

She stops with a wave of her hand, while some maids place the tea and desserts on the table in front of them "Actually, Y/n, I would like to properly thank you", Y/n opens her mouth to speak but the Queen beat her to it "Thank you for returning Donghyuck's feelings and staying by his side, His Father and I have been worried, all we ever wanted is for him to be happy, and being with you does that to him" She smiles and reaches out to hold her hand "Thank you"

I’m Cold Taglist:

@staysstrays @tyongf-sunflower99 @jackyeonglli @rebel-lious-alien

If you wanna be added, leave a comment♡♡

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tanglednlove · 4 years

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Rapunzel's Pink Dress

I want to ramble about Rapunzel's dresses and why I love her final dress so much.

Rapunzel's pink dress was based off her wedding dress. Practically the exact same except for the color changes and different design on the bodice. At one point, Tangled was to end with the wedding of Rapunzel and Eugene. Luckily, the ending was changed, Rapunzel got this beautiful dress and the cute Tangled Ever After short was made.

Now to compare to her regular dress or tower dress.

The fitting of this dress seems a bit incommodious. The top and sleeves appear a bit tight and the overall length short. Rapunzel definitely has no trouble stretching, running, racing, dancing or chasing in it so my observation seems wrong. But, there are little hints that still make it plausible.

During Mother Knows Best, Mother Gothel maliciously sings 'sloppy, underdressed'....gettin' kinda chubby'. Gothel's way of keeping her 'precious flower' safe and sound while endlessly gaslighting poor Rapunzel.

When Gothel sings 'sloppy' the mirror reflects a full length view of Rapunzel. Then she pushes it down towards Rapunzel's exposed feet for the word 'underdressed.' Rapunzel reacts by bending down to cover her feet. Bare feet are definitely not appropriate for the outside world, according to Gothel.

Gothel's choice of words and mirror positioning, seem to indicate that Rapunzel is only allowed one dress until she completely outgrows it.

Honestly, it would not surprise me if Gothel had a one dress per next major growth spurt rule. Especially since she has never even changed her own dress. And, the dress Rapunzel makes for Pascal appears to be from the scraps leftover from making her current dress.

Gothel then goes on to insult Rapunzel's weight by singing 'getin' kinda chubby'. Rapunzel appears healthy with an appropriate weight. What actually seems to be happening is the dress is gettin' kinda too tight. Girls can stop growing in height around age 14. I do not think she has had it since age 14 but age 16 may be more likely. Also, breast development can end by age 18 but could continue until the early twenties. This dress appears a bit tight in that area. (Most likely not intended, but this is like a callback to Grimms' Rapunzel. In one version Rapunzel mentions her dress is tighter, but that was due to being pregnant.)

There are no patches on Rapunzel's dress. Which a few rips or tears may be expected if she has worn it for a while. In Mother Knows Best, Gothel sings Rapunzel is 'clumsy'. But, this is after she pulls the rug out from under her and makes her trip and fall down. I do not think Rapunzel is clumsy at all, hence no rips. Also, she can paint a lot without ever getting a speck of paint on her. In fact, to 'pull the rug out from under someone' means to abruptly withdraw support. There was never any support from Gothel to withdrawal but the saying still fits. Gothel would definitely take everything away from Rapuuzel for disobeying and she does just that in the end when she chains and gags her.

The whole point of Mother Knows Best was to destroy the slightest ray of sunshine in Rapunzel's confidence toward leaving the tower. A cruel yet effective way to do this is to pick out insecurities. Being sloppy, underdressed and kinda chubby would give Gothel great anxiety. Rapunzel is not shown to be vain at all. But, Gothel is trying desperately to keep Rapunzel in the tower and using any manipulating tactics necessary.

Gothel may have asked Rapunzel what colors and fabric she wanted to make this dress. And, Rapunzel most likely did all the sewing so I like to think it does represent some of her own preferences. Maybe the dress does not extend to the floor so she can easily perform her chores, hang from the ceiling, and see her feet so she does not trip on her hair. Maybe she wanted sleeves because the tower gets a little cool in the mornings. She definitely likes shades of purple, even her pink dress has lavender in the color scheme.

Quick side about the color of the tower dress. The dress and Rapunzel's golden hair represent the Corona flag- purple and yellow. But, the true color of the skirt is fandango which is a magenta-pink. Magenta falls in the purple shades as purplish-red. So, the overall color is in the purple category. While it does appear true plain purple in some light, it actually is the fandango color. The inner skirt part does appear to be true purple though.

Now I will gush about the pink dress! I do adore her tower dress, it is very beautiful. But, the pink dress completely wins me over. Best. Dress. Ever!

The one stark difference from the tower dress and her final pink dress is the corset placement. The bodice on her tower dress has the corset in the front. While the pink dress has the corset in the back. To me, this has always been an awesome metaphor. There are no sleeves on the pink dress either but the placement of the corset seems more meaningful.

As for the sleeves, I think it may just be a matter of aesthetic. Rapunzel's mother, the Queen, does wear sleeves. They look beautiful and seem to complete her look. Both of her beginning and ending dresses have sleeves. Her final dress also appears to be the same one in Tangled Ever After. Rapunzel is the princess and a sleeveless dress is a bit more youthful looking compared to her mother's. Also, the Queen has opaque sleeves while Rapunzel's were sheer. This could extend to the differences in their crowns. The Queen's crown is bigger and more grand. Rapunzel's crown has more jewels and is dainty. Although those three teardrop, or sundrop, diamonds are respectfully big and beautiful.

Back to corsets. Let me say, dresses with corsets are beautiful. They add a neat structure and design to a dress. Though Tangled is never given an exact time period, some of the concept art had 1800s written on them. So thereabouts, corset dresses were in vogue. And yes, the corset can be positioned front or back. Specifically for Rapunzel though, I find meaning on where it is placed.

Also, if she was only allowed one dress per major growth spurt, then a corset makes sense because of the adjustability.

When Rapunzel turns around at the end of Tangled and the audience can see the back of her dress, I had a moment. Rapunzel being 'tied up' and 'trapped' is now 'behind' her. She no longer has to live in fear and she can finally experience life outside the tower.

Just look at the wide and spaced ribbon on this corset. Looks comfortable and not pulled tight. In contrast, the strings on her tower dress were pulled tight to a bow at the top with big loops. Typically a tie with big loops means the strings were tied as comfortably tight as possible while there is extra string for some give. Which I still think is to accommodate her growing into a full adult body.

The back of her tower dress had a line of buttons. She was tied and buttoned into that dress. Just like the way Gothel had her locked and prisoned in the tower. No buttons on her pink dress. Just a comfortable corset and a beautiful pattern on the front. Also, appropriate structure all around.

That is it, that is why I love her pink dress so much! It represents her freedom💖 A full length shot of this dress is never shown in the movie. I like to think it either stopped at her ankles or just brushed the tops of her feet. Her wedding dress seemed to just barely brush the floor. Either way, she probably liked her feet showing or least nothing in their way.

End of rambling, yay...oh wait, then the Series happened.

When I first saw Rapunzel in her Series dress, I was disappointed. Being tied up is no longer 'in front' of her, she is free! Why put the bindings in the front again? Well, Tangled Before Ever After and the whole first season made it clear she still did not feel completely free. She was not ready to marry Eugene or become a full time princess. She needed adventure and she got it.

This dress also has sleeves which look like they were meant to be opaque. Several of the dresses she wears in the show have sleeves. I do think Rapunzel wearing sleeves as acting queen in the third season was appropriate. As mentioned, sleeves may be a queen aesthetic. Her coronation dress also had sleeves. I think her green island dress, with no sleeves and sitting just off shoulder was the best dress from the show. Especially since many concept art pieces for Tangled show her in a green dress.

Oh, the concept art of all the different green dresses. So beautiful yet neglected.

So, her standard Series dress gets a pass with one exception. In the very last scene of the entire show she still is wearing it! Maybe it was animation budget and they simply could not add in a new dress design but what a crime that was! She needed to be in her pink dress or either a similar design.

Anyway, I still love her pink dress the best because of what I think it represents. 💖💚

Bonus: This is her picture hanging in the Princess Fairytale Hall at Walt Disney World.

I would love to see her face character wearing this! It would even look lovely with the flower braid. This dress deserves so much more love, admiration and promotion. Honestly, her tower dress has been lumped in the princess rags or commoner look category before. So, why not put her in this beautiful, lovely pink princess dress? And look! She has her bare foot sticking out!💖

#rapunzel #disney tangled #tangled rapunzel #mother gothel #tangled ever after #princess rapunzel

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yungidreamer · 4 years

Text

Valentine’s Day

Summary: The boys decide to go all out for the holiday pampering and loving their girl. After a trip to an adult store they have everything they need to make it a holiday to remember for all of them.

Wordcount: 10.1k

Content warnings: A good dose of humor and domestic fluff to start with, discussions of sex toys, pampering, a little bit of dress up, oral sex, double penetration, restraints, use of a vibrator, edging, overstimulation, discussion of a safe word, super cuddly aftercare.

Valentine's weekend came quickly for them all. The boys had given her strict instructions that they were making plans for it and they would get everything for the day. If she wanted, she could get them little gifts, but the day was theirs. During the week leading up, Mingi and Yunho went on a special shopping trip together to a sex shop. Both boys were nervous and didn’t entirely know what to expect when they went in. They wanted to get something special for the day, for their girl and, especially with the short time frame they were working with, this was their best option.

A quick internet search had provided them with a few options. They settled on one that seemed to have the biggest selection, heading there one day after classes. Contrary to their fears, they found the store to be big, bright and open, looking much more like your average big box store than they would have guessed. They kept the safer things like lingerie closer to the front and in the large windows to the front of the store and slowly added things that were more obviously adult the further they went to the back of the store. Honestly it might have been easier if the store had been smaller. Fewer things to choose from means fewer choices that had to be made. But here they were.

“What do you want to look for first,” Yunho asked Mingi as they stood together somewhere near the middle of the store.

“Maybe we can start with something to wear,” Mingi suggested, seeing a section of costumes and some racks of things for men not far away. Yunho nodded, agreeing that it was a place to start at least. They wandered around a little, flipping through the things on the shelf as they passed.

“What about this?” Mingi pulled a small thong off rack and held it up. Yunho couldn’t help but smile at what he had picked out. It was adorable and perfect for the occasion. The front was designed to mimic a black tie suit, topped with a small black silk bow tie and had a small row of tiny black buttons going down the front underneath it.

“I love it, it's perfect for you,” Yunho agreed, tucking it in their little handheld basket. They walked down another aisle before something caught his eye. Up on a little mannequin he spotted something he could only describe as a leather harness. It looped around the waist and had a couple of straps that went around the thighs, all connected with a series of straps, buckles, and rings.

“What about that?” Yunho pointed at it to bring Mingi’s attention to it.

“Ooooo,” Mingi breathed, nodding enthusiastically. “That would be good on you. Do… do you think they have any that would look good on our girl?”

“Let’s see if we can find that one in a size I can wear first,” Yunho chuckled. They did, it was thankfully adjustable and came in a number of sizes. They tucked the one they thought seemed like the best guess in size before combing through that section a little more for their girl. Before long they found a harness they liked for her. It was a little simpler, but lighter and feminine almost. It had only two straps around the thighs and four thinner ones that connected the waist to the thighs. It looked like a leather garter belt with little bows on the vertical straps which hooked to the loops in the thigh straps with little lobster clips. They also located a matching harness for her chest with a couple of medium straps that went around her ribs then a mess of thinner ones that went up to a choker like one, curving around the outside of her breasts and up between them. They had had to improvise slightly in size, not having checked her clothing size before they left, but they did manage to get help from a store assistant who let them test their hands on a couple of mannequins, roughly sussing out her size from memory. That little experience left the female shop assistant in giggles and Yunho blushing bright red.

Having helped them with that, and having shown them to the dressing room to try things on, she went back to her job, still smiling and snickering as she did. Yunho’s face felt like it was on fire as he stepped into his dressing room to try on the harness. It will all be worth it, he told himself. Besides, she definitely found the fact I was embarrassed much funnier than anything else. He took a deep breath and started fiddling with straps to make sure the harness would fit. When it was all attached over his boxers, Yunho poked his head out and whispered Mingi’s name to get him to take a peek and see what he thought. Mingi poked his head out, then waddled quickly into the stall where Yunho had changed.

“It looks good,” Mingi said, not able to keep himself from staring at Yunho’s thighs.

“Did… did you try yours on too?” Yunho asked, noting that Mingi currently didn’t have his pants on.

“Oh yeah, what do you think?” As he asked, Mingi lifted up his long baggy shirt to show the formal thong he had put on over his boxer briefs. Yunho watched as he turned in a little circle for him.

“I think I can’t wait to see you wear that without the extra layer,” Yunho joked, giving Mingi’s bum a little squeeze.

“I like it, too,” Mingi grinned widely and gave a laugh.

“One person to a room,” a familiar voice said from the hallway, humor still dancing in her tone.

“Sorry,” the boys apologized in sync and Mingi slipped back to his dressing room to change back into his pants. With everything tried on, they had a few more things they wanted to get for the big weekend. Since his dignity was already in tatters with her, Yunho decided that the sales assistant who had assisted them before was probably the best choice to help. Color still high on his cheeks, Yunho found her righting a display not far away and tapped on her shoulder.

“Oh hey, did you need help with something else?” She said when she looked up to see him.

“Would you be okay helping us with some… toys,” he ended with a whisper, not wanting someone else to overhear, feeling shy enough already.

“I suppose it may depend on what help you want,” she laughed, setting down the last thing she had in her hand. “But I can probably help you out.”

“Thank you,” Yunho said, gripping the basket tighter in his hands.

“Come this way,” she told them, heading over towards a section of the store off to the opposite side which had shelves of boxes and a couple display cases. “Okay, what were you looking for.”

“Umm, a vibrator, I think,” Yunho cleared his throat, looking around at all the stuff around them, feeling a little lost in the selection.

“Great, is that for you or Miss Mannequin?” As she asked, the corner of her lip twitched.

“Is there a difference?” Yunho asked.

“Well there can be,” she began carefully. “Let’s start with how you want to use it.”

“Okay,” Yunho nodded, feeling Mingi draw up by his side.

“Were you wanting something for your girlfriend as well?” She directed the question to Mingi who only nodded in response. “Okay well, let’s start with looking at the sort of options you have.” Taking a moment, she pulled a couple of things out of the case in front of her as well as a couple of boxes off a nearby shelf. “So, you have basically ones that go in her, ones you use on her, or ones that sort of attach to you to help you please her. For example, wand and bullet vibes are pretty popular, you use them on the outside and she could use the bullet one on you as well.” She pushed forward something very large that looked like a small bat as well as something tiny that looked like a rounded chapstick tube but in silver. “If you want something that would go in her, or you too,” she added as an afterthought. “You might consider a rabbit vibe, or another sort of vibrating dildo, or a vibrating plug like this.” She pointed to a couple of big boxes and then a silicone something that looked like it belonged in the neck of a wine bottle, like a cork with a pull attached. “And there are also these that go on your fingers, or you, or your tongue, for just that little bit of extra oomph.”

“That’s… a lot of stuff,” Mingi commented, looking at everything she had laid out.

“I think… not something that goes inside,” Yunho decided, scooting those off to the side. “And maybe not something that I put on,” he added. “Which one do most people think feel the best?”

“Well if you are going to use it while you are with her,” she said meaningfully while trying to be tactful. “Something that specifically stimulates her clitoris might be what you are looking for.” She turned around and pulled a couple of things out of displays that had been behind her. “These are really popular and kind of feel like when you go down on her. They are really good but also small enough for one of you to hold between you while you are together.”

Mingi and Yunho looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

“Did you want to see what it feels like?” She offered. Both boys nodded, each taking one and turning it over in their hands to find the switch and test it out. The first had a little round indentation where the vibrations were concentrated, giving an odd pulsing sort of vibration. The second didn’t have as dramatic a cup, was covered in soft silicon, and had various settings that changed not only the pattern of the vibrations, but also the location of them in the toy.

“This one,” Yunho said and Mingi nodded. “I like this one, I think.”

“Great,” she nodded and started clearing off the top of the display case since they had made their choice. Yunho waited, looking at what was inside while he waited. The case was mostly filled with smaller things that were unboxed, things that would be easy to pocket without paying for. There were stainless steel piercings, little silver balls, and large assorted rings made from various materials.

“Did you want to look at the cock rings, too?” She asked, noting the direction of his attention.

“Maybe,” Yunho let out a nervous chuckle. “What do they do? How do they work?”

“Well they help you get harder, maybe a little bigger, and can make it feel better,” She explained, pulling out a couple of different kinds. “Not everyone likes them and they won’t make drastic changes for you, but it might be something fun to try, if you want to. You just slide them on with lots of lube before you get hard and it sort of helps your body do it’s thing.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll take one,” Yunho decided.

“Okay, do you want a multi pack or do you have some idea of your size,” she asked.

“Well I know… me, but how do I know what size that is?” He asked, shifting uncomfortably.

“I have an idea,” she held up her finger and walked a couple of display cases away and pulled out a selection of a few reasonably sized dildos. “Which one is closest to you when you’re hard?” Yunho pointed at the largest one on the table and looked to Mingi, who nodded in agreement. “Okay, just pointing out, it won’t work as well if you aren’t honest, so no judgement.” Both of the boys pointed at the largest and it was her turn to blush slightly and blink. She paused and her eyes flicked down to the fly of his jeans for a split second. “Large. Got it. What about you?” She asked, trying to gather herself and look at Mingi. He pointed at one size down and she blinked a couple of times. “Also a large, okay.” She reached into the case and pulled out some black silicon rings. “I recommend these to start with. They are more forgiving and easier to get on than some others. Here is a little pamphlet to go with them, as well.” She put them and the pamphlet into a small ziplock.

“Thanks,” Yunho nodded, taking the bag and putting it in their basket.

“And here are the vibrators,” she said as she placed two boxes on the counter in front of them.

“Oh we just need the one,” Yunho said, picking up a box and putting it in the basket.

“I thought you both wanted to have one to use,” she gave a self effacing laugh.

“Yeah,” Mingi agreed. “That’s right.”

“Well, umm, you should probably get your own,” she said, pushing the other box to him gently. “It really isn’t the best idea to share toys between different partners.”

“Oh, we won’t,” Mingi said understandingly. “We share a girlfriend.” With that reply they gave her another thanks, leaving her there blinking quickly as her mind tried to process that rather unexpected remark. They ended up going slightly overboard with the fun stuff, figuring anything they didn’t use now, they would eventually. They bought massage oils, a kit called Let’s Play Together that included things meant for sensation play (they agreed they could figure all that out later), and some flavored oils and dust that seemed interesting. Finally satisfied, they headed to the register and paid for their haul.

Unfortunately, the shopping bag they brought home was not terribly discrete, bearing the logo and name of the store on it, which meant it was very apparent where they had been shopping when they arrived home to find their girl in the living room with Hong Joong and Seonghwa. They were catching up, after having worked on a bit of homework together. Her eyes landed on the bag and she let out a loud cackle.

“I am so getting laid this weekend,” she hooted. Hong Joong doubled over with laughter and Seonghwa grimaced slightly as he snickered into his hand.

“Like you weren’t totally going to this weekend anyway,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes and started to pack up the last of his things.

“Yeah, but now I know I’m getting really good laid,” she pointed out with a grin.

“Something I didn’t need to know,” Hong Joong noted. “But I am happy for you.”

“Ugh, I need to get a gift for Sangie,” Seonghwa sighed.

“I thought you already got him something,” Hong Joong blinked at his roommate.

“I got him some chocolates on actual Valentine’s Day,” Seonghwa allowed. “But we have a date on Saturday. I need to give him something then.”

“Sure, right,” Hong Joong nodded. “Thank you for reminding me why I am not that upset to be single.”

After a little small talk, Hong Joong and Seonghwa headed back to their dorm, leaving the trio alone at home. She gave each of the boys a slightly belated proper welcome home before Yunho took the bag back to his room for later.

“No peeking,” Mingi told her as he pulled her into his lap for a moment of cuddles. “Promise you won’t ruin the surprise.”

“I promise,” she agreed, giving him a sweet sustained kiss. “I want the surprise too.”

“You’re going to love it,” Mingi grinned at her, holding her close to him.

“Babe, I would love it even if we all just sat in the same room and read,” she assured him. “And I know that you two have something better than that planned for us.”

On Saturday morning the boys woke up early, well at least earlier than normal, to start Valentine’s Day for their girl. They had the whole day planned, and it started with breakfast. Mingi had set an alarm for them, putting his phone under his pillow, in the hopes that they could get up without bothering her. Unfortunately, she was by far the lightest sleeper of all of them. It was in fact her that heard the muffled alarm, fishing Mingi’s phone out from under his pillow and turning off the alarm. She turned on her side to face him, touched and moved by the effort at least. She roused him with gentle kisses on his forehead and over his nose and cheeks. Half awake, Mingi pulled her up against him, snuggling his face into the warm mounds of her breasts.

“Mingi, baby, your alarm went off,” she told him gently as she stroked the side of his face.

“Alarm?” He said groggily. “What alarm?”

“The one you set, honey,” she chuckled, letting her head fall back into the pillows. “Don’t ask me what it’s for, you didn’t even tell me you were setting it.”

“Valentine’s Day,” Mingi suddenly realized, pulling himself up and out of her arms. “Awwww, you were supposed to sleep in while we got breakfast ready.”

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, putting a hand on his bare arm. “You can still do whatever you had planned.”

She shifted, starting to pull herself out of the covers when Mingi stopped her. “No no, you stay in bed this morning.”

“Can I go pee if I promise to come back and lounge back in bed like a princess?” She asked patiently, hands clasped in her lap.

“Yes,” Mingi agreed, slightly chagrined. She got out of the bed, giving Mingi a quick kiss on the lips as she passed, heading to the bathroom to pee and wash her face as she did every morning. While she was busy in the bathroom, Mingi got Yunho up as well and they headed eagerly into the kitchen to make breakfast. They were going to make her favorite, french toast with fresh strawberries and real maple syrup. Mingi made her favorite tea, brewing it in their teapot, and got out three matching mugs for them. Both of them worked on preparing a special tray for her, putting her food, an empty mug, her silverware in a nicely folded napkin, and a little vase with a peach rosebud on it.

Mingi carefully carried her tray down the hall with Yunho behind him managing their plates, two mugs, and the teapot very well thanks to his large hands. They found her lounging in the middle of the bed, hair twisted up in a bun with her silver comb, watching something on YouTube as she waited patiently for them, dressed only in one of Mingi’s old t-shirts.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Mingi declared, putting the tray on her lap. Yunho came around the other side, putting their own plates on the bed before filling her mug with hot tea now that there wasn’t a risk of it splashing out.

“Oh… wow…” she breathed looking at the breakfast. “You guys are such sweethearts. This looks so good. I just love it.”

“This is just the start of the day,” Yunho promised with a grin.

“I can’t wait,” she leaned forward to give each of them a kiss before happily digging into the food they had so lovingly made for her. Happily nomming on every bite, she made sure to let them see how pleased she was by everything they were doing for her. They often did little things for her, happily taking care of things around the house, running errands, and of course, reaching anything too high for her. But this was different. It was the first time they had really planned a big thing, a grand gesture for her, and she loved it.

Breakfast done, the boys cleared up the bed and cleaned up the dishes in the kitchen before rejoining her in the bed for a romantic movie. While they watched, Yunho redid her hair, braiding it before twisting it up with the comb, making it more secure for what they had in store next.

When the movie was done, Yunho snuck into the bathroom while Mingi distracted her in the living room for a few minutes. When he had everything ready, he poked his head back out and gave Mingi the go-ahead to get her ready and bring her in. Mingi stripped his old shirt off her before guiding her into the bathroom with her eyes covered. Even before he let her see anything, the smell of the bath tickled and tempted her nose, tantalizing her. Rose, jasmine, and magnolia mingled in the steam warmed air of the bathroom. The air was still, only the drip of the tub faucet and the sound of someone that must have been Yunho shifting slightly as he stood on the bath mat.

Mingi let his hand drop, allowing her to open her eyes. She was immediately struck dumb by the sight of what they had transformed the bathroom into. It was usually a really lovely space, mostly glistening white tiles and gold colored taps and towel racks. A perfect balance of classic and modern. Serviceable, comfortable, cozy.

But now, the room before her was a cave of romantic comfort. They had blocked out the light from the window with a towel, instead lighting the room with a dozen candles. A few were small tea lights, mostly placed where something bigger wouldn’t have fit, but most were pink and white pillar candles put in clear glass cylinders to protect them from drafts and to protect the things around them from their flickering flames. Around the edge of the tub and even on the side of the counter closest to it, flowers were strewn over every surface. Little bouquets were gathered in a few vases scattered among the loose flowers. The tub was filled with milky looking water, scented like a fragrant garden, with buds and petals floating on the surface.

“Oh boys, this must have been so much work.” Just looking at it was choking her up slightly. “Thank you.”

“Come get in, princess,” Yunho crooked his finger at her and helped her step into the warm water. The water was the perfect temperature, surrounding her with warmth and the rising scented steam made it feel like she was enveloped in a whole different world inside that tub. Yunho cupped the water up over her shoulders and neck, making sure the soothing water covered her from the neck down.

While Yunho continued to dribble the water on her, Mingi came to sit beside him, taking her hand out of the water and starting to gently massage the muscles and tendons in her hands. Honestly, it had never occurred to her that it would feel quite so nice to have that done. She sat in the flickering orange light of the candles, letting the boys dote on her, but it felt a little strange to be the only one getting attention.

“Would you mind getting in with me?” She asked, turning to face them.

“But we’re pampering you today,” Yunho replied, kissing her nose.

“You can still pamper me from inside the tub,” she smiled at them running her hands up their arms.

“If that’s what you want,” Yunho agreed. Both boys stripped off the last of what they had been wearing and slipped into the water after carefully lowering its level first to keep it from overflowing.

“Come sit in my lap, I’ll rub your shoulders,” Mingi said, reaching for her. She nodded, scooting over so she was sitting on his crossed legs facing Yunho opposite him. Mingi’s hands went to her shoulders gently rubbing at the muscles in her neck. Yunho’s hands reached for her feet under the water, gently massaging them in the milky depths. She let out a satisfied moan and let her hands stroke the muscular flesh of Mingi’s thighs.

“Feel good?” Mingi asked, kissing the side of her head.

“Oh yeah,” she said, voice laden with relaxed pleasure. “So good.”

“Anything for our princess today,” Yunho switched to massaging her other foot, lifting it out of the water to give it a little kiss.

“If I’m a princess today, what does that make you two?” She mused, leaning back against Mingi’s chest.

“Slave boys?” Mingi offered teasingly.

“Mmm, nah,” she wrinkled her nose at the idea.

“What about just loyal servants?” Yunho tested.

“Still no,” she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Knights at your service?” Mingi tried after another moment’s thought.

“Oooo, yes, I like that,” she gave a low chuckle and ran her toes over Yunho’s lower stomach as she did.

“Oh, do you?” Yunho teased. “I am at my lady’s service, always.” He sat up and leaned forward in the water, scooting until he loomed over her. Dipping his head down, he kissed the side of her jaw as one hand went to her breast under the water. “I commit my life to her pleasure.” Lifting her breast above the waterline, he sucked the nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip like it was the tastiest candy. She let out a sigh, letting her head fall back on Mingi’s shoulder as her fingers tangled in Yunho’s hair. Mingi, tilted her head to the side and kissed the shell of her ear.

“I want to touch you,” she entreated, letting the hand Yunho’s hair trail down his neck and chest.

“Today is about your pleasure,” Yunho caught her fingers and laced his fingers with hers.

“And it would please me to make you cum, here, like this, with my hand,” she explained. “Then I want to do the same to our Mingi.” She ran her fingertips up the outside of Mingi’s thigh underneath her. “Besides, maybe if you cum now, you’ll last longer when we do stuff later.”

“Would it make you happy to touch me,” Yunho teased.

“Very happy,” she nodded.

“Well if it would make you happy,” he agreed.

“One rule though,” she added. “You can’t touch me while I am touching you, but the other person can.”

“If you insist,” Yunho chuckled. “But I want a kiss first.”

“Deal,” she agreed, leaning forward to meet his lips. Yunho’s big hands came up to cradle her face as he moved his lips against hers. He nibbled and licked at her lower lip until she opened her mouth and let his tongue in to explore her mouth. His tongue teased hers, tangling with it like a dancing partner. With his thumbs, he caressed her cheekbones and pulled her face to just the right angle for him. By the time he let her go, her heart was fluttering and her stomach felt like it was full of butterflies.

“Fuck, Yunho,” She shivered. “You know how to drive me crazy. Now it’s my turn. Put your hands on the edge of the tub.”

Yunho leaned back and extended his legs so that she and Mingi could straddle them under the water, the easiest position that allowed her access to him, and put his hands on the curve of the edge of the porcelain tub on either side. He cast her a challenging look and gave a nod to Mingi who then slid his hands over her hips as he pressed against her from behind. She smiled and teasingly wiggled her butt against the boy behind her.

Under the water, her hands wandered down over the planes of his muscular stomach, enjoying the soft skin that stretched over his lean muscles. She teased around his half hard erection, stroking the inside of his thighs and the balls hanging beneath it. Yunho let out a shaking breath and gave her a mix of please have mercy and please don’t stop. When her hand gripped his erection, his head fell back and he groaned.

As her hand slowly worked him, Mingi teased her from behind. His hands played over her waist and up along her ribs and up to her breasts. As he let his hands wander, his lips did the same over her neck and shoulders. Yunho could tell whenever Mingi did something especially distracting, as her hand would stutter or move more quickly that it had a second before. Yunho kept his eyes closed, his head leaning against the side of the counter behind him, listening to the sound the other two made as she touched him. He heard the catch of her breath and the watery swish as Mingi’s hands moved over her, above and below the water. He cracked open his eyes when she made a surprised little ahh sound, half breath, half gasp. Yunho could see Mingi’s mouth working along the side of her neck, a couple of inches below her ear. The way her skin moved when Mingi moved his head slightly told him that he was either sucking quite hard or had his teeth around her flesh. Either way, she was enjoying it plenty, tilting her head to give Mingi better access to her neck.

Yunho felt his pleasure rising slowly as her fingers focused on stroking his sensitive head. Mingi took note of Yunho’s increased breathing as well as that the other boy was now watching him touch her as she touched him and decided to make his actions more of a show. He lifted her breast higher, letting her pert nipples show through the space between his fingers as he messaged the soft globes with his large hands. He ran the tip of his tongue along the whole side of her neck while keeping eye contact with Yunho who groaned at the sight. Where Mingi’s mouth had been was an angry sort of red, with the indentation of his teeth in a small circle around it. Yunho could even make out the front tooth that was just a little longer than the other in how it marked her skin.

As Yunho came close to his orgasm, evident by the way his body involuntarily twitched as she touched him, Mingi turned her face for a kiss. She groaned into his mouth and Yunho had to stop himself from reaching out to guide her hand to move on him just a little harder, a little faster.

“Harder, please,” he finally gritted out as he watched them through hooded, half closed eyes.

“Like this?” She asked, tightening her grip slightly and twisting her hand as she moved on his length.

“Yes,” he confirmed, adding, “and faster.”

“Anything,” she agreed happily. Within a few more strokes, Yunho came under her touch, gripping the tub so tightly that his knuckles turned white. She released him, letting him recover without taking him into over stimulation. Mingi ran light kisses along the back of her neck, smelling her skin and her hair as he waited, anticipating his turn under her touch.

Soon enough, Yunho was pulling her into his lap and letting Mingi stretch out as he had been. Mingi sighed at the feeling of her grasping his member. He couldn’t see the way she had touched Yunho under the milky surface of the water, but her motions and his imagination had done at least as well at arousing him as the actual sight would have.

“Both hands on him love,” Yunho instructed as his own fingers went to tease the inside of her thighs. “Make him cum for us. He’s been so good today, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, I’m so lucky he loves me,” She said softly as she played with him.

Yunho played with her body below the water as her hands drove Mingi wild. He was careful to ride the line to keep his touch teasing more than pleasing. They had plans for her and this release, this respite was going to make it much easier to spend the rest of the afternoon driving her mad with pleasure. Yunho let out a low chuckle and nuzzled into the hair behind her ear. She turned to look at him with a questioning sort of expression. Yunho gave her a secretive smile, mischief sparkling in his eyes. She didn’t ask, just quirked an eyebrow at him and turned back to Mingi who was twitching and moaning.

Yunho went to the other side of her neck from the one Mingi had marked and started giving it light and teasing kisses as Mingi got nearer to his orgasm. It wouldn’t take long for him to come, having been so worked up from the start and given her more vigorous stimulation of him. He waited patiently for the moment when he could feel Mingi’s legs buck beneath them before marking her neck, hearing her tense, pleasurable intake of breath. Her gasp matched Mingi’s low groan, mixing to make the sweetest of sounds for Yunho’s ears.

After letting them take a moment to recover, Yunho stepped out of the bath and dried off. Mingi followed soon after, insisting that she wait so they could help her and dry her off and get her ready for the rest of the afternoon. They rubbed her dry with a fluffy towel before getting the black lacy blindfold and her harness so they could get all of them dressed up before she got to see them. Mingi worked on getting the top on her, putting the straps around her rib cage first before working on the collar strap and adjusting the ones that connected the two over her chest and around her breasts.

“Does it feel okay? Can you move alright?” Mingi asked, letting her test and give him a nod, before feeding the ends through the loops to hold them down. On her lower half Yunho was working on attaching the straps around her waist and thighs, having her flex and lift her legs to make sure they wouldn’t restrict her. He clipped the garter belt like straps to the rings on her thighs at the front and the back.

With her properly dressed, Mingi honeymoon carried her to bed, setting her down and scooting her into the middle of the bed with the instructions not to move or take off the blindfold until they gave her the okay. She responded with a salute and a smile she tried to suppress for effect. The boys went back into the bathroom and got dressed. Mingi helped Yunho get all the straps attached and adjusted, not missing the chance to give his butt a nice squeeze as he did.

“You look really fucking hot,” he told Yunho as he pulled him against him and gave him a challenging sort of look until Yunho broke and gave him a giggling kiss.

“You, too,” Yunho responded. “Now let’s go play with our girl.” Mingi nodded excitedly, getting the bag of loot from the other day from where they had stowed it in the closet. They pulled everything out and spread it over the foot of the bed for easy access, then gave her the okay to take off her blindfold. She looked at Yunho first and her eyes eloquently expressed her surprise and approval of his choice. When her eyes moved over to Mingi she couldn’t hold back the joy filled laugh and grin that came out of her. The little faux tux front and black tie was a perfect mix of saucy and cute. It brought an idea to her head that she filed away for just a little later. Her eyes finally took in all the toys and sex-cessories they had gotten at the store and she let out an approving, oh my.

“Where should we start?” Yunho asked, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Mingi.

“Can I tie her hands to the head of the bed?” Mingi suggested.

“Good idea,” Yunho nodded, passing him the white satin ties that had come in the Let’s Play Together box. She happily settled back into the bed, finding a comfortable position she would be fine staying in for the next little while. Mingi took her hand, tying it first around her wrist and then making a bow around one of the bars of the headboard. He did the same on the other side before poking her in the ribs lightly to tickle her and test the bonds with a giggle. She jerked in response, but the binds held.

“Hey,” she protested.

“Sorry, love,” He gave her an apologetic kiss. “I’ll be good; I just wanted to check.”

“I want to try the body dust,” Yunho decided, picking up the little tub and matching feather duster.

“I’ll take the edible oil,” Mingi said as he looked through the selection of flavors. “Maybe our girl should taste like raspberry? Or mango?”

“Why not try both?” Yunho chuckled as he moved to kneel beside her upper body. He opened the little canister and dipped the tip of the feathers in the powder inside. Once a little had been gathered there, he brushed them teasingly over her breasts. The tickle of the feathers over her nipples raised goosebumps over her skin and had her legs moving restlessly as she shifted under the touch.

“Does that feel good?” Yunho asked, running his fingers over the sheer layer of pale powder it left behind.

“Yeah,” she nodded, letting her head fall back again.

“Let’s see how it tastes,” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and leaned down to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the nub and the soft skin that surrounded it. “Mmmm, strawberries.” He hummed against her. “You want to try it?” The question was directed to the other boy.

“I’m going to try this,” Mingi shook his head as he pulled out the dropper from one of the oils and let two drops land on her stomach and the crease of her thigh. He stretched out beside her and used a finger to spread the light oil over her skin. Blowing a breath over it made a sudden warmth bloom where the oil was.

“Oooohhh,” she shivered, feeling his warm hand hold her leg down before brushing his lips over it. Pulling back, he licked his lips, an expression of wonder coming over his face.

“That tastes so good,” Mingi murmured, going back for more. She whimpered as they used her as a tasting board, a flavor carrier, finding every tender spot and every sensitive nerve ending.

“Trade?” Yunho suggested, offering the canister and feather duster, exchanging it for the raspberry oil. He shifted down to her lower body as Mingi moved upwards. They traded objects and positions but continued the same pleasureable torture. Her skin tingled with the sensations they were sending through her. It was the sweetest torture she could imagine. She pulled at the restraints, wanting to touch them, to hold and guide their heads. With a grimace and a sigh she closed her eyes, trying to relax and not pull at the restraints.

“You okay, love?” Mingi asked, holding her around the ribs lightly.

“Yeah,” she assured him. “Just trying to remember not to pull so much.”

“Do you want me to let you out?” He offered.

“No, no,” she quickly shook her head. “I want it, I’ll be good.”

“You’re always good,” Mingi chuckled, kissing her cheek.

“I try,” she puckered her lips, inviting him to kiss her. He took the invitation and lowered his face to hers, initiating a kiss that slowly built from a soft brush of lips to a hungry battle of tongues. Mingi eventually pulled away, returning to playing with the dust and the feathers by making a path for him to kiss and taste his way across her body.

Yunho busied himself drawing a winding trail up and down her legs. He was enjoying running raspberry flavored kisses over a number of her sensitive and often overlooked erogenous zones like the arch of her foot, the back of her knee, and her inner thigh. The slight warmth and the mouthwatering flavor combined to make for a fun meandering journey over her body. Her reactions, the breathy moans, the twitches and jerks when they found her most sensitive spots, made it all the more fun.

“So wet already, love,” he teased, bringing a little of her moisture to his lips. “Are you ready for more?”

“Yes,” she replied quickly and with a firmness that laid bare her building desperation for them. He brought his mouth to her, licking up the slick line of her aroused body, teasing her gently. Watching her up the line of her body, he let his tongue slip inside her. She shivered at the intrusion, tugging at her binds. Yunho smirked, loving how reactive she was to their touch. He locked his lips around her clit, sucking and swiping his tongue over it. She moaned, her thighs squeezing around his head until he used his hands to spread them wide again pressing them to the bed.

“I wonder,” he said, briefly taking his mouth off her. He slid two fingers under the straps around her thighs, using the leather to hold her legs to the bed. “I knew this would be useful as well as just plain hot.” With a chuckle, he dove back into eating her, determined to make her cum on his mouth while she lay pinned to the bed and Mingi continued his licking exploration of every inch of her body.

Mingi half watched as Yunho consumed her, complementing his movements to the intensity of his attentions. As her arousal drew near its peak, Mingi ran his fingers over her arms and brought his lips to hers, wanting to taste her cries as she came against the mouth of the other boy. She squirmed against the binds straining to reach and touch them, desperate to get closer. As the feeling washed over her.

“Mingi, can you let her wrists go? I think we’re going to want her to be able to move around a bit...for now at least.” His voice ended with playful promise that the satin would come back. Mingi nodded and quickly pulled the satin bows undone, but left the ties around her wrists. She relaxed with a sigh, letting her arms move to rest below her breasts. Mingi stretched out beside her, rubbing slow circles over her stomach as he looked down at her.

Though he could have continued this explorations for hours, Yunho could feel his own impatience rising. He wanted to use the cock ring and waiting too long might mean he wouldn’t be able to today. He reached for the long thin tube that had been included in the sensation set. It was a warming gel that was supposed to enhance her pleasure by warming and sensitizing her clit. He ran his fingers over the lips at the apex of her thighs, spreading them and testing her residual slickness.

“You ready for more, love?” Yunho asked, running his hands up and down her thighs in a soothing motion.

“Yeah,” she sighed, though not making the effort to open her eyes as she replied.

“Let’s try this out,” he opened the tube and took a small amount of the gel and rubbed it against her clit. It let off a slightly cinnamon like scent as he spread it over the small nub.

“Oh,” she moaned, eyes widening slightly.

“How does that feel?” Yunho asked, moving his fingers in slow, small circles.

“Good,” her voice was tight. “Warm and a little odd, but good.” Yunho sat up, letting the gel do its work as he found one of the cock rings and the lube among the toys, sliding it on himself. He handed the other to Mingi before stretching out beside her and stroking himself a little.

“Do you think you can take us both again?” He asked, guiding her hand to him, asking her to help him reach full hardness. She nodded, turning on her side to face him more fully. “Here.” He rolled her on him, her legs straddling his hips. Yunho adjusted himself, half sitting, half laying under her and tied her wrist to the headboard again. She rolled her hips over his length, looking for friction. Behind her, Mingi grabbed her hips, tucking the curve of her backside in against him.

“You ready for me?” Mingi asked, fondling her along the lines of her harness around her waist and legs.

“Yes,” she teased him by rubbing herself back against his erection. “I want you in me.”

“Okay, baby, relax for me,” he squeezed her ass gently before picking up the lube to slick her up and work her open for him. Yunho slid his head between her lips, gathering her moisture on him and preparing to enter her. She moaned as he brushed her sensitive clit, warmed and begging for stimulation.

“Mingi can you pass me the toy for our girl?” Yunho asked, deciding here was a good place to try it out and help her relax for both of them. Mingi passed him the vibrator, equally curious to see her reaction to it. Yunho spread some lube across the silicon of the toy and turned it on it’s lowest setting. He pressed it against her lightly and she jerked back slightly.

“Does that feel good?” Mingi asked from behind as he felt her move.

“Yes,” she shivered as Yunho pressed it against her again. Mingi slid a finger in her and Yunho dipped the tip of his erection in her as the vibrations teased her. It was an overwhelming mix of sensations rippling through her body. She leaned forward and gripped the headboard tighter with her fingers. Yunho continued to test, placing the toy in different places without placing firmly against her clit.

Soon Mingi was slipping himself inside her tight hole, having prepared her for the invasion with the help of the pleasurable distraction provided by Yunho. When he was fully seated, Yunho glided into her from beneath, pulling her down on him. Her body was tight around him as he moved deeper inside her. He felt Mingi’s knees quiver at the sensation of him brushing against him from the inside. When he was finally as deep as he could go, he changed the setting on the vibrator to a more targeted stimulation, teasing her with light pulses near, but not on her clit.

She held herself still as they moved inside her, concentrating on holding herself up. Her whole body felt tender and alive after the lengthy attention she had received from their playful tasting of her and the oils and the dust. Everything ached and she felt stretched tight around them as the vibrations of the toy almost gave her the rush of pleasure she wanted so much. With every move her skin rushed with waves of feeling hot and cold or, somehow, both at the same time. The muscles of her thighs burned as they involuntarily squeezed against Yunho’s hips as he thrust into her.

Yunho pressed the toy firmly against her clit, letting the waves pulse into her body. He felt her body quiver around him in reaction, her inner muscles teasing the build of her orgasm. Pulling it away, he watched as her face twisted at the denial of sensation and her body tensed. The rise of her orgasm faded slightly, becoming a background rush centered on the friction they were providing her. That soft and familiar pleasure enveloped her like a comfortable blanket as Mingi’s hands moved to help support her as he thrust.

Yunho brought the toy back, slipping it between their bodies, teasing her with indirect stimulation again. He tested as he moved it around her, learning to read her body’s reaction and the tone of her moans. He wanted to bring her close, to make her ride that edge close to orgasm but deny her the relief of reaching it until he was closer. He wanted to draw it out as long as he could last.

Behind her, he could feel Mingi increase his pace, sliding into her as deeply as he could. With his free hand, Yunho reached to give the other boy’s thigh a soothing stroke, silently communicating that there was no rush. Mingi’s hips stuttered and he slowed his movements. Yunho focused on teasing her, keeping his movements inside her at an almost lazy pace. The tightness of her body and the stroke of Mingi against him through her provided more than enough stimulation to continue to bring his own orgasm ever closer.

“How you feeling, love?” Yunho asked, bringing the toy back to give her clit a barely there touch.

“G-good,” she stuttered out. “Please...more…”

“You want this?” He pressed the toy against her more firmly and was rewarded with a gasp as she threw back her head. “If I let you cum now, do you think you could cum again after I do.”

“Yeah,” she agreed quickly, perhaps without considering her answer. “Please…”

“Anything you want, love,” Yunho thrust faster, enjoying the fluttering of her muscles around him. “Squeeze me until I cum love. Let me fill you.” She let out a long moan, her whole body quivering as she came apart. Yunho held the toy against her as she came until she sucked in a breath and grimaced, shifting away from the sensation.

For the moment he set the toy aside, thrusting harder into her as he felt Mingi do the same. Waves of aftershocks rolled through her as they moved, as they touched the deepest parts of her. Mingi reached around, stroking her labia and feeling Yunho thrust between his fingers as he pressed against her pubic bone.

The aftershocks of her orgasm blended into the building of another. She looked into Yunho’s face below her as he moved faster, biting his lip as he felt his own orgasm drawing near. His face grew taught as the sensations grew overwhelming. She wanted to reach out to him, put her hand on his heart and feel its beat. She wanted to put her hands on Mingi where he held her as he moved, his pants teasing in her ear.

“Are you close… both of you?” She managed to grate out as an overwhelming pleasure began to grip her.

“Yes,” Mingi growled near her ear. “God you feel so good around me.”

“I love you, so much,” she breathed, sagging as a tingling weakness began to build in her limbs even as her heart sped at her rising pleasure.

“So good to take us both,” Yunho praised, his hand moving to cup her breast and run his fingers over the leather there. “Just one more time,” he urged, picking up the toy again. She stiffened as the vibrator sent a shock of pleasure through her exhausted body. She clenched around them with an almost painful intensity. Yunho groaned and released himself inside her, bottoming out and holding her hips flush with his as he filled her.

Mingi followed after a few thrusts, holding her to his chest as he did. He loved the feel of her around him, of Yunho still pressed against him from the other side. Her chest heaved and her limbs quivered as the toy stayed wedged between her and Yunho. As the peak of her orgasm passed, the feel went from a nearly painful pleasure to the grating discomfort of overstimulation.

“Please… make it stop…” she managed to beg through chattering teeth. Her words penetrated the post orgasm haze that had enveloped Yunho and he took the vibrator from between them. Turning it off and tossing it on the bed beside him. Mingi loosened his grip on her and she sagged, unable to support her own weight. Weakness suffused her limbs. Mingi caught her and Yunho moved quickly to release her hands from the ties that were keeping them on the headboard. No longer held up by the satin bows, her arms fell limply onto the pillows near Yunho’s head.

“Babe,” Mingi said softly, moving to pull out and let her lie down. She sucked in a sharp breath at the move.

“Don’t move,” she breathed tightly. “I can’t take…”

“It’s okay love,” Yunho soothed, putting his arms up to catch her, to help take some of her weight from Mingi. She whimpered as they lowered her to lie on Yunho’s chest. Mingi pulled back, sliding himself out of her as she let out a distressed moan. Yunho could feel her stomach clench against him and he put a soothing hand on her back. Mingi crawled onto the bed beside them and started to remove the ties around her wrists and to undo the straps of her harnesses that he could reach. He knew they needed to get her cleaned up and these had to come off to do that. The skin under the thigh straps were pink and slick, where the leather had dug slightly into her skin.

“Babe, we need to get you in a bath again,” Mingi told her softly. “I need to get these off first though.” Yunho helped to lift her up enough to take the chest harness away and twisted the belt slightly around her waist until he could reach the buckle. “I’m going to pick you up now, babe. Just gotta get you in the bath.” He rolled her off Yunho towards him until he could lift her into his arms. With her lifted off him, Yunho moved to get the bath ready for her while Mingi held her. He scooped the wilted petals out of the bottom of the tub before he started filling it again, lighting the candles around the edge.

Mingi stepped into the tub, sinking both of them in the water. He turned her in his lap so that she was resting against him, her face resting on his shoulder, as she straddled his legs. He ran a soothing hand over her back, murmuring to her as the water filled in around them.

“Are you okay, love,” Yunho asked, crouching on the floor beside the tub. She lifted an unsteady hand towards his face. He caught it, pressing it to his cheek with a smile.

“I’m okay,” she promised hoarsely.

“I’ll leave you with our best boy here and clean up and make us some food.” Yunho said softly. He took her hand from his face, lifting it instead to his lips for a soft kiss. It was then he noticed the faint bruises that were blooming on her wrists. His stomach clenched at the thought they had been too rough with her, they had hurt her. Standing up, he went to the shower, quickly cleaning himself so that he could work on making it up to her.

Mingi stayed with her in the warm water, washing the stickiness and residues of their afternoon from her body with gentle hands. She sat up to let him wash her chest and arms and Mingi finally spotted the marks on her wrists. He carefully washed and rinsed her skin, lifting her hands to look at the marks there.

“Babe, why didn’t you say something about this,” he sighed, fingering the bruises lightly.

“I didn’t notice,” she shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. “I was thinking about other things at the time.”

“I never want to hurt our precious girl,” Mingi pressed a kiss to first one eyelid and then another.

“It’s not really any different than this,” she brought her fingers up to one of the marks on her neck. “It looks worse than it is and I enjoyed getting it.”

“You’re sure,” he pressed, lacing his fingers with hers and kissing her knuckles. “You promise you’ll tell us if… if it hurts.”

“I promise I’ll always tell you if something hurts or if I don’t like it,” she agreed, brushing her lips against his. “And the same goes for you both as well.”

“Maybe we need a safe word or something,” Mingi decided. “What do you think?”

“Probably wise,” she agreed, getting a thoughtful look. “What about wallaby?”

“Well, you’ll never have another reason to say that in bed,” he admitted. “Which I suppose is sort of the point. Good choice.”

Yunho rejoined them in the bathroom, his face surprisingly serious as he knelt by the tub to ask if she was ready to get out. She nodded, trying to stand on wobbly legs and managing with the help of Mingi, who carefully passed her to Yunho and his fluffy towel. Yunho dried her off with gentle hands before lifting her into his arms and carrying her back to the now cleanly dressed and clear bed. He slipped a t-shirt over her head and tucked her in under the blankets. Taking a glass of water from the bedside table, he offered her the drink, keeping a hand on the glass until he was sure her grip was steady enough to hold it. He couldn’t keep his eyes from falling to her wrists.

“Yunho, you okay?” She asked, seeing the expression he couldn’t hide.

“I’m so sorry,” a pained look filled his eyes before he looked down at the bed, unable to meet her gaze.

“Why, love, what do you have to be sorry for?” She chided.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, especially not today,” his throat burned and tears blurred his vision.

“You didn’t hurt me, my Yuyu,” she reached out, cupping his cheeks. “It’s just a couple of marks. They don’t even hurt.”

“I should have been more careful,” he shook his head. “I was careless, I even just left the vibrator on you when I came. So careless.”

“And when I said you needed to move it, you did,” she pointed out.

“I shouldn’t have--” he began, fiddling with his fingers in his lap.

“Okay, okay… wallaby,” she interrupted, throwing her hands up. The incongruity of the exclamation startled him into looking at her face, his wide eyes blinking. “See, you listen to me when I use my safeword.” She beamed at him, pulling his nervous hands into her own. “Mingi and I thought it was a good idea to maybe have one, so I picked that one.”

“When?” Yunho asked, still a little lost and blinking.

“In the bath,” she shrugged with a laugh.

“Ahh,” he nodded, finally smiling at her. “Well I’ll definitely remember it.”

“I had fun today,” she pulled at him, coaxing him to curl up beside her.

“Really?” Yunho asked, wanting to be reassured.

“Mm-hmm. Ask me if I’d do it again,” she elbowed him lightly.

“Would you do it again?” He asked, lacing his fingers with hers.

“As soon as my limbs start working again,” she nodded with absolute confidence.

“Tired?” He looked down at her, trying to read how she was really doing.

“Yeah but I’m more feeling sort of jello-y and weak,” she admitted. “It’s a good thing you two are pampering me today because I’m not sure I’d make it down the hall right now, much less be able to stand long enough to make myself some dinner.”

“Are you hungry?” Yunho sat up a little straighter.

“Mmmm,” she nodded. “Can I have some juice though, first? I’m feeling a little jittery still.”

“Yeah,” Yunho nodded and slid off the side of the bed. “I’ll be right back.” He jogged down the hall to find Mingi already in the kitchen working on the dinner they had planned. He was standing at the stove in his boxers checking that there was still water in the bottom of the pan that was steaming the artichokes.

“Have I told you today that I love you?” Yunho said coming up behind the other boy to give him a back hug while he worked.

“I think so,” Mingi’s brow furrowed slightly while he honestly tried to remember. “When we were making breakfast.”

“Good, good,” Yunho grinned. “I should remember to tell you that more often.”

“I know it even when you don’t say it,” Mingi assured him, giving his cheek a kiss. “Did you come to help or…”

“I was sent to get juice for our girl,” Yunho replied, pulling back and getting a cup from the cabinets. “She said she was hungry too, but she wanted juice first.”

“I figured we could all use some food after all that,” Mingi nodded. “Can you stick the mashed potatoes in the microwave before you go?” Yunho pulled the tub of premade mashed potatoes out of the fridge and put it in the microwave on a low, long setting to reheat then padded down the hall, glass of juice in hand. He found her in bed where he had left her, staring into space with an enigmatic smile.

“Juice as ordered,” he said, passing it to her.

“Thank you,” she said as she accepted it.

“What were you thinking about with that grin?” He asked after she had taken a sip.

“Nothing important,” she shook her head. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

“Sounds like important stuff to me,” he teased.

“Yeah, I guess it is, isn’t it?” she agreed.

Masterlist

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez imagines #song mingi #jeong yunho #kpop smut #kpop imagines #mingi #yunho #mingi smut #yunho smut #yungi #ateez fluff #kpop fluff

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

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In the Arms of the Anus

Fandom: Spider-Man, Thor Pairing: Roger Harrington/Grandmaster Rating: T Word Count: 8883

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @spiderman-homecomeme!!!

Summary: While people all over the world are finding their soulmates, Roger Harrington can barely find time to grab a sandwich. Clumsy, anxious, and stagnating in a mediocre marriage, it's a miracle that he still believes in love.

Today's the day the universe rewards that belief.

Three things about Roger Harrington: he’d just tripped on the sidewalk, he worried daily that he was developing a bald spot, and, at the age of 36, he felt he still believed in love as strongly as did the little girl in his building who’d made all the residents Valentine’s Day cards the year before.

The cards—which Roger had found endearing while his wife had been baffled to the point of annoyance—had been wedged into everyone’s mailbox sometime on the afternoon of last May 19th, and maybe that was why he thought of them today, exactly a year later.

It was helpful, he found, to consider love in markers of time passing, or just numbers. The anniversary of those Valentine’s cards would always be 271 days early, leap year or not. Roger had been married twice, longer the second time. He had zero children, and that was alright with him because he wasn’t totally sure that he did want kids and, anyway, he was too profoundly stressed about the welfare of the teenagers he taught at Midtown to comfortably imagine himself as a fulltime parent.

His wife was cool. Significantly cooler than he was. She drove out of the city to hike every other weekend (he had never joined her and hoped to never be called upon for woodsy companionship), had once performed an emergency tracheotomy on a friend at a dinner party, and had a tattoo on her hip that predated their relationship, which made it consequently, eternally, enigmatic, no matter how many times she told the objectively trite story of its acquisition. Also, she was a casual shoplifter, which made him very, very nervous in a way that he found difficult to differentiate from how he felt when he was turned on.

He was the kind of person who consistently forgot to take his glasses off before stepping into the shower. She was the kind of person who would run into and recognize a famous race car driver at Whole Foods (that had happened) or fake her own death (that had not happened—knock on wood!). Essentially, what and who his second wife was was the natural successor to his first wife (the reckless young bride to his insomniac young groom), who had in turn been the natural successor to the only other romantic encounter of his life worth mentioning: a kiss on the cheek at a birthday party on the day the Berlin Wall fell. Roger had been seven.

So his romantic history was speckled and, in two out of three cases, spoke a little too loudly of a need for legally-recognized codependence. So he didn’t feel like a man anyone would ever get a tattoo in honour of. So his wife had been a little unkind in the long pause before her negative when he’d asked her if she thought he was getting a bald spot. Roger still felt that love was going to happen for him. Hopefully sustained in his current marriage, but if not, there was always what Julius Dell had taken to (highly unscientifically) calling the Love Wave.

If Roger decided to be really delusional, he could pretend that the Love Wave was to blame for his stumble over uneven concrete on his way to grab lunch. That he was finally feeling its cosmic tug. Not that he would be the last to sense it—the inexplicable force that had lately begun guiding people the world over to their new partners—but every day that he didn’t, he feared his wife would feel it first and go careening out of their life together in a Thelma and Louise-style launch that somehow left her intact and him feeling like he’d plummeted to his death at the bottom of a canyon. Sometimes, when he thought about it, he imagined feeling that impulse to go to this destined soulmate and pictured it leading him home. Not in some metaphorical way, but literally home, to the apartment he shared with his wife, to find her arriving at the same time, the two of them matched up, the universe endorsing their marriage.

The reality was that he was a man with clumsy feet (and knees and elbows) who’d forgotten to pack himself a lunch and had just enough self-awareness (though probably not dignity) not to believe that eating in the cafeteria with his students was something he would be able to socially recover from.

He thought about a poorly-cut-out pink heart glued to a fold of red craft paper. He went to buy a sandwich.

At the deli, Roger waited in line and didn’t so much allow his mind to wander—like a dog off-leash in a dog park—as feel his mind jerk insistently away—like a dog on-leash, trying to snap a dropped slice of pizza off the sidewalk. He was violently not present as his thoughts migrated from Valentine’s Day cards to lesson plans to the anxiety he always felt over the fact of never seeming to have enough power to go with the tremendous sense of responsibility he felt for all situations in which he was even remotely involved. He would have, should have, continued to shuffle vacantly forward in line, except that the man ahead of him grumbled something that drew his focus.

What he grumbled was: “Even the Sorcerer Supreme should be able to spare a minute to decide what kind of sandwich he wants.”

Now, Roger Harrington was a man of science, but he was also a man who had previously enjoyed a close friendship with the Hulk (and if anyone challenged him on specific parameters within that assertion, Roger knew that he would cry). Aliens swarmed the sky like clouds of bees. There were compilation videos of Spider-Man nearly getting hit by city buses that could’ve been designed expressly to see how hard Roger could flinch. For a clumsy man with the unathletic, knock-kneed gait of Pippi Longstocking, Roger did his best to roll with the supernatural punches. Hey, this was how science worked too: just because there wasn’t a precedent yet didn’t mean there never would be. Just because he couldn’t explain something didn’t mean no one could. Sorcerers? Alright. There could be sorcerers.

“Sorcerers?” Roger blurted to the man, overeager to expel the word.

All other words had fled to the back of his mind, twitching in an agitated cluster, leaving just the one to be snatched frantically from the surface. Like fishing. (Roger had never been fishing. One of his greatest fears was having a live fish somehow jump into his shoe and stepping on it by accident.)

“Uhhh,” the man droned. He looked uneasy. If Roger knew how to make his eyes a little less wide in situations like these, he would’ve done it.

“No, yeah, sorcerers, sure,” Roger swiftly backpedaled. “I’m a teacher.”

As if being a teacher equaled knowledge of sorcerers. As if that were a normal unit of the high school curriculum. Roger’s understanding of sorcerers began and ended with Mickey Mouse in a blue wizard’s hat. He wondered if that was sort of the standard look.

The man did not appear reassured. Roger thrust his hand forward.

“Roger Harrington, Midtown Tech.”

Face still wary, his deli companion shook hands.

“Wong.”

“So, this sorcerer of yours didn’t pick a sandwich?” The line shuffled forward and, now in reach of the long glass case of food, Roger attempted to lean his elbow casually against it, misjudged the distance, and jerked back upright again before he could fall over.

“No… You heard that part too?”

“If I could hear the part about the sorcerer, why wouldn’t I be able to hear the rest?”

“I think most people would’ve been so fixated on the sorcerer thing that they wouldn’t really absorb the part about the sandwich.”

“Just got sandwiches on the brain, I guess,” Roger said.

God, if Wong knew a sorcerer, odds were that he was a sorcerer too. (Roger based this on being a teacher with almost exclusively teacher friends and acquaintances.) He was making it sound like he cared more about sandwiches, he knew he was. He stared silently at Wong for a few painful seconds and wondered if the man could tell that he had worked for a sandwich shop as a teenager—the role of wearing a full-body sandwich costume and standing on the sidewalk, trying to attract people into the shop.

But Wong surprised him by nodding.

“You could get one of everything,” Roger heard himself suggest.

He was not typically one to make suggestions, but rather one to panic when other people did and he was in the position of having to choose between them. He could never decide on a restaurant for he and his wife’s now few-and-far-between date nights, or provide straightforward feedback when she asked for his opinion on her clothing choices… which movie they should see… what they should buy for her friend’s sister’s housewarming gift...

Oh god, she was probably going to fake her own death and his biggest anxiety was knowing that someone would ask him to choose the casket!

“I have like…” Wong jingled his pockets and extracted a fistful of coins that, when he opened his hand, Roger saw belonged to several different currencies. “…six bucks.”

Like a mirror with a delay, Roger patted his own pockets to locate his wallet. He flipped it open to reveal something promising and terrifying: he’d forgotten to return the school credit card after the last field trip he’d chaperoned. He shouldn’t, but… sorcerer.

“I think this’ll cover it,” Roger said. “It’s for emergency expenses.”

“Like lunch?” Wong asked doubtfully.

“I could be very hungry.”

“They sell seventeen different types of sandwiches here.”

“I could be very, very hungry.”

Wong shrugged in evident acquiescence and Roger marvelled that it was so simple for him to accept this act of generosity. Roger couldn’t recall the last time someone had been as generous towards him. Wait, yes he could. The Valentine’s Day card. Well, handing over a credit card that wasn’t technically his didn’t exactly equate to presenting his ticket at the Love Wave gates (not that there were such things—not that he’d know), but he was hoping to trade this generosity up for a different magical experience in the near future.

When they reached the front of the line for service, Roger ordered a total of eighteen sandwiches. (And received an undisguised groan of complaint from the people still in line behind himself and Wong.) While they waited, Roger buzzed like the posterchild for over-caffeination, doing his best not to let his excitement translate into erratic movements.

Of course, once the sandwiches were presented and paid for, it only made sense for Roger to help Wong carry them all. His own ham-and-Swiss was stuffed into one of the three bags and they were all bulging, threatening to spill. If one of them ripped on Wong’s journey back to wherever he had to take them, who would be there to gather the sandwiches into their arms so that Wong wouldn’t have to leave them on the ground? Roger was clearly the best (only) person for the job.

And if they talked on the way? That would be natural. If Wong stared at him with abrupt, unyielding suspicion the instant Roger attempted to negotiate a visit with this ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ in exchange for buying his lunch? Yeah. Yeah that suspicion would be fair.

“Not for my sake!” Roger defended as Wong blinked back at him. “For the kids!”

“The Sorcerer Supreme isn’t a birthday party magician.”

“No, I would never imply that! These are bright kids. They’d be there to learn, respectfully. They’ve had their own traumatic encounter with Spider-Man already so there wouldn’t be any clambering to meet another person with superhuman powers!”

“What did Spider-Man do to traumatize them?”

Wong looked interested now, in an entertained sort of way. Meanwhile, Roger was having a flashback of his life flashing before his eyes inside the Washington Monument.

“Actually, he saved us,” Roger explained. “That’s not the point. It would be purely educational. You and the Sorcerer Supreme would call the shots. As long as it wasn’t anything dangerous.”

“Dangerous? We would never put children at risk!”

Roger was about to clarify that he hadn’t meant to imply that they would when he realized Wong seemed to be taking this as a reason to prove himself, or to make the other sorcerer prove what he’d just said.

“I would hope not,” Roger said carefully, “because not all of the children I’ve taken on field trips have come back alive and that haunts me.”

“Well, what haunts me is everything I’ve seen and learned from in order to become someone who could now guarantee a safe field trip environment.”

“Well, that would be great.”

“Well, good,” Wong concluded.

Roger looked down at the bag he was holding as he dug out his sandwich. His wrist twisted and he caught the time on his watch. Oh wow, oh no, his lunch break was almost over.

“Ok, deal,” he said quickly. “We’ll come by next Tuesday!”

“I’ll be out here to let you in!” Wong agreed with a parting wave.

Roger took off running in the direction of Midtown and when that got too awful, he wheezed like an asthmatic and waited at the closest bus stop.

—

Roger had expected Principal Morita to say there was no room in their budget for this trip. That they were nearing the end of the school year, that parents and guardians would be reluctant to sign another form for an excursion that Roger could only give a vague, stammering explanation of. At the very least, he’d anticipated the journey via school bus in lurching, stop-and-start traffic to take so long that the kids would revolt; Flash Thompson would lead the complaints that they could’ve walked to their destination faster than the ride took and Roger would feel the primal horror of a confrontation with a self-possessed teenager who wielded the kind of peer influence Roger could only have dreamed of when he’d been Flash’s age.

But no.

Highly improbably (Roger didn’t like to consider it miraculous), things went smoothly. The trip cleared the budget assessment on zero notice because, besides renting the single bus to transport the students, their outing didn’t actually have any costs. Permission slips came back signed. Traffic was light. And dear, dear Flash—who usually gave Roger so much anxiety—slapped the hand Roger raised to shield his eyes from the sun as his students disembarked from the bus, rewarding him with a surprise high-five for getting them out of the classroom on a Tuesday afternoon. It almost knocked Roger’s glasses off.

They were ushered inside by Wong, who was now laying the mystical solemnity on pretty thick. He certainly wasn’t talking about sandwiches or complaining about the Supreme Sorcerer under his breath.

Before Roger could feel too good about himself though, he realized he’d had time to run through his headcount of the students three times without interruption. Normally, something would happen partway through his first count and he’d be uneasy for the rest of the day, sure that one of the kids had fallen down a manhole or been stampeded by a dog-walker’s unruly canine swarm. The universe shoved teenagers into the path of bike couriers with one hand and paired up soulmates with the other. That was just how things went! However, inside this house (or, no, Sanctum, Wong had called it), the air was still and quiet.

“Do you think he’s gonna make himself appear out of thin air?” Roger heard Ned ask at a whisper. “Or out of a wardrobe, or a trapdoor, or one of those boxes people get in to get sawed in half?”

“Those are cheap tricks,” Wong said loudly. He stared unsympathetically at Roger’s motley group, hand closed around his opposite wrist to maintain a serious pose. “The man you’ll be meeting shortly has capabilities that far outstrip those of the kind of magician-for-hire you’d find in a phonebook.”

From behind him, Roger heard Peter ask Ned what a phonebook was.

“What kind of capabilities then?” Flash demanded.

Roger sighed and was turning to reprimand his student when Wong said, “Like this!”

The man faked a sneeze of horrific volume and range, doubling over and cupping his hand around his mouth and nose. When he straightened up and presented his open palm, there was a raspberry sitting in it.

Roger closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself and his teaching career played on a fast-forwarded film reel behind his lids. The Sorcerer Supreme was a no-show; all Roger had accomplished was taking the kids to a weird building to witness a man pretend to sneeze out a raspberry. Midtown Tech was going to fire him. His wife would recognize his unemployment as a reason to leave him. Depressingly, Roger was thinking about how that would almost be a relief—an end to his incessant worrying that they were really kind of a mismatch—and he was thinking it while he blankly watched Wong eat the raspberry he’d just feigned dislodging from his nasal cavity.

He was really unprepared for a different man to come sweeping down the stairs, motion with his hand, and have a red sheet come whizzing down after him to settle itself on his shoulders. Roger blinked. He heard the mixed noises of fright and appreciation from his students.

Then Flash piped up with, “That’s just a trick. It’s wires or something.”

Roger backed into the cluster of his charges and, without taking his eyes off the obvious Magical Guy in front of him, reached over and placed his hand across Flash’s mouth.

Unfortunately, his censorship seemed to be too late. The Sorcerer’s narrowed eyes zoned in on Flash.

“Oh yeah? How ’bout this? Is this just a trick?”

Fingers splayed, the man moved his hands in a precise, practiced way and a window opened up in the middle of the room. No, not a window, but Roger was having a tough time wrapping his head around it. What this non-window showed was something that wasn’t the room, that wasn’t a view of the street, that wasn’t anyplace in New York, if he had to guess.

“You can’t just do it like that,” Wong said wearily. Roger felt himself and his students look from one of the men to the other as though watching a tennis match. “There should be a little more finesse.”

“Look,” the Sorcerer told him. “You don’t get to spring this on me and then expect me to ham it up for the kids. This isn’t a David Blaine show.”

“Maybe you should watch one. You might learn something about showmanship.”

“So, it’s fake, right?” Flash checked.

Dammit, Roger had dropped his hand, distracted as he tried to make out what he was seeing through what he was becoming increasingly comfortable with calling a ‘magic portal’ in his thoughts. He scrambled to take hold of Flash’s shoulder—yanking him back would be bad, but dealing with the fallout of him pissing off somebody who could make magic portals would be much worse—but Flash dodged him, swaggering forward to inspect the Sorcerer’s work.

“What is it? Mirrors? Greenscreen? You buy your tech from Stark?”

“Stark?” the Sorcerer spat out derisively.

Overcome with the terrible feeling that he was about to find out what it looked like when a wizard put a curse on a child, Roger sprang forward. As he did, three things happened: the Sorcerer rotated his wrist slightly, the scene on the other side of the portal changed, and Flash turned to the side.

Without a student to grab onto and pull to safety, Roger’s momentum sent him hurtling through the gateway currently connecting Midtown to parts unknown.

Of all the times to trip, he thought.

—

The world was bright and fast and bad. Actually, Roger was almost positive that what he was seeing wasn’t the world at all, but he couldn’t put a name to where he was any more than he could think of better adjectives to describe it. Unless the Sorcerer Supreme owned a magical slip ’n’ slide that operated at speeds designed to train prospective astronauts for space travel, Roger was no longer in his building.

The colour of the tunnel of light surrounding him turned from something like the intestinal track of a unicorn who ate lightning and nebulas to a dangerous, broiling red. Roger kept waiting for his skin to bubble, his face to melt off. Maybe he was the fabled frog in the pot of boiling water and had failed to notice the heat steadily increasing. Because he didn’t feel hot. He couldn’t tell whether or not he felt cold either and before he could work it out, he finally landed.

It was rough.

He curled his arms up around his head, protecting his face. He hit and tumbled, hit and tumbled, banging his shins and elbows, setting off a series of metallic clangs and thwumps like his body was playing drums made of the contents of somebody’s recycling bin. Roger could see—once, shaking, he was able to lower his arms and open his eyes—that his imagination hadn’t been far from the mark: he was lying in a heap of trash.

Trembling like a baby deer, he got to his feet and assessed his surroundings. There were piles everywhere. Piles of stuff. Roger could identify some of the battered objects, but most were utterly alien to him. This was like the time he’d found his wife’s sex toys all over again.

“Hello?” he called out, because he seemed to be alone. “Hel—”

His throat closed off abruptly when he swiveled in place and noticed the sky. His mouth fell open. Was that what he had just come through? That furious-looking, billowing, volcanic, enormous… disturbance? Weather pattern? Entrance to hell, if hell were a mountain of trash?

Oh man. Where was Spider-Man this time? Roger didn’t know which would come first, but if something distinctly reassuring didn’t happen in the next 30 seconds, he was going to either burst into tears or pee his pants. His cool wife was going to be so bummed to have to declare him dead instead of faking her own death. And his students would be traumatized, having just witnessed their teacher disappear before their eyes. He spent a frantic 17 of his 30 seconds wondering if this were Jumanji and he’d started a game without realizing it; being sucked into a board game was another of his greatest fears, ever since he’d watched the chilling horror film Jumanji in his teens.

“Hello?” Roger croaked a final time.

Some other scientist—a Tony Stark type—would thrive in this scenario, Roger knew. They would scavenge the surrounding mounds of metal, collecting and assembling pieces into some sort of technology that would either get them home or enable communication with a rescue team. Would there be a rescue team for Roger Harrington? Would anyone even try to get him back?

The cry/pee conundrum was looking more like cry with each passing second until suddenly, amongst the broken things Roger was aggrieved to consider the lone sentinels of his demise, some kind of spacecraft touched down. Based on his recent luck, whoever was at the helm was likely here to kill him, but he immediately elected to throw himself on their mercy, whether that meant rescue or just a swifter snuffing out of his life than he would otherwise experience on this sad island of garbage as he died from dehydration, starvation, and exposure to that infernal gateway in the sky.

He mouthed the word “help” more than said it as he staggered forward on legs he could hardly feel. A door in the side of the spacecraft slid smoothly open and party music blared out. Roger flinched back as though he had not heard the sounds of civilization in years.

A woman exited the craft. She wore an expression about as kind as the murderous upside-down mushroom cloud in the sky and when their eyes met, she barked, “Back!”

Roger executed an awkward reverse lunge, pleading hands raised. Ok, now that his time had come, he didn’t want a quick death. Put out of his misery? No, he would learn to live with his misery, the way he’d learned to live with his college roommates, or his wife’s collection of handmade bowls! With food and water to sustain him, he was suddenly confident that he could be successfully miserable for years if this intimidating woman would just leave him to his own pathetic devices.

But then, like a visitation from a tan, eye-liner-wearing angel of indeterminate age, a man in gold robes emerged from the vessel. He beamed like he had always been beaming, and always would be.

Just like that, Roger Harrington got it. He got what Hot Chocolate meant when they sang that they believed in miracles. He got the meaning of Kylie Jenner’s year of realizing stuff. He got why a child would send out Valentine’s Day cards in May and why his wife was so dedicated to her hiking group and why he was here.

“Now, what did I say about that before we left?” the angel seemed to be asking his companion, though he’d locked his eyes on Roger. “Did I say to harass our visitor or did I say to be nice?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Roger, which he felt more than saw; it was possible that he was crying after all. Tears of joy.

“Harass,” she answered flatly.

The angel chuckled.

“You know, I do like having you around. Before you, I said to myself, ‘Next time, get an enforcer with a sense of humour.’” He sighed as his laughter dwindled. “But you can, uh, skedaddle back onto the ship now. That’ll be all.”

“What if you want to melt him?” she queried.

That was enough to tear Roger’s gaze away from the man and send it zipping nervously to the threatening almost-smile the woman was now directing his way. He’d preferred the murder face.

“Melt him!” the angel said, in a tone that implied her suggestion had been ridiculous. (Roger relaxed. A little.) “Topaz, don’t you realize who this is? Don’t you know?”

She shrugged.

“Trash.”

“No, he’s not trash! Do you think I would’ve left the Grand Arena to retrieve a new gladiator by hand? All those Scrappers don’t do my bidding just so I can dig through the garbage looking for fresh challengers for my champion! I wouldn’t even assign Scrapper 142 this task, and you know she’s my favourite!”

When the woman only grumbled, the man pressed, “You have an unbelievable poker face. Do you really not know why I flew all the way out here for this guy?”

“I’m his soulmate,” Roger blurted, because that was the one thing he did know.

He had no idea what a Scrapper was, or whether the man in front of him was more or less important than the ‘champion’ he’d mentioned, or how his homicidal sidekick planned to melt Roger, but he understood what was happening here. Forget the Love Wave—what had come for him had yanked him violently across solar systems, maybe galaxies. He’d been sucked under by the Love Riptide.

The angel pointed at him and proudly proclaimed, “Correctamundo!”

Then he strode forward and folded Roger into a hug. Roger thought this must be what it was like to be a piece of antique furniture, tenderly wrapped in gold leaf.

“I’m the Grandmaster,” he said.

“Roger Harrington,” Roger offered, feeling that his life was entirely surreal as he cautiously returned the hug.

“As soon as I felt you land on my humble little planet here, I came looking. My orgy guests were disappointed, naturally, but I had to put my interests first. What was I, elected? If they wanted a leader who would pretend to care about everyone equally, they should have organized themselves into a viable political party capable of rivalling my dictatorship, am I right?” He drew back slightly and laughed. “You should see your face! I’m kidding. I would’ve had anyone involved in such a thing put to death. Don’t you worry, Hairball.”

Roger cleared his throat. He’d learned so much in the last few sentences alone. Death. Dictator. Orgy. Any one of those things was a lot to confront and yet… he was calmed by the Grandmaster’s presence. He was alive and unmelted. He’d managed to find his soulmate—a man he’d been almost certain to never meet as things stood with Earth’s individually-impressive but cosmically-insignificant progress with space travel. At long last, the universe had smiled on Roger Harrington.

“Just Roger is good,” he said. If last names ever came up again, he would tactfully correct his soulmate, but with a name like ‘the Grandmaster,’ he doubted they ever would.

“Roger. Anything you say.” Gripping Roger’s shoulders, the Grandmaster leaned in and planted a sound kiss on his forehead with a loud, “Mmmwah!”

He asked Roger if he would like to go aboard his ship, apologizing that it wasn’t the one where he’d just been having the orgy and appearing to check Roger’s face for disappointment. Roger didn’t know what the Grandmaster saw in his expression, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Inside the spaceship, Roger looked around with huge eyes. He hadn’t felt this kind of wonder in a room jammed with so much beyond his understanding since the first time his mom had taken him to the New York Hall of Science as a kid. Everything was bright and white and immaculately clean, and Roger could concentrate on all of it because the Grandmaster had Topaz drop the volume of his party playlist until it was just a low pulse of background noise. Seemingly amused by his awe, the Grandmaster allowed him a peek at the controls before gently herding him into a chamber with seating arranged for socializing. A pneumatic hiss sealed them safely inside and away from the woman’s scowl.

“I really just wanna sit here and, uh, just look atcha, but that look on your face tells me you’ve got about a million questions.”

The Grandmaster settled back into the bench seating, resting his long arms along the top of the seat. Across from him, Roger fidgeted, experiencing sensory overload. Soulmate. Spaceship. Alien planet. He found it hard to decide what to ask first. Was that even polite? Was the Grandmaster just saying that Roger could ask questions when he really wanted Roger to say or do something else? There was an awfully flirtatious look in his eye, the likes of which Roger hadn’t seen directed towards himself in several years.

“What is this place?” Roger asked before he could stop himself. “Where am I?”

“Oh! This is Sakaar! Are you saying you didn’t come here on purpose? I figured you weren’t aiming for a pile of trash, but you really didn’t know where you were going at all?”

Roger shook his head so hard that he had to nudge his slipping glasses back up his nose.

“It was an accident. I fell through a wizard’s—uh, I mean, a sorcerer’s—magic portal. That kind of clumsiness must sound pretty farfetched to someone who’s so obviously…” Roger motioned spastically towards his soulmate, the dictator, with both hands. “…in control of their life.”

The Grandmaster laughed, transparently pleased and preening.

“Oh, Roger, you flatter me.”

He stretched out his leg to playfully tap his shoe (gold) against Roger’s (plain, brown, frayed shoelace). Roger jumped, giddy from an alteration in sea level, possibly, plus life-changing events.

“But it really isn’t so uncommon for people, beings, things… to end up here without meaning to,” the Grandmaster went on. “A lot of junk passes through the Anus. Not that you’re junk, obviously.”

With a winning smile, Roger’s soulmate leaned forward and patted him on the knee. He was a touchy-feely guy, it seemed, and it made Roger cognizant of how very lonely he’d been in his marriage, in the last year especially. How skittish around strangers, how unaffectionate with his friends. This was what he needed, and the universe had understood that.

It took his brain a few seconds to catch up with what his soulmate had said, distracted by the comfort he was taking in his easy warmth.

“The Anus?” Roger asked in a choked voice.

“The Devil’s Anus, to be exact. That enormous, horrifying wormhole out there in the sky!” the Grandmaster explained, gleeful. “Best I can guess, it acts as a funnel for accidental travelers, like yourself. And boy, are we ever grateful for that thing. I’ve never had to post any ‘Help Wanted’ flyers, I’ll tell ya that. We need more people serving drinks? Boom. More entertainers? Boom. More lubricators for the orgies? Boom, the Anus provides, baby.”

Roger didn’t inquire what the duties of a person with the job title ‘orgy lubricator’ entailed; it seemed sleazily self-explanatory. He just nodded.

“And now,” his perfect, golden match continued, “the portal brings me my soulmate. I love that thing. It’s really somethin’, huh?”

“It’s really something,” Roger agreed. “Really, really something.”

“You’re looking just a little stunned there, Rodge. Can I offer you something to eat? A drink? I promise, I’m usually a much better host. I feel like I’m positively, uh, bumbling right now.” He beamed.

This man was so many things at once—possibly too many—but bumbling was so far from being one of them that Roger actually laughed weaky in his state of happy, semi-delirium. He accepted the cold glass that was pressed into his hand, the brush of the Grandmaster’s warm palm across his forehead. He had moved to sit right next to Roger.

“You can get used to this place at your own pace, within reason.” His soulmate chuckled. “Heck, we can stay right here a day or two. My plans are cancelled, and when I stop, the world stops. That’s how it is, being the Grandmaster, and that’s how it’s gonna be for you too. You can give all your worries a big, wet kiss goodbye, my love. You’re living a life of luxury now. A court of sycophants, fights to the death in the evening, orgies on a lazy afternoon. I’m talkin’ a life of pure class—”

“Class!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s what I said.” The Grandmaster was wearing a languid smile as he traced the back of his fingers along Roger’s jaw.

But Roger was suddenly too alert to be lulled by welcome caresses and delicious, exotic beverages.

“I was teaching a class before I fell through the portal,” he said. “I’m a teacher. My students are probably terrified. Some of them might be messed up for life after watching me disappear right in front of them. What have I done…”

“So you gave them a cool story to tell their friends! You don’t need to think about that anymore. Now that you’re living here—”

“I can’t live here!” Roger said, seizing the Grandmaster’s hands in his as he tried desperately to explain. “I have responsibilities as an educator! Jesus Christ, I’m married!”

“Roger. Rodge. Rodge. Hey,” his soulmate said, finally disrupting Roger’s spiral of panic. “That’s all in the past. Do you know how many creatures from just, uh, every darn corner of the universe I’ve made slaughter each other for my entertainment? Thousands, Roger, ok? Thousands. And it’s taught me oodles about life. What I’ve learned is that love is the only thing that matters. What all of those poor bastards scream for in the end is their mom, their partner, their best friend. Now, that doesn’t help them, but it helps us. It helps us understand that we’ve done it—we’ve achieved the one thing in our lives that was worth a damn to achieve. I’m not gonna, gonna now be parted from you, sweetheart. You are the point of me.”

Roger felt himself growing teary at the speech. Yes, this had been a whirlwind—they’d met no more than 15 minutes ago—but he was feeling something just as deep as the love the Grandmaster described. It was a fantasy in the best way, the life his soulmate pictured for them (most of it… maybe not the part about slaughter). But it was a fantasy in the worst way too, something so impossible that Roger felt sick for getting as attached to this man as he already had.

“I can’t,” he said softly. He let his head hang down, solaced when the Grandmaster guided it onto his shoulder and wrapped a protective arm around him.

“Can’t you? For me? Roger, if I put you on a ship and send you back through the Anus, we may never meet again.”

Roger squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to be selfish, but there were people he couldn’t leave in the lurch. People who maybe didn’t care about him in a way that was equal to how he cared about them, but that was how any kind of relationship was, apart from soulmates. There were imbalances. He knew he might not be the most brilliant scientist, the most inspirational teacher, the husband a woman would prefer over the outdoorsy hunk in her hiking group, but he knew who he was: he was someone who couldn’t just walk away.

“We’ll be together again,” Roger said, clutching the Grandmaster’s robes. “After.”

Though he didn’t yet know what ‘after’ would mean.

—

It wasn’t as unexpected as it could have been—Roger had always had a feeling he’d die on a school bus.

The difference between his fears and reality was that he wasn’t departing this world in a fiery crash or zooming out of control between the steel trusses and into the East River. There was confusion, there was chaos, there were screams and the violent honking of horns, but there were elements he couldn’t have predicted. Primarily, the giant alien spacecraft hovering over the city. The ship immediately moved into first place of the most ominous rings in his life (he and his wife were not in a good place). Since its sighting, things had quickly spiraled out of control. Julius had radioed Roger from the other bus of students they were chaperoning to MoMA to report that Ned Leeds had ‘flipped his shit’ and Peter Parker was currently missing. Roger had nearly passed out. The only thing that had kept him conscious was his jittery concern for the rest of his students.

At Midtown Tech, they had drills for almost every eventuality. As of 2012, hostile outer space invasion was actually part of their repertoire, but it had always been assumed they would be at school when it happened, not out on a field trip. The most Roger had been able to think to do was get the kids to a secure location. Which meant getting the buses to a secure location. But the buses were on the bridge, and all over the bridge drivers were panicking, mindlessly stomping on the gas and attempting to swerve around the rest of the vehicles. Above the blood rushing in his ears, he’d heard crash after crash, until their bus was hemmed in and, through the smoking, crumpled hoods of their fellow commuters, the alien ship hung stationary in the sky. Disturbingly tranquil as New York City went to pieces to the tune of apocalyptic dissonance just below.

In the end, the spaceship hadn’t stayed put, but Roger had. The lanes around them were crowded with smashed cars. Glass from shattered windshields glittered on the pavement. Still, more vehicles surged forward as drivers attempted to use the bridge to flee the city; this wasn’t NYC’s first alien rodeo. He hadn’t attempted to force any of his students to remain on the bus—they were some of the smartest and the best of their generation, and he trusted their survival instincts far more than his own—but he did direct the ones who fled to first climb up onto the roof of the bus instead of dropping directly down onto the street and risking injury. Yes, he worried about minor cuts and bruises. Even now.

He thought that Flash was staying with him, and was touched. But then he realized Flash was just gripping his shoulder for leverage as he jumped and grabbed for the emergency roof hatch with his free hand. Roger knew the boy was somewhat neglected by his parents, and so, for the first time, he was happy go hear ‘Hotline Bling.’ It was Flash’s ringtone and it played incessantly as his phone rang and rang until the song, and the sound of Flash running, faded into the distance. Somebody wanted to see that he was safe. Somebody cared about him.

Alone, Roger hunkered down between the seats, knees bent in front of him. He scraped one hand anxiously through his hair and gripped his phone in the other.

He should call his wife. He knew he should. Only, he was afraid that she either wouldn’t pick up or she’d answer and be with the guy from her hiking group. Roger wasn’t even upset; he was glad she had someone, if this was it.

Ever since he’d returned from Sakaar, he’d been different, he was aware that he had. In the past, his wife had been largely responsible for the sundering of their marriage, but Roger knew that he was now pulling away too. It had begun inside him—the tear. He wanted to be with two people for two different reasons. In two places, on two worlds. Commitment clashed with longing. Logical rightness fought emotional rightness. He’d been weak, persuading himself daily to tough it out with his wife (even as he slept on the couch every night because lying beside her made him unhappy), when, for once in his damn life, he wanted to be fulfilled. Somewhere out in the stars, there was a man with blue eyeliner and an entire planet at his capricious command and he was the person for Roger.

If only, he thought, picturing the face he shouldn’t have been able to recall so clearly for the brevity of their encounter months ago. Roger shut his eyes to better remember the Grandmaster, and so he wouldn’t have to see his phone clatter to the bus’s dirty floor when the hand that held it turned to dust.

—

As with his life on regular, non-apocalypse days, not much happened to Roger. Despite his paralyzing breakdown on a school bus, he wasn’t among the billions scattered to the wind like sentient dandruff. He picked himself up and went home. Sure, he was shivering almost out of his skin from the shock, but he didn’t collapse into wracking, snotty sobs until he was safely in his living room, listening to his neighbours’ wails through the condo’s walls.

Roger’s wife wasn’t there, didn’t answer when he called her, and, three weeks later, still hadn’t made contact. It took another two months to hold her wake; the funeral business was booming. Never had so many words been spoken over so many vacant graves. Some members of his wife’s hiking group attended, some had even helped him select the right music and flowers beforehand. They knew her preferences. It felt surreal to be burying a person he couldn’t prove—in any meaningful way—that he’d really known.

With a queasy sense of being very lucky, he accepted that, apart from his marital status, his life hadn’t been upended. His windows weren’t broken, his car wasn’t stolen, the few family members he was out of touch with anyway had also survived. He went back to work before anybody called him in. There weren’t any students at first, just the echo of Roger’s clumsy footsteps tripping over the rug in the staffroom, half-solved equations on the whiteboards in the math classrooms, and the unholy stench of unwashed pinnies when he poked his head into the gym storage room to see if Coach Wilson was around. One day, Roger tipped back in the chair at the front of his own empty classroom and spotted a gigantic cobweb in the corner of the ceiling. It made him think of Spider-Man. He guessed that guy was gone too.

The most important thing for keeping sane was establishing a regimen. Work was a big part of that, but Roger also traveled daily into Manhattan to visit the Sorcerer’s place. It became a kind of pilgrimage. Early on, Wong would come out to say hello, but it was eventually less about commiseration and more of a perfunctory thing. Roger knew (assumed, hoped) that if the Sorcerer ever did return, Wong would let him know and welcome him inside. And then… a portal? And then the Grandmaster? He tried not to think about it too hard. Yearning took up a lot of energy and, when his students began to come back to school in distressingly low numbers, Roger needed to reserve that energy for teaching.

Everything was the same, every day, until it wasn’t.

For a reason he couldn’t rationally explain, Roger knocked on the Sorcerer’s door. While he was waiting—just a few seconds, he planned—a man materialized on the sidewalk right next to him. He tottered and Roger reflexively said, “Whoa!” and grabbed his shoulder to keep him on his feet. Before Roger could hypothesize or ask the man any questions, a teenage girl returned to existence a few feet away. Then a woman holding a toddler tightly in her arms. A little boy. A man with a dog. A bicycle-less bike cop, still wearing his helmet. Releasing the man, Roger spun and pounded against the door with his fist.

Still, no one answered.

Fighting the urge to show up at Midtown Tech, Roger made himself stay put, right there on the Sorcerer’s doorstep.

He waited a long time. As the sun set, New York City rose around him. He watched people hugging, running home down the middle of the street. He fielded unfinished questions as the newly returned began to ask him what had happened, what time it was, what year, before jogging away, more purposeful with every step they took. Roger’s foot began to bounce on the sidewalk and his clammy hands twisted fretfully. It was still another 12 hours before the door opened.

Roger fell backwards into Wong’s shins, delirious from the sickening seesaw between urgency and exhaustion. Everywhere, people were reconnecting. He scrambled to his feet because he wanted to be one of them.

“Is he here?” Roger demanded.

Wong narrowed his eyes slightly, holding the door so it couldn’t be pushed open further.

“Might I remind you that it’s me you’ve been seeing here the last five years.”

“Yeah,” Roger agreed, trying to see past.

“I thought we had developed a rapport.”

Finally, Roger met Wong’s eyes, his own pleading.

“No, yes, you’re right, we have,” he babbled.

“We’re friends.”

“Yes, of course, we are friends. Definitely.”

“So when is my birthday?”

Roger’s mouth hung open as he searched his brain for a piece of information he knew wasn’t in there. A few seconds later, Wong turned mirthful.

“Did you spend the Blip hiding under a rock where there are no jokes? Come inside. We just got back.”

None of the thousands of times he’d come to the door mattered—Roger hadn’t been inside the Sanctum since that first time. He hoped the Sorcerer remembered him.

When he saw the man, Roger’s steps stuttered. The Sorcerer appeared grim and wiped out. He was dirty and he looked older, though Wong whispered to Roger that the Sorcerer had been among the Snapped. Roger understood that, for something to go right and bring everyone back to life, something else had gone wrong. He could dwell on that and awkwardly bow his way back out of there, or he could convince himself that things had gone wrong for him too, and that he’d like them to be righted. He remembered that his soulmate was a dictator and tried to channel that sense of entitlement.

“What do you know about the Anus?”

The Sorcerer blinked.

“What.” The word came out perfectly flat.

“The Anus.”

“I wasn’t that kind of doctor.”

Roger strode eagerly towards him, hands gesturing before his words caught up.

“When I was here about, um, five and a half years ago, I fell through your magic portal—”

The Sorcerer snapped his fingers in recognition and turned to Wong.

“Oh, that’s who this is. I always wondered what happened to that guy.” He looked at Roger again. “How did you get back to Earth?”

Roger hadn’t been prepared to answer this question, just make his demands, and he began to explain what had happened to him, all out of order. The words ‘orgy ship’ had barely left his mouth when the Sorcerer was waving him into silence. His expression told Roger he was sorry he’d asked.

“So you went through the portal…” he prompted instead.

“That’s right! And for a while, I was just falling. I don’t know where I was.”

The Sorcerer stroked his chin.

“The connection must’ve been unstable. I know—one of your students distracted me.”

“That’d be Flash,” Roger said.

“Jesus. This is why I prefer not to be a field trip destination. Normally, the portal would allow you to pass cleanly through one place and into another.”

“And instead he passed cleanly through the Anus,” Wong summarized.

“…Yeah.”

Roger glanced from one man to the other.

“So,” he said, “could you do it again?”

The Sorcerer stared at him.

“The short answer is no. The long answer is also no, but it contains a great deal of vernacular to do with the Mystic Arts, so I’ll save us both some time.”

The last time Roger had defended his intellect and qualifications had been years ago, and he was out of practice. Anyway, he didn’t want a lengthy debate.

“Can’t you just open a portal and shove me through?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a lot going on today. I’ve only entertained you this long because you and Wong seem to be friends. I’m not just going to mess around to humour you.”

“What if you had to do it?” Roger asked quickly, beginning to feel desperate and preparing to metaphorically jam one of his clumsy feet into the closing window of opportunity.

“Uh, let me think about that,” the Sorcerer droned disinterestedly. “No.”

“What if I attacked you and you opened a portal in self-defence?”

The Sorcerer squinted at him in disbelief and befuddlement.

“What?”

But Roger was already gracelessly throwing his weight into a wild, uncoordinated punch.

For once, he didn’t think critically of himself; he told himself that the Sorcerer’s portal sparked up between them because he was intimidated by Roger’s tenacity. And that it didn’t show a clear destination because the Sorcerer’s reaction speed was no match for Roger using the element of surprise. And that he dove purposely through the portal—on a mission for love and science and the unknown—instead of tumbling into it sideways because the momentum of his unpracticed punch had gotten the better of his balance. It didn’t matter. His feet went out from under him and he was on his way.

Roger had forgotten how intense the trip was, but he completely recalled the rough landing, bouncing down through a stack of the universe’s lost garbage. He shut his eyes to the whooshing and the brightness and braced himself (probably too early, but he didn’t think he could be too careful on this reckless endeavor).

He felt his body hit open air and gasped as he fell, trying to keep his limbs tucked in. The hat he’d been wearing was torn from his head. Didn’t matter; it wouldn’t have offered much protection anyway. At any moment, his poor elbows and knees would be battered by space junk. Between his velocity and his fear of the coming impact, Roger could hardly breathe.

Music. A familiar voice singing, It’s my soulmate! made his eyes fly open. Right in time to land on his back. Whatever was beneath Roger was soft, but he’d still had the wind knocked out of him and was struggling to fill his lungs. His eyes clamped shut as he began to cough.

“I have no idea how you survived that thing twice, but I sure am glad I caught ya.”

Finally sucking in a stronger breath, Roger opened his eyes and looked up. His glasses were askew. Above him was the opening in the ceiling of a hovering spacecraft, but closer than that, leaning over him, was the face of the Grandmaster. He was beaming.

“Any trouble with the Anus?” he asked.

Roger grabbed for the hand his soulmate had rested on his shoulder and moved it to his chest, right over his heart.

“The asshole who got me here will probably be thrilled to never see me again, but the Anus treated me just fine.”

“Ha!” the Grandmaster barked. His free hand lovingly patted Roger’s windblown hair back into place. “Welcome home.”

#my writing #MCU #spider-man #thor: ragnarok #Roger Harrington #En Dwi Gast (the Grandmaster)#their ship name is Mr. Master and they're what G deserves on her birthday

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paradise-creator · 3 years

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Pauline's song:

A royal Au with Daichi Sawamura! Dancing and Semi comfort. You can never feel unloved with his man.

Word count: 1.9k

Genre: Fluff

The masquerade ball has been going on for hours at this point. Starting when the sun had set and it will continue was the sun will rise. As the people danced inside, the music was loud and food was served. Daichi, the king of Karasuno, was merely watching his fellow royals walk along the crowd and finding for people to chat with. “Are you not going to socialize?” Sugawara, his right hand man asked as he placed his hands on his hips. “Oh, well Ushijima left to reunite with his love so I am just waiting for an opportunity,” The blackette said. “Opportunity to get your babe?” Sugawara teased. “Yes, exactly that,” Daichi said. “Where is M’lady anyway?” The silver asked. “She is currently mingling with a few nobles down over there,” Daichi said as he gestured to where you were.

As the queen of Karasuno, you were dressed in a gown of your choice. It was your favorite dress, after all. It was also Daichi’s favorite. Cause it really matches you and he loves the sparkle in your eye whenever you wear it. “I heard you married King Daichi Sawamura of Karasuno, congrats~” One of the girls said as she placed her fan in front of her mouth. “Yes! Sawamura has been so sweet! I absolutely love him,” You responded as you smiled. “Show us the ring!” Your closest friend said as they looked at you. You showed them the ring Daichi gave to you. The symbol of his undying and eternal love for you, his queen. “That is a really pretty ring!” One of them said as they looked at your ring. “Yeah, he picked it himself,” You responded with a smile.

As the conversation continued, things got a bit uncomfortable. “You know on how some royals marry for political purposes, are you sure Daichi loves you?” One of the nobles said. You hummed in confusion as you looked at her. “Of course I know he loves me,” You responded. “It doesn’t seem like it though,” Another commented. “What do you mean?” You then asked as you slightly glared at them. “Well Karasuno was a weak kingdom before recently, are you sure he isn’t using this as a political advantage?” One said. “Or maybe it was a scheme for them to rise to power?” One added. They explained their part and it made sense to you. Daichi is a gentleman, so maybe he was just doing this for curtesy. Was all the moments you both spent together a fraud? All the stolen kisses, the dates, and even the moments you held in close doors. Are all of them just curtsy? A sense of insecurity flooded your senses but you still kept the smile upon your face.

As the conversation about your relationship with Daichi continues, your lover noticed the change of behavior from you and decided to go check. He was observing you from afar and he knows your habits. “Pardon me, m’ladies,” Daichi said as he came towards you and your group of friends. You all greet him and some tried to change the subject. “Your majesty, these three tried to spread lies about your love for your queen,” Your friend then explained to Daichi. You subtly give her a “What was that for?” face while she mouth your welcome. “Is this true?” He asked as he looked at you. You responded honestly and looked away from his gaze. His face stoic and cold in front of the three said nobles. “Such blasphemy you are spreading,” He started as he gently made you look at him. He placed one of his arms on your waist and his other hand cupped your cheek.

His cold and stoic expression melted into a soft one. His eyes and smile could show how much love he has for you. The gentleness of his hands and the warmth. All of it reminded you of home. All your worries washed away as you leaned in to his touch. “I love you, okay? Don’t ever doubt that,” He said as he kissed your forehead. He then turned back to the ladies in front of you. “To answer the already obvious question. I love her,” Daichi started as he pulled you close. “I love her with all my heart. She is my queen, my lover, my other half. This ring I gave her shows that I want to be by her side for eternity. It is not just some political project. What I feel for her is genuine and real” He added as he displayed his ring to them. His voice was soft and filled with love. Those that are listen can feel the sheer amount of love he has for you.

It was not a surprised. Everyone can see how much love he has for you. But it’s oh so easy to feel down. How could you forget the promises he had given you? The vows that you both exchanged. For better or for worse, you both would be together. Daichi looked at you with such fondness. He leaned in and kissed your forehead. He then looked at all of them before turning back to you. He leaned in and kissed you softly. He cupped your face and pulled you closer. Once he pulled away, he had a smirk. He then kissed your forehead and let you recover from his attempt.

“Anyone who says otherwise will have consequences,” Daichi said coldly. “Come now my darling. Let’s go to somewhere else,” He then said as he led you out of the place. “See you, your majesty!” Your friend then said as they waved goodbye. You and him walked silently across the busy ballroom. As people made way for the two of you, Daichi held you close and refused to let go. Once you both were outside of the palace, things were a bit peaceful. It was silent the whole time, the tension and awkwardness was, unnerving.

“Don’t listen to them,” Daichi said as he stopped walking. Now the two of you were in a middle of an empty hallway. It was very well lit and at your left was a door to the garden. Daichi turned to face you, he gently made you look up and smiled. “I love you, and you alone.” He explained. “I’m not doing this for curtesy or for political purposes. I am infatuated with you. I am devoted to you,” He explained further. He cupped your face gently and placed his forehead on yours. “I’ll remind you, no matter how many times it takes. I love you, I love you, I love you,” He said as he kissed your forehead. “Alright?” He said as he pulled away. You responded to his advances and he chuckled. He loves your reaction, no matter what it would be.

“I have a place to show you,” He said as he held you hand. He opened the door to the left to reveal a beautiful garden. You had a garden in your castle as well, but this was something else. Everything seems so familiar and close but you knew that this was the first time you were here. “This is so pretty,” You responded as you looked around. As your eyes wander, it was hard to keep track of all the details. There were statues, lamps, and even floating lanterns. The flowers were so pretty and arranged in such a way that all of them could shine in their own way. Each of them had a different meaning and so different yet together, they seem so unified. There was fairy lights to light up the place. It gave it a more fantasy output. It gave enough light to see the path but also dim enough not to disturb the nocturnal animals. A perfect balance, Kuroo thought this through well. “That’s not all,” Daichi said as he led you further inside. You looked around and saw night butterflies or better known as moths. “Don’t worry, we are just passing by,” He reassured. As you passed by the moths, you realized how pretty they are. Some were brown in color but some were even blue and green. It gave a sense of nostalgia. The memories of childhood came flooding in.

But passing the flower area, in front of you was an arch way. It was covered in plants and seemed to be old but still very sturdy. With Daichi leading you, you felt safe. It was an unfamiliar place but it still felt nostalgic. The flowers that hang from the arc, the leaves that sway with the wind. The night gave an unfamiliar feel to this majestic garden. When Daichi finally stopped leading you, you looked at what was in front of you. It was large empty gazebo surrounded by flowers. Specifically, the flowers were different colored tulips. And within the flowers there were fake tulips that light up like fairy light. The vines that were attached on the supports made it look even more majestic.

“Here we are,” Daichi said as he smiled. But there was two people about to go out. “Ah, Daichi, a pleasure,” Oikawa said as he pulled his lover close. “Oikawa, it’s a coincidence seeing you here,” Daichi replied. As the two briefly talked, you and his lover looked at each other. “Is your idiot this tense or?” She asked as she looked at you. “Idiot? Far from that but he isn’t this tense,” You replied with a soft smile. “Oh, thank the gods. I’m dealing with this idiot everyday so at least the others won’t struggle as much,” She playfully said. “You know I just prosed to you and this is how you treat me,” Oikawa then pouted. “Oh? Really? Congratulations for a new chapter in life, Oikawa,” Daichi said as he pulled you close. “Yeah now I have to spend my whole life with this handsome hunk of a man,” Oikawa’s lover said with a smile. You congratulated them and chatted for a while. “We’ll leave you two alone now. Trashykawa and I will go now. I deeply apologize for the intrusion,” The short female said as she held Oikawa’s hand. “We are about to get married in a month and this is how you treat me?” Oikawa then whined. “You better invite all of us, even Ushiwaka,” Daichi reminded. “Yeah yeah whatever,” The taller male then said as he disappeared with his lover.

“Now that they are gone, shall we continue?” Daichi asked. “We shall,” You added as you held his hand. You both went towards the gazebo and you were in awe. The roof of the gazebo had hanging stars and butterflies. You awed at the intricate design and the hanging decoration. “It’s pretty isn’t it?” Daichi said. “It really is,” You added. “But that is not the best part,” Daichi then said as he walked towards this box that is on a pedestal. He pressed on a button and soft music started playing. “Kuroo said that he installed this for those that want some privacy with their lovers,” Daishi said. He then started to walk towards you and offered his hand. “And so I asked If I could use it,” He continued. “May I have this dance, My queen?” He asked as he offered his hand. You accept his hand and he pulled you close. “I love you,” He said as he started dancing with you. “Don’t you ever forget that,” He added. He continued to lead you with the dance, making sure that you would be able to follow. “You don’t even try but you make me feel butterflies in my stomach,” He continued. As you both danced together, the wind blow making the hanging stars and butterflies dance with you.

The night continued with the two of you dancing the night away. Butterflies aren’t the only ones that dances beautifully.

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someonewhowannadielol · 4 years

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Blossom fully (deep in my bones)

(Teacher!JK x College student!Reader) PART ONE

Warnings: JK has anger management issues, very slight violence, a lot of fluff, don't get a heart attack.

Genre: Fluff.

Word Count: 10.3k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

I have decided to turn this into a trilogy. This is Part One, enjoy. Let me know if you want to be tagged (you could just comment, or dm me).

Love. Adoration. Lust. For Jeon Jungkook, his entire life, they had been just words, nothing more – after all, these were just concepts made by society, what if people had not known about the concept of love? Would they still try to find it? Would they still be willing to work for it? Then, you came into his life, and gave meaning to those words.

“Welcome to the annual football championship between Seoul Nation University and Sungkyunkwan University 2020,”

“Break his jaw!” Jungkook heard the other team chant, while looking at him. He just scoffed while adjusting his gloves, as if.

“Really? Think you can do it? Go ahead and try,” Jungkook mocked them across the field, his tongue poking against his left cheek.

Jungkook was never set out for failure, it was never allowed in his life – because he knew for a fact that his father would have his throat if he didn’t turn out to be the best of the best.

At age five, he had a strict workout regime and had less than 10 percent body fat, maintained till present date. He had also learnt that he would rather be loved than feared, he hated the look in the eyes of his classmates when he accidentally punched his seatmate, Byung-chul, just because he had taken his red crayon without asking. Now, no one would sit next to him at lunch.

He told himself that he didn’t mind it, but he couldn’t help but cry at night because no one wanted to play on the see-saw with him. He knew if he asked them, they would have no choice other than to say yes, after all, they didn’t want to end up like Byung-chul, hospitalized, with a broken arm. But what’s the use, if they don’t actually want to be with him?

Age seven, he had landed his first punch on his butler when he saw him abuse his dog. He didn’t know what to tell to his therapist, how could he explain that all he saw was red when he saw Yeontan being thrown out of the room? How could he explain that he had no control over his body? He couldn’t control the beast in him that had pounced over the man.

Age ten, he landed his position as quarterback on the national “Under 19,” football team. Soon, he had to drop out – not because he couldn’t play well, hell, he was probably the most talented played that they could’ve scouted. But, because he wouldn’t tolerate any thing that would come in the path of him and his success.

Age fifteen, he had graduated high school, gotten a perfect 1600 in his SAT, and been given a full ride to SNU. Throughout his high school career, despite having narrow minded, shallow and mindless classmates, Jungkook still wishes he made more memories, had photos with friends in his camera roll (rather than just pictures of sunsets and tattoo designs),

Age 20. Present Day, and he had earned the title of Doctor, not that he could actually perform in the surgeries because of his “anger issues”. Currently, he was a Grad student, but also taught the first year Undergrads, just because of his immense knowledge that could be on par with the old, wrinkly professors that had been teaching since 30+ years.

There had never been a championship, never an exam, never a game that Jeon Jungkook hadn’t won. He wasn’t going to lose this one either. The chants from hundreds of people across the campus stadium were deaf on his ears when he heard the other team’s captain call him an asshole.

Everyone knew Jungkook had well, anger management issues. And to say they were bad was, well, an understatement. So far, the only thing he’s learnt from 14 years of anger management classes, movies, documentaries and seminars is that – only attack when they punch you enough to make you bleed.

“Jeon! Look out!”

Without a warning, the other team’s captain had punched him in the face, hard enough to bust his lip.

Jungkook just sighed, shook his head as if he were disappointed (He was, in fact disappointed, did this dumbass not known what he could do to him?), and calmly just brushed his white glove against his lip, internally wishing he could see his red blood smeared across it.

And there it was, a streak of blood. Then, Jungkook punched him back – not stopping until his face was almost disfigured – suits him for even trying to mess with Jeon Jungkook.

Around an hour later, Jungkook already knew he was going to be chewed out by the college dean, so he was already counting down from 100 on his way to seminar room number 3.

“54, 53, 52, 51,” he muttered under his breath, pushing back his – now long (he really ought to cut it now, it was starting to get into his eyes) – hair back with his left hand, and entered the room. He could see he interrupted a lecture, and was almost about to head back when-

“Oh! Jeon Jungkook, what a pleasure!” he heard the college dean speak in his pretentious, and extremely conceited voice, here we go again.

“Everyone! Welcome Doctor Jeon Jungkook, he’s one of our in-house surgeons. Topper of the college, topper of the board, topper of the university. In fact, he’s of the one of the best – if not the best student SNU has ever got the chance to teach. He’s got the most impeccable academic record, of all time, now going to teach biochemistry to first year undergraduates this year,” Jungkook scoffed when he heard the entire class clap their hands at his arrival, after the Dean’s speech that complimented him, but he knew better, he kne-

“But what’s the use of all that? In anger management, he scores a zero. He’s a classic example for all of you, if you can’t hold your anger in, you’re nothing more than a murderer with surgical instruments in an emergency ward. Without compassion, your degree is of no use to me. Even a low score is acceptable to me, but not that behaviour,”

Was he trying to rile Jungkook up on purpose?

“Please continue, sir, I really loved the analysis you’ve done on me, please do continue,” The words flew out of Jungkook’s mouth as he made his way up the stairs to the stage where the dean stood.

“What behaviour is this? I need you to write an apology letter to Sungkyunkwan University, and to the college board as well,”

It was clear the dean was about to get off the stage, before well, Jungkook spoke again. The dean didn’t really think he was getting off this easily, did he?

“Football is a violent sport, the minute they entered our territory, and tried to abuse the rules, that’s the minute everything and anything is allowed. As far as the apology goes, I’d rather quit the college than write that bullshit,”

The seminar room was so quite that a pin dropped would shatter the silence. Jungkook smirked before he exited, “I won’t lose anything by leaving SNU, any other medical program in the world will be ready to accept me, the only reason I stay in this hellhole is because I enjoy the spring in Seoul. But imagine the loss of pride that SNU will experience once Jeon Jungkook leaves the establishment,”

Jungkook walked across the campus cafeteria as he tried to find his lighter in his pocket, fiddling with his cigarette in his other hand. “Are you seriously going to leave?” Jimin runned after him, struggling with his lab coat, “what will you get out of this? Just write the goddamn apology,”

Jungkook decided to settle on a table where three rowdy boys sat, flexing their muscles, but as they saw Jungkook approaching, they simply muttered apologies before scattering away, leaving the table.

Jimin-ah,” Jungkook smiled as he puffed his cigarette, “there’s nothing for me here, besides, I was planning to move to the US, anyways,”

“And leave me and Tae here? Wow, you’re such a considerate friend, you know,” Jungkook saw Jimin pout, and smiled.

It was really a miracle that he made his first two friends ever while his second year, here at SNU. Jimin loved pets, and was practicing to become a vet, while Taehyung was – kind of – crazy, and even scared Jungkook the first time he met him. He’s pretty sure Tae would’ve set the lab on fire if Jungkook hadn’t studied chemical properties before his class. At first, he hated it when both of them would tag along, following him to lunch, inviting themselves into his mansion, and forcing him to go to the arcade with them – but soon, he had learned to love being around them.

While looking around for Tae, so he could finally break the news of him leaving, his eyes landed on your figure. Now, Jungkook had never believed in love at first sight. Hell, he didn’t even believe in love, so, love at first sight seemed a little – well, impossible. But here you were, the reason why Jungkook felt like his heart was going to come out of his ribcage, it felt as if Jungkook had been struck by cupid, because the way you looked so adorable in your pink dress had left Jungkook feeling giddy. Seoul had a lot of pretty girls, he saw them every day, some of them even deserved to be on the cover of Vogue – but you, you were different, Something about you, your vibe, your pink cheeks and eyes that curled up when you smiled, something about you was difference.

Jungkook looked down at his letter of quitting, and simply tore it down when saw your figure leave the cafeteria.

“I can’t believe this, you see one of the first years, and suddenly, you want to stay?” Jimin shouts and slams his fat book on the table, muttering curse words.

Intimidating the first years – ragging, as they called it – had always been Jungkook’s favourite thing to do. Every year he’d either make them do ridiculous tasks, like eating a living goldfish, or running around the block naked. However, this time, it was different.

He made sure he entered the class taught by the foreign professor, so he could sneak in a couple of threats without making too much of a scene in front of the directors. As he excused himself in the full class, he couldn’t help but be glad that he looked quite… intimidating today. Everyone was already, well, scared of him, but his leather jacket, motorbike, and bandages on his fingers (which are actually there because he hurt his fingers by writing too much – not from the constant fights that people think he’s immersed into), they just add to his picture.

“There’s a medical camp soon for freshmen, so I would like to make an announcement,” Jungkook smiles, but everyone can sense the chilly aura underneath that smile, “I would also like to speak in Korean, since they’re mostly fluent in it,”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon, you may continue,” the British Professor smiles back – she can’t deny him, he’s her co-worker now, after all.

“Listen to me carefully,” Jungkook lets his tongue poke his inner cheek, as he brushes back his – way too long – hair, “I’m not going to repeat this in English, and that dumbass shouldn’t get a clue of what I’m saying,” he says as he nods politely at the professor on the slightly lifted stage. Once he confirms that she can’t understand a word, he turns her back towards her, and walks across the class, staring at everyone with a predatory look in his dark eyes.

“There’s a new girl, freshman, she’s mine. Other than her, you can woo any girl you like, but if I even so catch anyone staring at her, let alone trying to get on those cute study dates, or pretending to be in the same hobbies as her,” he looks across the stadium, “you’ll end up in bandages. With a failing grade in my class.”

Jungkook can’t help but present a fake smile, “don’t look so scared, idiots, you don’t want her,” he nods off to the professor, “to think I’m saying something wrong,”

“Why does it sound like a threat?” A nameless teenager from the back speaks up, which makes Jungkook’s smile slide off faster than sound travels.

“I’m not threatening you. I’m warning you. Besides, don’t even try to outsmart me, don’t worry new girls come in every year, you’ll have your chances. Now don’t sulk, or look suspicious. Circulate this message around, I don’t have enough time to go to every single unit,” he scans everyone’s face again, making sure they digested his new given information.

Once he’s satisfied, he convert back to English, “Good luck with the camp, guys. Meet you in my class tomorrow,” and with one last threatening smile, he’s gone.

“What did he say? Why did it sound like a threat?” the teacher joked once Jungkook left, and the class couldn’t help but immediately deny the threatening tone. After all, no one wanted to face Jeon Jungkook’s wrath.

Your nervous jitters were still present, and you don’t want to admit, but you did tear up a little when you saw your parent’s car become smaller and smaller as it continued to drive down the road, till it finally is so far that you can’t even make it out with your eyes.

While most people had roommates of their own year, you were stuck with a sophomore and you didn’t exactly know whether that was a good thing, or a bad one. She had made very clear about what side of room was hers, and why it was hers, and how you’re not even allowed to get onto her side – and that did make you a little annoyed, because how could someone be so pretentious, but throughout the span of three days, the pretentious-ness was definitely wearing out. She’d cook dinner for you every day, because you didn’t have a rice cooker and she did (which, you really needed to invest in a rice cooker because you can pretty much cook anything in that fucker), and she was amazing at giving advice for every single teacher out there. You still had to get used to her high use of curse words, but it’s just what made her, her.

“Oh damn, you got the worst professors out there, bro you better goddamn pull your socks up, otherwise things aren’t gonna look pretty this semester,” you heard her chuckle, as she sits on her bed with one leg on top of the other.

“Why? Who’s so bad?”

Fucking hell. You already had had enough of bad teachers, it’s almost like you were cursed because your high school teachers were literally out to get you – but you guess it was a blessing in disguise because that just made you work even harder (just to spite them, hah), and you somehow ended up here, at SNU, one of the most prestigious colleges in Korea.

“It’s actually not all that bad, you got Mr. Lee for microbiology. He isn’t all that bad, but just don’t sit in the front row unless you want spit on your face every time he talks. I swear it’s like he had a motherfucking fountain in his mouth. Also, he loves it when you submit your papers with a perfect format, so do that whenever you give his weekly assignments,” She says, all while applying on a red blood coloured nail polish.

You study your schedule once again, “What about Mr. Kang?”

“No fucking absolute way! You got Mr. Kang? Bitch, seems like the universe is tryna fuck you over,” she says, and then mumbles a curse when some of the rid pigment ends up on her skin.

“Is he bad? Strict?” you can’t help but already be scared of the semester, and it hasn’t even started yet.

“He’s the most pretentious fucker you’ll ever meet, he just thinks he’s the best professor because he graduated from Oxford. Big woo, motherfucker. Half of his class fails pretty much, the only two people to walk out of his class with an A* grade were this kid named Baek-woo or something, and of course, Jeon Jungkook,”

Jeon Jungkook. You swear you’ve seen that name before. Oh wait, ohhh, he was your biochemistry professor.

“Jeon Jungkook? He’s also a professor?” you look at your perfectly squared schedule, and you have his classes thrice a week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

“You got him?”

“Yeah,”

“Don’t know if I should call you lucky or not, because I have no clue what he teaches like. All I know is he’s fucking crazy good at everything, and that he’s super-hot. Not that he’s really interested in any girls, also I personally think he’s mental or something,” your roommate had finally finished painting her feet, and was now letting them sway in the air, and dry.

She spent the next hour talking about Jungko- Professor Jeon was basically a murder, a thug, a gang member or whatever even. You just laughed at the thought of it all.

First day, and you’re more nervous than you intended to be. It wasn’t going well, at all. You had decided to look chic today, with your new (way too expensive) designer blazer, and your nude high heels, but here you were, sitting in the fourth row, wearing a red polka dress that made you look like a freshman. A high school freshman, not a college freshman.

You cursed yourself for buying a fake version of the nude heels (also, you could feel a tear forming in your eyes when you saw the heel broken, when you finally unpacked your belongings, but you sucked it right back in), you also wished your roommate was dead, because now you were sitting on your bed with a coffee stain on your blazer (no amounts of sorry could fix this disaster).

Also, you couldn’t help but notice an ungodly amount of stares thrown at you – not from hate, but just from sheer curiosity, and you were just so self-conscious because of it all, that you slipped from the last few stairs down the hostel causing your bare knees to get the nastiest scrape. Fuck, that’s going to hurt.

So when you finally settled in your Biochemistry class, you couldn’t help but well, be scared. There were rumours of Jeon Jungkook, your new teacher to be. Rumours that he used to be in a gang and dealt with drugs, and underground fights. There was a rumour that he once put a room to fire, killing almost 50 people. Also, that one time when he came to school with bandages on his hands – probably because he punched people to death, or hospitalizing them. There are rumours about him running over people on his motorcycle as well, and you can’t help but be extra conscious about this class, in fact you wouldn’t even have opt for it in the first place if you knew that Jeon Jungkook was the one teaching it. But, even since you’ve transferred, you’ve just told yourself that these were just rumours, and not everything is the truth.

Till now. He entered the class, probably not following the teacher’s dress code – you were pretty positive that leather jackets and ripped jeans weren’t exactly allowed, but he just looked so hot good, that you could let it slide. His stare lingered on you for quite a while, and you couldn’t help but fidget in your seat, avoiding eye contact.

“You, in the fourth row,”

You could see him pointing at you, but you just internally wished that it wasn’t actually, well you, that he was calling. Looking around, you see several other people in your row, maybe he was pointing towards the girl on your left that looked way more presentable than you. Or maybe it was the boy on your left with glasses way too big for his face.

“You, in the red polka dot dress, come here,” Professor Jeon looked at you, and smiled? Why would he smile when he looked at you?

(You also quickly dismissed the thought that he has the cutest bunny smile you’ve ever seen, where his eyes crinkle slightly, and his cheeks bunch up – because that’s just inappropriate, even though the age gap isn’t that big.)

He quickly examines your knees, and you swear you see a flash of surprise (and worry?), and before you can register what is going on, he kneels down in front of you, and clicks his tongue, as if wanting to scold you.

“Sit here, in the front row where I can see you,” he says, after a few seconds of inspecting your new injury, and as you adjust yourself, you can’t help but be uncomfortable from the gazes of your classmates that disappear as soon as Professor Jeon starts teaching. Getting into SNU was a nightmare, and you weren’t going to let yourself fail any classes, but instead of listening to what Jungkook was teaching – which but the way, he taught way better than any of the other staff there. But his stare. His stare was terrifying.

His aura was definitely dangerous, and red sirens were bursting in your head, telling you to keep your distance from him. His deathly stare seemed anything but inviting, and when the boy to your right asked you about the syllabus, you couldn’t help but shiver under Jungkook’s Professor Jeon’s glare. He spent the next ten minutes shouting at the poor boy, who looked as if he was about to faint any second now. Scary.

Ever since, you’ve been avoiding any contact with him, even purposely ignoring him when he asked you what happened to your knee. (You tell yourself that his sad puppy face doesn’t bother you but in reality, it breaks your heart, and every time you try to sleep, it haunts you. (You then remind yourself about the numerous rumours he’s into, and the last thing you want to get in between is drama and romance)).

The first time Jungkook heard your name was through Taehyung (no, he wasn’t jealous that Tae knew your name before him, but he couldn’t help but want to reverse back time, just so he could learn your name before Taehyung did. Why did Tae know your name before he did?), and your name was on his tongue the entire day. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, all he could think about was how your hair would feel when he would brush his fingers through it, how your hand would fit into his, how you would look in his oversized t-shirts. (Occasionally, he would also think how you would look, laying on his bed, underneath him – but the sheer thought of it gets him hot and bothered and what not, and he doesn't have the time to be fooling around, that too, with a student).

So when he saw you sitting with one hand on top of the other, in his class, he couldn’t help the smile when his eyes landed on you, you just looked so, so adorable in your little dress. The thought of you being away from him, just killed him inside so he had to ask you to sit in the front row, where he could look at you as much as he wants to, all while teaching his class. Of course, he saw red in his eyes when he saw your knees tainted with blood, and all he wanted was to wrap a bandage on it, he couldn’t bear to look at you, sitting in pain – but for once in his life, he was considerate and thought that you might not want the uninvited attention.

That consideration came to bite him in the ass, because you left before you could hear him, and as he saw you blend into the crowd, he couldn’t help but curse under his breath and want to punch the next person he sees.

There’s a lot that Jungkook changes throughout the first week of classes, he attaches a second seat to the end of his motorbike (because when you both start dating, he’ll have to take you around), and even cuts his long hair – in case you don’t like it, it could grow back anyways. He always has a packet of your favourite chocolate in the left pocket of his bag (no, he didn’t threaten the guy at the nearest 7/11 to tell him the candy you’ve been buying lately (he also denies the fact that he bought three plushies for you, that are currently sitting on his side table (the white rabbit with red cheeks reminds him a lot of you))). He can’t, but he tries to smoke way less, tries to buy less cigarettes, tries to chew gum instead, or drink more water. And he would never admit it, but he took a photo of your student profile, and set it as his wallpaper. Jimin and Taehyung exchange a couple of looks after discovering this fact, but don't say anything about it - none of their business, right?

Being an undergrad professor also has it’s perks, he can look at all your records, and well, currently, you’re failing Mr. Kang’s class – anatomy 101. Finally, a fucking excuse to talk to you, because the way you basically run after his class ends makes him think you’re avoiding him? But you wouldn’t do that to him… right?

Because of you, Jungkook has been rocking some Massive dark circles (with a capital M, because boy, they are blue and way too dark in comparison to his actual skin tone), the only reason being your existence and all he does is Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, while tossing in his bed at 3AM, thinking of how you smiled when he tried to crack a joke in the class, thinking of your pushing his fingers through your hair, thinking of how you fumbled with your thumbs before mumbling your answer to his sudden question.

“So, Y/N, what do you think out of all these,” he motions towards the options, “does not act as a restriction enzyme?”

He just wanted to coo over how your thumbs fought with each other, as you tried (key word, tried), to answer his really easy question. (It actually wasn’t even that easy, you were just too scared to get anything below a B in Professor Jeon’s class, so you ended up studying two chapters ahead of your syllabus – despite his fast pace). So, you knew the answer was Polydeoxtribonucleotide synthase, but for the love of god, you just couldn’t pronounce that word.

“It’s, uh, polydetr-,” you swear your breath was knocked out when he started walking towards you, oh God, why was he walking towards you?

“Yes, continue,” he smiles while standing, literally right in front of you. How does he expect you to answer when he’s looking at you as if you have all the answers of the universe. As if you were, I don’t know, Aphrodite or something.

“Uh, it’s the option D,”

“And that is?”

That motherfucker. He knew you couldn’t pronounce it.

“Polydo-“ you were positive that at this point you weren’t even breathing.

“Hey, just take a deep breath and try again,” He said, while taking your left hand in his own, and massaged it. You were positive everyone in the lab was looking at you, but their stares didn’t even compare to your hot teacher’s burning gaze.

“Poly-deo-,” you take a breath in,”x-tribo-nucleotide synthase,”

“That’s right, the answer is Polydeoxtribonucleotide synthase,” Jungkook says without having any trouble with the word, and before he gets away from you, he smiles in your direction, and says, “Good girl,”

You’re left to yourself wondering if this is a dream or if that just happened.

Jungkook’s day was going just terrible. His landlord had to be the cheapest bastard he knows, who just wouldn’t fix the water system, so for a week he was basically stuck with showering with ice cold water. On top of that, he was wearing a bruise on the left side of his face, it was all red and blue because last night he was too drunk to notice his book shelf that he installed last week.

He was supposed to be in the cafeteria right now, because at approximately 1:30 PM, your stupid microbiology class ended, and you headed straight to lunch after that, before your anatomy class. It had been, well give or take, around two weeks since the semester started, and he thought he would get over you soon, but you were just so goddamn adorable, and cute, and all Jungkook ever wanted was to squish your cheeks and press your body closer to his.

He finally reached the bustling cafeteria, ugh, he absolutely hated the noise there – so he never really ate there, preferring the quite café around the corner, but he knew you were on some sort of dumb student meal plan that only profits the university, and not actually you.

He’s expecting to find you sitting with your laptop (with a red smiley star sticker on the top right, which is just goddamn adorable (and no, that definitely isn’t the reason why Jungkook too, has a red smiley star sticker on his laptop now)). But you’re there, with some random ugly boy’s arm sprawled over your shoulder, as you giggle repeatedly at his bad jokes.

He sits on the table on your right and loudly slams his old anatomy book, before taking a seat. Here he was, all prepared with notes on what you were failing, all ready to teach you what you didn’t understand, spending all night making flashcards (he also ripped that one flashcard where on one side he wrote, “Will you go out with me?” and the other side blank, so you could write your response. He argues with himself that it wasn’t because he was shy or scared you’d say no – it was because it’s too cheesy).

His blood just boils when he sees you not removing – he finds out the boy’s name is Kim Seokjin – his ugly hand from your own, and just gets up and walks away after you giggle for the nth time on his not even funny jokes.

(Later that night, Jungkook tells himself he’s way better than that Seokjin bastard, even if Seokjin’s skin is flawless, and even if he has a handsome smile, and even if he can cook, and even if he can make you smile. Jungkook couldn’t have flawless hands because of all the callouses he has from writing too much, and his bruises might take a while to heal (he even puts an icepack on them now), and he could learn how to cook something other than instant noodles, and he could learn some jokes from the internet. He could be better than Seokjin, he would be better than anyone for you).

You love the feeling when things go perfect, and today was just so perfect. You fried an egg, all round a perfect circle and the yolk didn’t even break – which it always does when you flip it. Then, you sharpened a pencil and somehow the nib came out more than perfect, which made you all giggly and what not. Everyone in your friends circle at this point knew that you were the biggest hoe for cute stationery. Then, your anatomy class got cancelled and you were just so happy, and you even made a new friend today, Kim Seokjin.

You were a little uncomfortable when he smoothly glided his right arm over your shoulder, but he was just so funny, and he bought you the special menu items today – so you couldn’t even complain. After all, you really looked at him as a big brother because all he talked about was how his roommate was a complete asshole.

(“I told him to get me some water – which he should, because I’m older than him, and he should totally respect me,” he says, with an exaggerated and exasperated sigh.

“And he did what?”

“He brought a glass full of ice and told me to wait,”)

The one thing that you were, in fact really over thinking was about that one professor of yours. Jeon Jungkook. As you let the water cascade down your body in the tiny (really tiny) cubicle of the washroom that you shared with your roommate, Hye-jin.

“I noticed Kook looking at you in the cafeteria that day, y’know the whole campus is talking about it,”

“Uh, yeah, it’s kind of hard not to notice,”

“I’m guessing you don’t know about the whole speech he gave in that one class at the start of the semester?”

Jungkook doesn’t really believes in love at first sight, but after stalking you on social media, he knew he was a goner for you. (Especially after that one video of yours where you’re trying to pet a dog, but the dog runs away, and you end up pouting at the camera. (Yes, he screen recorded the video and watched it a billion times before sleeping)).

He has never had the urge to protect someone other than himself, and maybe his friends. But you, it was different with you – he doesn’t know if it was the small chub in your cheeks, or the way your ears would turn red when he would ask you something, or the way you would walk, or the way you slapped your thigh when you laughed, or the aroma of your citrus shampoo when you would walk past him, or your habit of getting coming down to the convenience store to grab ramen every Thursday night at 10 PM.

He doesn’t know it, but he knows he’s meant to love you, meant to keep you in his life, meant to be yours, and meant to make you his.

He has endured, yet another week where he hasn’t talked to you – and not gonna lie, it’s actually driving him crazy. Every day he sees you talking to Seokjin and laughing with others, while he sits and does nothing other than gawk at you.

During class, while he did occasionally glance your way, he still has 73 students to teach, and this being his first year as a teacher, he can’t afford any sort of mishaps at all.

But every man on this Earth has their limits. And Jungkook’s limit was watching Seokjin kiss your cheek. While you did (playfully) punch him on the shoulder, and you did shout out ‘Gross!’, Jungkook was sure that you definitely didn’t mean that punch, and you definitely didn’t think he was gross.

Did you think that Jungkook was gross? Why didn’t you ever visit him during office hours? Because every single girl in his class was sure to meet him for some dumb question, or to ask for extra credit. But you didn’t. Did you like Seokjin? Did you like someone else?

The next time he sees you is on Friday, during his class and he just knows, he knows he can’t go through today without talking to you, and the only way to do that is to-

“Y/N, could you stay after class, please?” he says, without even giving you a glance.

You mutter a silent yes, and keep your head down for the rest of the class, trying your best to ignore the mumbles of the class, talking about you and why you get to be treated different from others.

“You wanted to talk to me?” you say as you walk around the long table, running your fingers along the marble shelf.

“Do you wanna go out with me?”

What. What the heck?

You chuckle, thinking it’s some sort of sick prank he’s playing, you wait for him to say ‘Sike!’ but it never comes. Then you think that maybe, just maybe he does actually want to take you out? No. No way, he probably just wants to get alone with you in an alley, where he would kill you – or even worse, sell you off.

“No, thank you. If that’s all, am I allowed to go?” you say all this, in the smallest, most polite voice possible, after all the last thing you wanted was to piss off your professor. (who might be in a gang, who knows at this point?)

“What? Why?” he says, almost panicked, and you hear a shuffle of items as he makes his way to you, trying to watch you before you leave again. He sees your face morphed into an expression of extreme boredom. Fuck, he had to do something, quick.

“Not to be rude, but Professor, I just don’t think it’s right – or even allowed for us to date,” you say, trying your best not to look at him, shuffling your bag on your shoulder, because fuck, he looked so sad – his eyes almost looked glassy, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You don’t have to date Professor Jeon, you can just date me as the graduate student here. I’m, still a student here, Y/N,”

“And? You’re also like four years older than me,”

“Three years,” he says, pouting. Ugh, he’s so cute.

“That doesn’t make it any better,”

“It doesn’t?” he sighs.

“No, I’m still your student, and you’re still my teacher,”

“Tell me, Y/N, did you take chemistry in high school?” he asks, while quickly walking to the back and mixing some chemicals that he definitely wasn’t supposed to touch without gloves on.

“Yes, why?”

“Well, I’m currently holding, uh it’s either Acetonitrile or Iodine mixed with Vitamin C,” he says, and you can see both the liquids, which he mixes together without a worry in the world.

“And? Professor Jeon, what are you going to do?” you walk over to him, slower than ever, taking one step at a time.

‘Please, call me Jungkook. Or Kook, if you feel like it,” he gives you one of his signature smiles, that you should be used to by now – but you just get flustered every time.

“Now, will you go out with me?” he asks again, this time in a much more hopeful tone.

“No,” you say, drawing out the ‘o’, when will get the clue?

“Fine, I guess I’ll just drink this,” he looks at the two glass beakers in his hands, and pours the both of them into a much bigger glass container, “and die,”

You scoff, thinking he’s bluffing, “Yeah, yeah, go on,”

Of course, he’s bluffing because there is no absolute way that he’ll be mad enough to drink goddamn Acetonitrile, unless he wants his cardiovascular system, central nervous system, liver and kidneys to, I don’t know, stop working.

“I’ll ask this again, Y/N, just one date, will you go out with me?” he says, while picking up the glass container, closer to his face, and you actually want to play this game till the end. No way is he going to drink this.

“No,”

“Okay then,” he puts his lips on the container, and by now, you’ve actually started to get a bit scared. What if he does it? What if this crazy idiot actually drinks the fatal formula?

And then it happens. He drinks it. He fucking drinks it.

“What the fuck? Jungkook!”

“I’ll ask you again, will you go out with me?” he says after taking the biggest gulp ever. Is this his way of attempting suicide?

“Yes! Yes, oh god, I’ll go out with you!”

“Don’t say it like you’re doing me a favour,” he says, attempting to take another sip of the deadly liquid.

“No! I- Can you stop doing that? Stop drinking it! I’ll go out with you. In fact, I want to go out with you! Really!” you shout, trying to take the container away from him, scared shitless.

“Fuck, do I call 911?” you say, as you attempt to take your phone out of your 110 pound heavy bag. Then you hear him chuckle and throw away the remaining odourless, colourless solution.

“Relax, it was just water, I was just trying to scare you, but hey! You’ve agreed to a date with me, so it’s a win-win isn’t it?” Jungkook smiles sloppily, perching his elbow up on the table and letting his chin rest in his palm.

You can’t believe him. You really can’t.

You pretend to pick something up from the floor, “Professor, it seems you dropped something on the floor,”

“What?” he tries to look at your hand, to see what’s there, and just as you get his attention, you smack him across the face.

“Your common sense, you moron! What the hell were you thinking? Even if that was water, this could have traces of some really harmful chemicals and you ought to know better because you’re a goddamn teacher how could you be so careless you could have actually died-”

“But I didn’t, and now you’re going out with me,”

You can’t help the smile that creeps on your face, as your eyes glass up. You really had thought that he was going to die, or at the very least – harm himself severely.

“You’re so dumb, Jeon,” you say as you punch him, trying to suck your tears right back in – but they weren’t co-operating at all, and you let them fall down across your cheeks, causing Jungkook’s, breath to hitch up as soon as he sees them.

“Wait, wait, wait, are you crying? No, please don’t cry! Oh no, oh, I didn’t mean to… I was trying to make you laugh…” Jungkook says as his heart runs at 850 BMP a minute, trying to caress your face, trying to stop the tears from filling your eyes.

“What kind of sick-o would laugh at their professor dying? Are you mental?” you choke out, while trying your god-darn best to stop crying, because he was very much alive and right in front of you.

“I’m sorry, oh god, what should I do? What do girls like?” Jungkook was absolutely mortified. The first time he has ever talked to you – and he manages to make you cry. He totally royally fucked up. Big time.

He almost googled, ‘how to stop girl from crying’ and reading the wiki-how page, but decided against it, and hugged you – because that’s what his therapist told him to do when he hurts his loved ones. He would never – it wasn’t in him to physically ever hurt you. He couldn’t even bear the thought of that ever, and so when he did hug you, your sobbing decreased by a lot, and he felt much much better. Also, after holding you in his embrace, he realized how much he needed you to be next to him – to say Jungkook was touch starved is an extreme understatement, he loved the way he could you fit under him, the way your hair had a citrusy aroma, the way your arms hugged him back, it was comfortable. And Jungkook was positive that he could stay like this forever – if needed to.

You didn’t realize when he hugged you, but when he did, you were finally over the shock of thinking your crazy, dumb and hot professor had actually had some water instead of some deadly chemicals – and you weren’t the cause of his death. You wanted to hate him, but how could you? How could you just judge him upon some rumours that were just there to fit in the pieces of his live that he wouldn’t let other people know?

“I- I have a faculty meeting in five minutes,” you hear him speak, the vibration passing through his body – shaking you with it.

You clear your throat before letting go, and can’t help but feel the embarrassment rise out of you, in the form of red cheeks. You keep your head down, as he walks out the door of the lab, leaving you behind – but right before he leaves, he reminds you of your current situation, “Can’t wait for our date, sweets!”

Asshole.

From Unknown Number

[1:38 AM]

Y/N-ieeee

r u sleeping

this is kook btw

To Prof JK

[1:40 AM]

how did u get my num??????

also do u not THINK before assigning all this hw :(

From Prof JK

[1:41 AM]

u should be sleeping rn bby

all i assigned was some reading???? and some worksheets????

is it too much????

im so sry

To Prof JK

[1:50 AM]

well i do have a life outside of hw yknow

also im a huge procrastinator lmao

From Prof JK

[1:51 AM]

:( why r u taking so long to reply

r u busy

r u sleepy

also what life???? i’ve only ever seen u either at the library or the internet café down the street

whats my name saved in ur conatcts ;)))))

i saved urs as princess <3

To Prof JK

[1:54 AM]

it’s prof jk

From Prof JK

[1:55 AM]

thats boring :( im ur future bf now

also wanted to remind u the date is tomo so be ready

You don’t think before you change his name to Kook ‘Jungkook’.

To Jungkook

[1:57 AM]

oh yea how could i forget the fact that u tried to fake poison urself

also what?? date???

From Jungkook

[1:58 AM]

first of all, im so sry abt that i’ll buy u ur fav chocos

second of all, BRO

U LITERALLY SWORE U WOULD GO ON A DATE WIT ME

U PROMISED ME

To Jungkook

[2:01 AM]

i guess i changed my mind lololol

From Jungkook

[2:02 AM]

y????

look i know its weird some nuts prof asks u to go on a date with him

i know u don’t know me

but i know me

and i know i would do anything 4 u

i’ll be anything u want me to be

i can be smart

i can be funny too

i can try to cook for u maybe???? some pasta???

i could dance 4 u?????

To Jungkook

[2:06 AM]

dance????

no offense prof, but u seem so stiff

no way u can dance

From Jungkook

[2:08 AM]

is that a challenge…???

just tell me what u want and i’ll be that for u

To Jungkook

[2:09 AM]

u r dumb

From Jungkook

[2:10 AM]

i could be that

if u want me to be

come on, just ONE date i promise i’ll leave u alone after that if u don’t like it

To Jungkook

[2:13 AM]

mm… sis i guess u should start to figure something out then

bcz this aint good enough

see ya

From Jungkook

[2:14 AM]

ugh i cant force but :( pls?

istg itll be the best day of ur life

To Jungkook

[2:15 AM]

yea ok whatever u say im not going anywhere with u

night

From Jungkook

[2:16 AM]

goodnight!!!!!!

Don’t think too mucb about me

much*

To Jungkook

[2:18 AM]

In ur dreams

From Jungkook

[2:32 AM]

oh u do come in my dreams ;))

✓ Seen by princess <3

The next couple of days, you get some… gifts from a not so secret admirer. And you definitely didn’t change him name from ‘Prof Jeon’, to ‘Jungkook,’ to ‘Jungkookie <3’ in the span of 11 days. (And you most definitely didn’t feel giddy from inside every time you received a notification that read, ‘One New Message from Jungkookie <3’.

“You’re not very subtle, Professor Jeon,” you stay around after his class, watching him put away his books in is leather back. You can tell he was surprised by your action of staying back, but you had to put a stop to what was happening.

The next morning after he texted you for the first time, you had a Huge – with a capital H – bouquet of red roses, and you’ll admit you teared up a bit after looking at it, after all it was your first time receiving flowers from a boy (or man? (a man that was actual eye candy, but you’ll never admit that)).

Two days later,

From Jungkookie <3

[1:53 AM]

look outside

To Jungkookie <3

[1:54 AM]

dont tell me u r outside dumbass its like 2am

Lo and behold, Jungkook’s standing in the middle of the road, holding a single red rose and smiling. There’s a stark difference between his current self, and his demeanour during class – now the moonlight hits his unmade fluffy hair and cheeks, making him look years younger than he is. You can’t help but shout, ‘You idiot! You’ll catch a cold!’ while probably waking up several angry sleep deprived students in the process, but you can’t help but laugh at the way he dances for you. On this cold, lonely night, he brought you the warmth you didn’t know you needed.

It seemed that after that, Jungkook and you were the talk of the town, people would wait for both of you to get together, place bets on when you would finally say yes to him. On the other hand, you received candies from him, you had access to the teacher’s lounge coffee (which was honestly a huge plus point, now you could save five dollars on watery coffee, and have some actual caffeine), and he had pre-paid the 7/11 dude $500 in cash, so he wouldn’t even accept your payments now. The one thing that you actually appreciated him the most for was that he made you flashcards for Mr. Kang’s class (which you were failing, real bad), and while it wasn’t much, you still bumped you ‘F’ to a ‘D’, that just remained the highlight of your goddamn month.

To Jungkookie <3

[2:08 PM]

JUST GOT MY TEST BACK AND GUESS WHAT BITCH

From Jungkookie <3

[2:09 PM]

hi baby girl

:( i’ve noticed u r cursing a lot nowadays

To Jungkookie <3

[2:11 PM]

i’ve noticed u calling me baby lately but u don't see me whining so stfu

ALSO I DIDN’T FAIL

i mean i still kinda failed but it’s not a F

From Jungkookie <3

[2:13 PM]

im so proud of u, u r so so so smart

:( i wonder if u would let me teach u maybe???? tutor u???

✓ Seen 2:15 PM by princess <3

One of his much, much grander displays of affections was, well, kind of weird, he bought you a penguin. You were a proud, and extremely happy mother of a cute penguin named Otis.

From Jungkook <3

[9:07 AM]

ok but what would u want as a pet

To Jungkook <3

[10:38 AM]

penguin!!!!

You knew it must’ve cost him a fortune, and his job as a professor must not be enough, but you had always dreamed of being able to hold the certificate of your baby, and be able to monitor it, and be able to be the one to feed it (well, not literally). And he had to pay for his own grad school fees, which must be a total nightmare on its own – here you were, in his class, waiting for him to pack up so you could maybe pay him back a little?

By no means could you afford a $3000 penguin, but you could maybe ask him if there’s something you could do?

“So, Prof, how would you like me to re-pay you?” you honestly half expected a sex joke on his part – maybe because he looks like a fuckboy on steroids and snorts a lot of protein powder before hitting the gym.

“Um, maybe a hug?”

Oh. Ohhhh. Oh. Unexpected. Okay. Calm yourself down.

“A hug?” you tried not to look at his face, because you knew if you did, it would be hard, way too hard to be able to resist him. You knew he was all dangerous, and bad boy and what not – but, this man, the one with the bunny smile and the fluffy hair, and the one who smelled more like freshly baked bread rather than the axe cologne spray you had imagine, he wasn’t a gang member or a delinquent. He was simply asking for love.

“Why a hug?”

“Just… never really hugged anyone properly,” Jungkook knew he wasn’t asking for much. He could’ve asked for a date, or a kiss, or just anything, but all he wanted was to hold you.

It had been a hard week for him. Being a grad student wasn’t easy no matter how many hours of study you pull in, and no matter how much knowledge you attained – while he was way better off than his peers – he knew he couldn’t afford the failure – he was just starting to feel less and less like a human, and more like a robot. Also, it wasn’t easy to be an undergraduate professor – in fact, it was fucking hell. Your peers, and the entire fucking batch was just so hopelessly dumb – he doesn’t want to admit but he even cringes at some of the mistakes you made (who mixes up chemicals! They’re the most difficult to mess up!) and he hated it when he would just have to give you a ‘C,’ instead of the ‘A,’ you actually deserved (because you’re so smart and he can see it! But you’re also so stubborn, sigh).

Lately, it seems like without his therapist, life just seemed more difficult. When he looks at the broken pencils, the pieces of wood sitting on his table, the teared up paper, and the headache he was constantly in – he’s taken back to the 12 year old Jungkook who couldn’t control his hands, who did nothing but hurt those around him. He looks at his hands, he hates them, they hurt people without his permission.

Sometimes, he would cry, because why couldn’t he simply control himself? Why did his anger, the red in his eyes, the strength of his arm always win over his subconscious and ability to think correct? Why couldn’t he simply re-do a question he got wrong instead of breaking pencils and tearing up everything apart? Why were there numerous holes in the wall covered by posters? Why did this animalistic rage always win over him? Why him?

Jungkook spends the night dreaming of actually being able to help patients, and operating instead of simply… being useless.

So, in that moment, he just wanted comfort. Simple as that. He doesn’t recall anyone ever hugging him in his life, maybe half sided hugs from coaches and professor, or the ones that Tae forces onto him, but other than that, Jungkook has never had an interest in physical contact with people – always thinking it was way showing vulnerability, but with you, he just wanted to be normal.

He didn’t want you to know him as the weird, crazy idiot with anger management issues, or the druggie who smokes weed 24/7, he just wanted you to know him as the real Jungkook he is. The real Jungkook who has iron man socks, and has a fear of microwaves.

So when you do hug him, and feel his arms by your side, and you can’t help but want to stay this way. Surprisingly, it isn’t you who breaks the hug, and you actually want more of it, more of that soft feel of his black shirt against your cheek, more of his hard arms closing you in, more of his warmth.

You clear your throat, and… you don’t know what to do.

“So, um, thanks y’know f-for Otis. You really didn’t have to, I mean I appreciate it I really do, it was more than anything anyone’s every done for me y’know? So like, um, yeah, I uh-“ you mentally curse yourself, just stop speaking already.

“You named it Otis? That’s such a basic penguin name,” Jungkook chuckles, hoping to make you even slightly mad, and the fact that you looked at him with an expression of shock and anger just added to his satisfaction.

Just like that, the awkward layer in the air no longer lingers, and settles to soft banter, something you enjoyed.

“Excuse me? It’s like, the cutest name ever, and whoever thinks against that is a total meathe-“

“I’ve never seen someone be angry and look adorable at the same time,”

“Well, mama didn’t raise no bitch, I will adorably kick your ass, Jungkook,”

“On a first name basis now? Guess I’m making progress,”

“I hate you so much,”

And now twelve minutes and seventeen seconds later, here you both were, sitting on the bench outside the local 7/11, sharing an egg and ham sandwich.

By no means did Jungkook ever mean to have his first lunch with you like this, he had planned it all out, first date, 100 day anniversary, his first ‘I love you,’ speech, the gift for your birthday in January – he didn’t expect to sit on the side of the road at the old, rusty (and really uncomfortable) bench, eating a one dollar sandwich.

You make fun of Jungkook after his high five got rejected by a passing by 5 year old-ish kid with his mom.

“He hates me,” Jungkook pouts and looks at his left hand with such sorrow and anguish that you can’t help but let the laughter bubbling in your throat let out.

“He was like 5,”

“Still, he totally ignored me as if I didn’t exist,”

You don’t even realise three hours pass by, as both, you and Jungkook (two nerds united together), talk about politics, how absolutely terrible Mr. Kang is (you laughed for three solid minutes after Jungkook tried to mimic his sneer), he basically forces you to let him tutor you in anatomy, because he just can’t see you not get an A next time (you scoff and act as if you’re doing him a favour by saying yes, while from inside you screaming happily only because now your grades will be much, much higher – you’re definitely not happy because you’ll have to spend more time with the funny, cute, really nice and just overall hot guy that smells so good).

“Oh my God,” Jungkook says as he extends an arm and feels the light rain on his palm, “it’s probably going to rain soon,”

You don’t pay too much heed until 5 minutes later, it’s turns into an intense round of teardrops on the concrete under you, and you’re left to whine about how you’ll walk till your dorm – and there was no way you were going to get a taxi because you literally lived two streets away from the store.

“Let’s dance in the rain,” Jungkook runs into the narrow street, without a care in the world, and you’re left contemplating whether you should join him or not.

“I thought you were sort of mental, but now I’m fully sure your mom dropped you on the head when you were a baby,” you shout from the bench, hoping he can hear your voice despite the loud splat of each raindrop when it meets the ground.

“Join me,” he says as he tries to pull your hand lightly, hoping you would come on your own, and while you haven’t had fun in the rain since you were a child, you can’t help but want to relive the feeling of the cold water hitting you, not knowing where you end up at.

Jungkook ends up leading you, and you both end up doing a sloppy couple’s dance with his hands on your waist, and yours on his shoulders. You look into his eyes and see a childish charm, you see an affection and a purity in his smile, in the cute not so perfect teeth he possessed, and you can’t help but smile. You had never had things come to you, you were never used to this, never used you things happening to you, for you.

After a good fifteen minutes of fooling around, he ends up walking you back to the dorm – both of you a mess, with clothes clinging to your bodies, webbed fingers, wet hair and sore cheeks from smiling too much. Somehow, you didn’t want to be apart from the boy who waved you goodbye, and you don’t end up closing the door until he goes down the stairs and you can’t see his figure anymore.

To Jungkookie <3

[6:17 PM]

im gonna have to use an entire tub of conditioner to make my hair not feel like hay

PART TWO WILL COME OUT SOON XO (there will only be 3 parts).

also, just so everyone knows I absolutely adore jin, no bashing towards him, as once @kpopyandere said, and I quote: For real the closest I’ve ever been to believing in god is seeing Kim seokjin’s face. Only something divine could’ve created that.

I absolutely loved writing this even though it seems like it’s all over the place kind of lol. Been super insecure of my writing lately 🥺❤️ give me validation 🤩 jk but do let me know if you liked something or if u liked something in particular or idk also lmao sry there's no smut ;))))) wait for part two

taglist: @blkjmn @patpus @vantedollz @letmebeyour-sun @zeharilisharaban @hpnjrph @livewittykid @yzkyzkuniverse @nochuactivate @international-kpopfan @gvksp4ce @girlontheblock @kisskoos @jeonkooksgirl @hytibm @jooniescupcakes @teresaisla @lurkerarmy

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts reader insert #bts preference #jungkook scenario #jungkook reaction #jungkook fluff

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songbirdsingingthings · 4 years

Text

Chapter Seven - A Pretty Little Ribbon

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter ~ Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Word Count: 2.5K

“I’m telling you Y/N, you’ve got such a glow to you!” Mei exclaims, dangling different colored ribbons next to your dress to see which would match better.

“Mei, that is what people say in regards to pregnant women.” You explain, playfully glaring at her. You were currently dressed in your undergarments and sat in your vanity chair, waiting for Mei to finalize every detail of your outfit.

“Well then, you’re brimming with excitement. And because of that,” she says, picking up your dress and the ribbon she decided on, “I know you aren’t going to be accompanied by Lord Iida.” You freeze up a bit at her words. Was I really so miserable when I was with him? You thought. You thawed, though, when Mei placed a caring hand on your shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Y/N. Your heart was just ensnared by someone else, not letting your feelings budge. It’s a marvel when that happens to a young lady.” You nodded and gave her a smile through your mirror as she began to fiddle with the buttons on your dress.

“That’s a lovely choice, Mei. The design is quite unique, do you know where it’s from?” Mei’s simple smile turned into more of a mischievous one.

“It was a gift. Lovely color, isn’t it?” It’s then when you put the pieces together. The dress was an ivory color and had a beautiful lace overlay, but what caught your eyes was the waterlily yellow ribbon that was tied around the empire waist. Shouto. Not long ago, you remember yourself telling him he would never see you in yellow again. How cheeky of him to have sent along that dress, but it made you admire him a little more. Finally, you were seeing the smart and cunning side of the duke’s son.

“Indeed,” you confirm, letting Mei help you into the dress. She fasents the small buttons quickly and then moves onto your hair.

“I think a ponytail will do nicely with this dress,” Mei decides, bringing your ornate brush to your hair and untangling it. “The ribbon is wide enough so that it will look lovely.” You let Mei twist your hair in whichever way she pleases. In the end, it always looks good. As she’s tugging the ribbon into place, you glance out the window to see the sun shining rather harshly.

“I ought to bring a parasol with me today.” You say absentmindedly.

“Want to borrow mine?” A sweet voice filters its way into your room, making you turn around to face your door. Ochaco is standing right outside your door, a cheery smile on her face.

“Ochaco, how lovely to see you!” You greet, standing up and making your way over to your future sister-in-law. “What brings you here? Please don’t tell me Izuku is still holed up in that office making you wait.” You worry.

“Oh no, nothing of the sort!” She assures you, easing your mind. “He’s actually about to be on a break right now, so we were going to have tea.”

“That’s good to hear. How have preparations been going regarding your wedding?” You wonder, letting Mei hand your lace gloves and clasp a dainty necklace along your neck.

“Everything’s almost finalized! It should be safe to say that the date shall be set for the end of the month. The both of you squeal in excitement.

“How wonderful! I’m so excited for the both of you, truly. It will be a dream to finally have a sister.” You and Ochaco share an eager grin.

“Y/N, I hate to interrupt both you and Lady Uraraka, but the time might be getting away from us.” Mei warns.

“Right,” you say sprucely, reaching to your side to grab your little hand purse. “Ochaco, I would love to accept your offer.”

The sun was beating down rather cruelly, and even through the shade of Ochaco’s parasol, the heat was still getting to you. You prayed that you wouldn’t sweat and if you did, you hoped that the lemony smelling perfume would be enough to drown it out. All around you, picnic blankets and canopy shades were set up with mothers sat beneath them conversing about the latest gossip while children were running around flying kites and playing ball. How far you have come from those carefree days.

“Y/N.” A soft and deep voice roused you from your thoughts, causing you to turn around and look for the speaker. Dressed in a smart-looking navy tailcoat, white breeches, and a soft cream-colored collared shirt, Shouto looked incredibly handsome. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long, the heat is absolutely blistering today.” He says, striding next to you and offering up his arm. You take it gladly, and the two of you begin to walk around the park.

“Not at all, I only just recently arrived.” You reassured him, offering a smile. He nods in return and the two of you settle into a silence, taking in the beauty of the day while also indulging in the little shade that the parasol gave off. It only took a few minutes for the temperature to rise even higher. Even with all of the tea and water you drank this morning in order to calm your nerves, your mouth was now undoubtedly parched. Shouto, too, seemed a bit too warm for his own taste. It was subtle, but you could hear him breathing a bit harder than normal.

“Would it interest you in going into town for a bit? I’ve heard there are some new outlets there,” Shouto suggests. The shopping district of town was certainly an attractive option to you at this point. Due to the tall buildings, the roads were usually cast in the shade and the stores were always fun to browse in.

“That sounds wonderful!” You agree, unconsciously tightening your grip on his arm out of excitement. His heterochromatic eyes seem to light up at your enthusiasm and immediately takes you to his horse-drawn carriage, letting you hop in as he tells his coachman the directions. You quite enjoyed the little ride, relaxing into the plush cushions of the carriage and making small talk with Shouto. You had a family carriage yourself, most young women of your status did, but like everything else, Shouto’s was just one step above.

“How is your brother? I hope he’s not overexerting himself by covering for your father’s duties.” Shouto asks, a slight worry laced in his tone.

“Oh, Izuku’s doing just fabulously with this whole predicament.” You reassure him, your smile showing how grateful you were for his concern. “I knew he would have to take over Father’s business and making sure that the family’s checkbook lined up correctly someday, but he’s doing very well.” Shouto smiles and leans back a bit in his seat.

“That’s wonderful to hear.” You think back to that night when him, Lord Bakugou, Lord Kirishima, and Lord Iida came over to your home in the early morning to help your brother adjust. After all, it was just the night before. Then, it dawned on you how you never apologized for your actions towards the very man sitting across from you.

“I really should have told you this sooner, but Shouto, I am so sor-” You are paused by the raise of his hand.

“Y/N, you have no reason to apologize to me.” He says sincerely, reaching forward to take your hands in his. “You did everything correctly. And while yes, your words did invoke some more than melancholy feelings within my heart, it was my fault that they were urged to be spoken in the first place.” His words are firmly put.

“Okay,” you agree, your cheeks a bit more flushed than normal.

“We’ve arrived, your grace,” Shouto’s coachman says from outside the carriage. Much to your chagrin, you unconsciously squeal with excitement as the door opens, causing laughter to escape from Shouto’s mouth.

“Shall we?” He asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“We shall!”

“So, where would you like to go first?” Shouto asks as the two of you wind your way down the busy road, peering into the windows of stores. A little boutique caught your eye immediately.

“Ooo, that place looks just lovely!” You say, pulling him a little bit towards it. As the two of you entered the store, your eyes lit up. It might be a stereotype that women of your age were obsessed with fashion, but you didn’t really care. The dresses, accessories, ribbons, and hats that were displayed along the store walls and on the store floor were just to die for. And, like a bee in a flower field, you dotted around to look at all of them, Shouto in toe. You let your finger trail along a beautiful, baby pink lace ribbon.

“Would you like it?” Shouto asked, his voice lowered due to the privacy of the two of you and out of respect for the rest of the patrons in the store. You feel your heartbeat speed up as you felt his breath on your ear.

“It certainly is beautiful, but I left my billfold at my home.” You say, letting the ribbon slip from your fingers and swing back to its spot. “I’ll just come back a bit later in the week to purchase it.” You say, smiling and moving on to the next display to peer down at the fabrics. Unknown to you, Shouto takes the ribbon and hands it two a store worker beside him. He whispers a few words to the worker before following dutilly behind you as you ogled some hair combs. You came across a quite obnoxious looking one, the little silver comb absolutely covered with huge fake pearls and enormous enameled flowers. You put your hand over your mouth slightly to prevent the giggles that would’ve escaped otherwise.

“Y/N?” Shouto asked, causing you to snicker. Shouto’s eyebrows rose, a surprised but happy look on his face. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just,” you whisper-laugh, covering your mouth with both of your gloved hands now. “This comb is simply outrageous.” Shouto’s gaze follows yours to the comb in question. As soon as he takes it all in, he too has to stifle his laughter.

“It is quite ridiculous,” he agreed, chuckling. From beside you, a helper was shooting you a less than enthused look, so you patted Shouto’s shoulder.

“Alright, I think we might’ve overstayed our welcome.” You murmur to him, earning a quick nod.

“I will be right behind you, I just need a moment longer.” He says, earning a raised eyebrow but nothing more as you smiled and exited. You only had to wait but a moment until Shouto exited the store, letting the door swing back and jingle as he held a small parcel.

“Oh, I didn’t know you wanted to purchase something! I would’ve waited for you,” You frowned, looking between him and his purchased item.

“Think nothing of it. Come, let me treat you to some cream ice. I’ve heard the flavors over in that parlor are the sweetest.” He says, letting you take his arm again and heading straight towards the little frozen desserts shop. The aroma lifted your already high spirits as you took a whiff, sighing happily against Shouto.

“Your Grace! What a pleasure to be serving you on this fine day. Shall I find a more private table for you and your lady?” You felt your whole body heat up. While yes, your intentions with Shouto and how you would like to further your future with him were clear to you, this was the first time anyone has referred to you as the young lady Shouto was courting. And it felt magnificent.

“That will do nicely, thank you,” Shouto says politely, letting the server lead the both of you to a shaded outdoor setting, only one table and two chairs occupying it. Shouto, ever the gentlemen, pulled your chair out for you letting you take a seat first before tucking you in, and then sitting himself down in the chair across from you.

“What will you and your lady partake in today sir?” The server asks, an over-enthusiastic smile on his face.

“I would like something with fruit, strawberry perhaps?” He asks as the server jots down his words dutifully.

“And what will your lady have?” He asked, still looking at Shouto. The red-and-white haired man looked in between you and the waiter.

“Well, you would have to ask the young Lady herself. Since she is the daughter of a Lord, I am sure she is perfectly capable of ordering ice cream. The smile on your face was now as wide as ever as the flustered waiter looked to you, your eyes locked with Shouto’s as he sprouted a smirk. If being gentlemanly wasn’t enough, he wasn’t overbearing either.

“I would prefer a Y/F/F flavor, if that is possible?” You asked in a saccharine sweet voice, your face painted as innocent as a lamb.

“Y-yes my Lady.” The waiter says, bowing to the both of you and quickly making his way out of the area. Now yours and Shouto’s laughter was perfectly audible.

“Thank you, Shouto. That was both eloquent and perfectly strict.” You compliment, reaching for the glass of water placed at your side.

“Well, no one should speak to a Lady like that in any way, especially you.” He says. “Oh, and before I forget,” he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out the parcel, sliding it in front of you.

“For me?” You asked in surprise, you finger trailing around the twine that was keeping the little parcel wrapped.

“Indeed.” A giddy smile takes over your face as you carefully unwrap the parcel, letting the paper fall to the side revealing the ribbon that you were so interested in earlier.

“Oh, Shouto…” you breathe, lifting the baby pink lace ribbon. “You really didn’t have to-”

“I did.” He interjects, his voice steady. “And I expect you to get used to it. Before long you will be showering in a mountain of gifts and affections from me.” He says playfully, earning an eager look from you. Taking advantage of the moment, you reach up into your hair and let the ribbon you were currently wearing unravel, letting your hair curl around your shoulders. Quickly, you tie it back up with the ribbon Shouto got you, letting a pleased smile spread across his cheeks. “You look absolutely radiant.”

“It must be the dress color. I think it looks well on me, does it not?” You say cheekily, earning a chuckle from Shouto.

“You truly do wonders with yellow.”

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bonnyskies · 4 years

Text

stress reliever ⇢ jjk

after failing your first semester of college, you find yourself at a nearby bar, drinking your problems away with a complete stranger. a very attractive stranger. and after consuming so many drinks, you were expecting nothing more than a hangover the next day. what you didn’t expect though, was the same exact stranger laying beside you the next morning—completely bare, or your parents suddenly showing up at your apartment the same day, unannounced.

pairing — tattooed!jungkook x student!malereader

genre — fluff, sexual themes, non idol au

warnings — swearing, alcohol and drug use, implications of sex, mentions of strict parents, slight age gap

word count — 1.9k

masterlist

You couldn’t believe it. After many months of attending tutoring sessions, spending late nights on homework and projects, and mansions worth of money spent on classes. You come to find out that you failed your first semester of college. That meant having to retake the same exact classes you failed again.

You didn’t know long you’ve been walking—trying to ease your stressed mind—or how you ended up at some rundown bar, but next thing you knew you found yourself sitting at the dirty counter with a half-filled glass of water in your hand. The scent of cigarettes and many different alcoholic beverages filling your nostrils.

The sound of heavy-metal music blasting in the background created migraines inside your head, forcing you to shut your eyes from the extreme discomfort.

“This doesn’t seem like your kind of place, kid.” The sudden comment causes you to turn towards the source of the voice, your eyes landing on a very attractive stranger sitting a couple seats away from you, a lit cigarette in one hand and a shot glass in the other. “You don’t look old enough to even be in here.”

You rolled your eyes at the stranger before snapping, “How about you focus on your drink and I’ll focus on mine, okay? Okay.”

“And who are you calling kid?” You continued, shifting in your seat to where you were fully facing him now. “You don’t look that much older than me,” you added, finishing your cup of water and slamming the empty glass onto the counter.

The stranger only laughed, taking his shot of alcohol with complete ease. “Jungkook,” he then reached over and held his hand out, which you stared at hesitantly before shaking it and answering, “{Name}.”

“So, {Name}...,” the stranger—Jungkook starts, his lips curling up into a teasing smirk, placing his lit cigarette onto the ashtray and turning to fully face you, as you were too him. “What is a person like you doing in a filthy bar like this? This place doesn’t exactly fit you,” he points out, glancing down at the simple choice of clothes you were wearing. Which consisted of a pair of skinny jeans and long-sleeve shirt.

“I just wanted a drink,” you only said, raising your empty glass towards him and giving him a sarcastic smile.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Jungkook instantly replied, shaking his head. “Judging by how angrily you were drinking your...water,” he smirks, “There’s something wrong.” When you didn’t say anything, he continued. “Come on, tell me. It’s not like we’ll run into each other again after tonight. What could possibly happen if you tell me what’s wrong?”

He was right. You needed someone to rant about your problems to, and after tonight, you surely weren’t going to see him again. So, you told him everything. About how you failed your first semester of college, and how you have to tell your parents that you’d have to retake those classes, the same exact classes they spent thousands of their own money on.

“And you’re scared to see how your parents are going to react,” Jungkook finishes. “You shouldn’t be worried, it’s not that serious. I’m sure your parents will understand.”

“My parents are very strict,” you stated, sighing. “I’m scared of disappointing them.” You dropped your head onto the bar’s counter, groaning. Suddenly, you felt Jungkook’s hand on the lower part of your back, causing your entire body tense. And when glancing up at him, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks redden when seeing the smirk on his lips.

“I think you could use a drink,” he says before getting bartender’s attention. You watched as he ordered another shot of whatever he just drinking before he sat beside you, your eyes glancing down towards his arms, one of them being completely covered in tattoos. You couldn’t help but admire the unique designs of black ink that decorated his muscular arm.

“I’m underage,” you informed him, tearing your eyes away from his decorated skin and pushing the shot glass that was given to you back to him.

“Don’t worry.” Jungkook smiles reassuringly, pushing the shot glass back towards you. “I know the owner of this place. He won’t tell anyone.” He adds, grabbing the other glass that the bartender handed him and swallowed it down without any trouble. “And plus,” he then places his hand onto your thigh, smirking at the blush that crept onto your cheeks and the feeling of your body tensing underneath his touch. “This’ll help relieve some of that stress you’re feeling right now.”

You stared at the glass with hesitation. “Alcohol isn’t the answer.” You expected Jungkook to argue with you about your statement but he just laughed, shaking his head.

“I know another way to relieve stress, but I’m sure a good boy like you wouldn’t want to do.” You raised a brow at him, about to ask what he meant, but when noticing the seductive smirk on his lips and seeing the way his eyes scanned over your body...you knew exactly what meant.

“Oh,” was the only thing that could come out of your mouth. And without saying anything else, you grabbed the shot glass and took the shot of alcohol down your throat, wincing at the burning sensation inside.

Let’s just say the rest night was a complete blur to you.

Morning came, and the bright sunlight shining through your room’s currents proved to be unbearable for you as the sunlight burned into your eyelids, forcing them open. Your vision was blurry, mind was aching, and you couldn’t ignore the sharp pain you were currently feeling in your body’s lower region.

When you sat up from your bed, you noticed that you were completely naked, your neck and chest covered with numerous love bites. The sound of someone snoring softly beside you caused you to turn towards that person, your widening at the sight of a stranger sleeping beside you—who was also naked. At first, you didn’t know who that person was. That was until you noticed the very familiar tattooed arm. Jungkook.

“Oh my god,” you gasped silently, panicking, your mouth gaped open as you slowly took the covers off from your body and stood up from your bed, careful not to wake him. You walked over to your dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and overlarge shirt. And when putting them on, you noticed in your body-sized mirror more marks that covered your body. You noticed how there was more love bites on your thighs and back, and your hips bruised with large handprints.

After dressing into some clothes, you quietly stepped out of your room and entered your apartment’s kitchen, your eyes landing on your very tired-looking roommate. “Look who’s finally awake.”

“Hey...,” you mumbled, wincing at the painful migraine your head was suffering from. “How’s your morning?”

“I’m exhausted,” your roommate only said, taking a sip of her steaming coffee. “That man you brought home sure knew what he was doing. You were really loud last night.”

You could feel your cheeks blushing mildly, lowering head and refusing to meet your roommate’s stare. Suddenly, you heard knocking on your apartment’s door, causing you stare confusingly at the old, brownish colored door. “Who’s that?”

“That’s probably your parents.”

“W-What?...,” you froze, feeling your heart completely stop. Eyes-wide, you rushed towards the door and stared through the tiny peephole, and she was right. There stood both of your parents on the other side. “Shit,” you cursed, “Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?”

“What do you mean?” Your roommate stared at you with disbelief, scoffing. “You are the one who told me that they are coming today when you got home last night.”

“Oh my god,” you cried out, running your hands frustratingly over your face. “They can’t be here when he’s here!” You exclaimed, pointing back towards your room.

“Yeah,” your roommate agreed, nodding her head. “They won’t be happy to find out that their nineteen-year-old son slept with a twenty-four-year-old stranger with tattoos, who does drugs and drinks. I could practically smell the alcohol and cigarettes coming off from him when he entered our apartment.”

You stared at your roommate, raising a brow. “Wait, how do know his age?” Before saying anything, your roommate lifted up a wallet that was left on the counter. “Your friend left his wallet here before following you back to your room.”

“He’s not my friend,” you rolled your eyes. “And can you please distract them long enough so that I’m able to change and get him out of here?” You didn’t wait for your roommate’s answer before running back and barging into your room, wincing at the sound of a loud groan coming from the man you wanted out of your apartment as soon as possible.

“Shit,” Jungkook cursed, his voice was raspy—and quite attractive, but you couldn’t focus on that right now. “What time is it?” He asked, slowly sitting up from your bed and rubbing his hands over his eyes. You couldn’t help but admire his toned chest, your own eyes widening at the sight of the marks you left on him, noticing the faint love bites on his neck and collarbone, and red scratches down his muscular back.

“I-It’s nearly eight,” you stuttered, swallowing the lump in your throat. Jungkook glanced up at you through his squinted eyes, smirking. “Well good morning to you, sweetheart.”

“Good morning,” you found yourself smiling, but quickly reached down and grabbed his clothes from last night, dropping them onto his lap. “Under any other circumstance, I would’ve asked you to stay for breakfast, but sadly I need you to go, like now.”

“Ouch,” Jungkook winced teasingly, placing his hand over his heart, acting as if he was hurt from your words. He stood up from your bed and began to dress back into his clothes from yesterday. “Already wanting to get rid of me?”

“It’s not like that,” you frowned. You felt guilty for treating him like this, especially since he was so kind to you last night. “It’s just that my parents are here right now and they-”

“And they don’t know you’re gay?” Jungkook assumed.

“No, they know.” You corrected him, turning your back towards him as he changed, fighting the urge to peak. “They just won’t be happy that I’ve slept with a complete stranger with tattoos, and who smokes and drinks...”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly the perfect type, am I?” You frowned, feeling even more guilty when hearing the hurt tone in his voice. “I’ll just leave from your fire escape so that your parents won’t have to see me. You can just give me back my wallet later, you can find my number inside.”

You turned back and watched as he approached your window. But before he could manage to step through it and outside, you found yourself reaching towards him and grasping onto his leather jacket’s sleeve, stopping him from leaving. “Wait,” you paused, loosening your grip on his jacket. And without saying else, you leaned forward and pressed your lips gently against his, immediately feeling him kiss back with his hands finding their way onto your waist.

Jungkook was the one to pull away, breathing heavily as he stared confusingly at you. “What was that for?”

“How about we go out for lunch after my parents leave? I’ll pay.” You offered, smiling.

“That sounds good, but I’m paying.” Jungkook nods, giving a small grin. “You can pay me back another way,” he then smirks, running his thumb over your lips, remembering all the sinful things you’ve done with them just last night. “Just call me when you’re ready, and I’ll come back and pick you up.”

“O-Okay,” you managed to stutter out, feeling him kiss your forehead before leaving. You watched as he then climbed down your fire escape, a smile never leaving your lips.

Perhaps failing your first semester of college wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

#bonnyskies #bts #bts x reader #bts x male reader #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x male reader #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x male reader #bangtan #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader

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letsperaltiago · 4 years

Text

a merry little christmas

Welcome to (once again belated) door four of four!

Behind my Christmas calendar’s fourth door is a... baby’s first christmas, pure fluff oneshot ♥️

Summary: It's Baby's First Christmas and Jake and Amy are taking it all in - both presents and tiny surprises from their son. Pure domestic fluff for days.

Rating: G

Words: 2.2k

Read on AO3 here

Right then and there keeping a straight face, or just anything that looks somewhat close to it, is beyond impossible.

It’s Christmas morning, six AM to be more precise, and the still rather new, little family of three is slowly making their way through the presents waiting for them under this years’ Christmas tree. As a matter of fact, it’s rather Jake opening gifts meanwhile Amy is on the couch with their two-month-old son eating his second breakfast - that is if his previous meal at three AM can be considered breakfast. Jake likes to call those meals Midnight Mac Snacks.

“They really need to communicate more,” Amy chuckles, which causes her chest to jolt just the tiniest bit, alas apparently enough that it earns her a grumpy little cry from Mac to which she immediately reacts by stroking and repositioning the tiny infant’s head. “No need to complain, Mr. Mac. Mommy and daddy are just having some fun.”

“He’s bitter because all he got for Christmas is ‘Baby’s first Christmas’-ornaments.” Jake hasn’t stopped laughing since he opened the third ornament, from auntie Roro, which came after uncle Charles’ ornament. Upon unpacking this second ornament, from Charles, matching the first ornament from Holt, it didn’t cause much worry. The new parents simply saw it as a matching coincidence and they’d just keep both. Although upon unpacking a third one, they should’ve known: it was a perfect, hilarious 99th precinct-disaster.

Fast forward to present time, Jake is sat on the living room floor with not three but six ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ ornaments for his son. Sure, they’re all different styles and designs but Jake can’t help but laugh. In retrospect, he and Amy had told the squad that baby Mac didn’t need anything grand for Christmas as he was still so small and had everything he needed so far. They told their friends to save the money and spoil Mac for next Christmas, a Christmas he’d understand much better than the current. Turns out great minds think alike and everyone’s creative take on Mac’s gift had been the same.

“It’s kind of cute that they all had the same idea.” Mac has gone back to quietly suckling on Amy’s breast, allowing her time to chime in on perhaps this Christmas’ funniest moment yet. It’s too soon to declare it the funniest as they’re headed to a huge Santiago Christmas-dinner in the evening and anything can happen there.

For Christmas morning though they very early on, already before Amy gave birth, decided to stay home as they knew it’s what they’d prefer with their very new son. Sitting there, in the moment, looking at gifts from their incredible friends and Mac quietly eating in the lights coming from the Christmas tree, they’re both thankful to have made that choice. Sure, Santiago-Christmas morning was an event that you didn’t want to miss out on but this year, with very few hours of sleep behind them and vomit on both clothes and hair, it’s nice to be able to soak in the sweet surrender of their little trinity.

“We do have the best friends.” He picks up the ornaments, hanging them on his fingers to put on display for his wife. “What do we do with these?” A sheepish smile replaces the goofy grin from before.

“I don’t know…”

The doubt on Amy’s face, biting her lip, thinking hard, is clear as day which is understandable since Jake himself doesn’t hold the answer for their little dilemma. Giving them back to their respective giver is not an option - what would Holt do with a ‘Baby’s First Christmas Ornament’? - and getting a refund also seems too cold. Fact is that each of their friends has had the same idea: they wanted to mark and somehow be a part of Mac’s first Christmas. Jake and Amy can’t, nor want to, take that away from their son nor their friends. All in all, there seems to be no good solution but one: keep all six ornaments.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Jake cocks an eyebrow, implicitly suggesting what his wife is already thinking.

“If you’re thinking that we should keep them all and put them on the tree, then yes, I am thinking what you’re thinking.”

At just the right time, almost as if he’s agreeing, Mac lets go of his mom’s nipple before letting out a small, hazy gurgling sound. A sound he’s never made before. Both parents freeze on the spot, forgetting all and everything about the ornament-issue.

“Did you hear that?” Amy asks, making it sound as if she doesn’t believe her ears and a second opinion is needed. Having studied all and everything for her first child’s arrival, everything this could possibly imply, Amy shouldn’t be surprised that her two-month-old is finally introducing his first small noises. The fact resides very clearly on the Milestones to Expect-index, page 2, in her ‘Two month’-binder. Yet here she is, Jake right there with her, surprised by this new accomplishment of her newborn - one of many accomplishments that she both loves and, even two months in, still is a bit nervous about discovering as she just rather know her baby fully by heart already. On those occasions where Mac’s changing, something she swears happens daily, makes her feel uneasy as if she doesn’t know him at all, she holds onto Jake’s reasoning: Some tests can’t be studied for.

And no matter how much she hates that fact, Amy knows her husband is right and she does love him for reminding her whenever she happens to fall down a spiral of doubt and frantically tries to grasp for the control that lies within facts, books, and lists.

Jake jumps from his spot on the floor as if it were lava and falls into place beside her on the couch where he can hover over his incredible son.

“I did but I didn’t fully realize where it came from right away, but oh my gosh, Ames! Our son is a genius!”

“Perhaps… Or simply in accordance with average-”

“No, Amy - a genius! Like his parents.”

Her husband looking as if he could burst any second, a firecracker of sorts and there’s no stopping the explosion, Amy hurries to put down her before lifted shirt and places Mac against her shoulder. Here she hopes he can both burp and, hopefully, make another glorious sound for them to be proud of. Jake leans in as though he and Mac are to exchange secrets behind Amy’s back and the milk-drunk infant, unable to control a whole lot, waves around his arm and just so happens to grab Jake’s index finger. During these first two months of Mac’s life, this has happened a few times already, the first time being at the hospital which caused Jake to cry happy tears Still, every single time, Jake feels reaffirmed by the fact that creating this tiny human being is one of his best decisions ever - that and telling Amy Santiago that he wished something could happen between them - romantic stylez.

“C’mon, mister. Show daddy how you talk.” Jake coos even though the little man of the moment seems far from interested in or bothered by his parents’ admiration and swooning over his new talent. His mommy patting his back does feel good though, especially when it helps a burp escape and Jake, of course, has to laugh because Mac is truly and fiercely his son. “Now that’s talking!”

“Not what I had in mind but nice to know he’s burped.” Amy chimes in and replaces the soft patting with small loving strokes, hoping to soothe her boy to sleep as the next step in his ‘eat, burp, sleep’-routine - even if Amy wishes Mac would make another sound. Just to confirm that she wasn’t hallucinating before.

“Make a sound for mommy, baby. Just a tiny one.” Amy takes her turn cooing a plea but it happens to be very much in vain.

“Aaand he’s dozed off,” Jake chuckles quietly whilst using his thumb to caress the tiny fist still wrapped around his index fingers, a fist that doesn’t let go even though the owner is already fast asleep with a mix of drool and milk caught in the corner of the gaping mouth.

“That was fast.”

“I don’t blame him. Life is exhausting.” Jake is carefully pecking his son’s head covered by thing, soft, black hair and even though Mac on her shoulder blocks the view, Amy smiles and wonders how she got to lucky with these two boys.

“Bedtime?” Amy asks, expectant of confirmation of whether or not Mac is far enough gone to be moved without waking up and throwing a tantrum that’ll mean they’ll have to spend another half hour or so lulling him back to sleep.

“I sure wouldn’t mind. I did prepare breakfast though.” It comes out mid-yawn, proving Jake’s point further, as he nods his head in the direction of the pancakes, courtesy of Jake, and hot cocoa, courtesy of the local bakery that has blessed their lives by opening at five AM, waiting for them in the kitchen.

“Not you, silly. McClane. You and I are definitely having that delicious cocoa. The smell of it has been tempting me since I sat down to feed.”

They mostly call him Mac. Mac or a thousand other things like Mr. Mac, Magic Mac, baby, monkey - one time, macadamia nut - and the options are limitless and renewed every day. Jake doesn’t know for sure but this might be the reason why the full name McClane being said, the context being that it’s his son’s name, makes him feel butterflies in his belly. Either that or because he still can’t believe they named their son that. Perhaps it’s a bit of both reasons.

“Still can’t believe you agreed to that name.”

“Must’ve been a moment of weakness for me. I was pregnant and delusional.”

Amy teases and proceeds to carefully remove sleeping Mac from his spot on her shoulder, relocating him to the safety of her cradling arms.

“Delusional from the incredible round of sexy timez we had just prior to picking his name.”

“Jake,” she scolds as if the sleeping baby, which doesn’t even grasp the concept of speaking yet, were to be scarred by their explicit flirting.

“What?”

Amy’s already up on her feet, heads down the hall and into their bedroom with Jake close on her heels. “I remember it so vividly.” Jake points to their bed. “We were right here, post incredible sex, and we got talking about baby names because a new suggestion had stroked your mind right before I came in and wooed you with my good, amazingly hot looks.” Amy’s head whips around from where’s she’s just focused on placing Mac in his cradle, double-checking that he’s still asleep, now displaying a cocked brow and overall expression that challenges his recollections of that conclusive night. Defeat hits him and his shoulders drop with a sigh.

“Okay, you were seven months pregnant and going through a particularly horny phase - which I, by the way, loved - and I, being a dutiful husband, couldn’t decline your explicit requests. But I do still stand by the fact that I boinked my way to the name McClane.”

“Oh my god,” Amy groans, partly in reaction to her husband, partly in reaction to her sore back making an appearance when she straightens up from tugging in the baby. “Stop besmearing our child’s name. I can still change my mind.”

“I’m right though.” In the meantime, Jake has approached his wife and wraps his arms around her. Pulling her closer, back to chest, and she instantly relaxes under the pecks he places on her neck. “And it’s an amazing name for an amazing little human.”

They smile in unison as they admire the life they created, carelessly and contently sleeping Christmas morning away, before them. Wrapped up in her husband’s arms and their perfect little son to look at, a fuzzy feeling that is way beyond and greater than happiness flows through Amy’s veins. The pecks to her sweaty and tired-feeling skin pick back up where they left off, systematically and how he knows she likes it, going around her neck and shoulder-area.

“I really wanna give in to how inappropriately horny you’ve suddenly made me, but…” she trails off with a sigh.

“You can’t stop thinking about the hot cocoa.” He finishes her sentence and the pecks are replaced by a muffled chuckle that tickles her skin. “It’s okay, Ames. I’m right there with you.”

“Thank God,” she groans.

“Hot cocoa and a Christmas movie we can fall back asleep to?”

This suggestion of Jake’s that will allow Amy to give into her tiredness is what she’s wanted to hear all morning.

“Sounds perfect. Grab the baby monitor?” She turns around to follow him back to their kitchen only to see him already holding the gadget with a tired, knowing smile plastered across his face and to Amy, even with his messy curls and shirt clad with stains of baby-vomit, her husband looks absolutely perfect.

Baby’s First Christmas might just be her favorite Christmas so far.

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