#this is going to be TINY and LITTLE and these starters are going to be OPENENDED

[mapengen-com]

Battle Scar

A new scar appears on Ingrid's skin.

It was one of those lazy Saturday mornings where time stretched out like warm dough, soft and unhurried. Sunlight poured through the living room window in Barcelona, falling across the back of the couch where Mapi was sprawled like a contented cat. Ingrid sat cross-legged on the floor, assembling a small wooden train track for Elisa, who was very serious about which pieces went where.

"Not that one, Ingi," Elisa said, her tiny finger pointing at the curved bit Ingrid had just tried to attach. "That goes there."

"Okay, okay, boss,” Ingrid smiled patiently. “You sure you don’t want to be an architect when you grow up?"

Elisa tilted her head, considering the suggestion for half a second. 

“No. I’m a crocodile.”

"Obviously," Mapi mumbled from the couch, flipping a page of her book. "She made that very clear when she tried to eat what’s left of Bagheera’s tail this morning."

Bagheera, ever surprisingly patient with the kid, was curled up on the windowsill, wisely avoiding eye contact with the little predator now bouncing in her dinosaur-print pajamas.

"Cro-co-diles bite!" Elisa announced, eyes gleaming as she clambered into Ingrid’s lap without warning. Ingrid laughed, catching her so she didn’t face-plant into the train set.

"You’re going to be a very polite crocodile though, right?" The Norwegian said, adjusting Elisa on her lap. "One that gives hugs instead of bites?"

Elisa smiled sweetly. Suspiciously sweetly. 

"Hug bite!"

“Wait,” Ingrid blinked. “What’s a…”

Before she could finish, Elisa launched forward like a tiny, determined missile and bit Ingrid’s nose.

There was a tiny yelp – a startled noise that wasn’t quite pain but definitely wasn’t comfort either – and Ingrid reeled back, clutching her face.

"Ow! Oh my God! Elisa!"

“What did you do?!” Mapi bolted upright.

Elisa blinked innocently, teeth marks glistening on her lips like she’d just taken a bite out of an apple.

“I bit,” she chirped.

Mapi stood frozen for a second, then burst into a full laugh. 

“No. No way. Did she just bite your nose?!”

“She did!” Ingrid cried, now holding the tip of her nose, which was slightly red and – oh no – had a tiny dot of blood. “She actually bit me. Like a real crocodile!”

Elisa stared, wide-eyed at the drop of red on Ingrid’s nose. She looked between Ingrid, Mapi, and Bagheera, clearly realizing that she had crossed into new territory. Her little mouth trembled.

“I didn’t mean to hurt,” she whispered, eyes now filled with tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “I just wanted to pretend.”

“Oh, hey, hey. Don’t cry, crocodile,” Ingrid’s expression immediately softened. She wiped her hand on her pajama pants and opened her arms. “Come here.”

Elisa crawled in like a guilty puppy, burying her face in Ingrid’s shoulder.

“Ingrid, you’re going to have the cutest nose scar,” Mapi, still chuckling, went to fetch a tissue. “What a conversation starter.”

“Oh yes,” she said dryly. “Perfect for team dinners. ‘How did you get injured?’ ‘Oh, just my preschool-aged crocodile decided my face was a snack.’ ”

“At least it was the nose. Could’ve been worse,” Mapi handed her the tissue and kissed her cheek as she sat down beside them. 

“I almost bit your ear before,” Elisa mumbled into Ingrid’s shirt.

“You what?!” She nearly choked. 

“Last night. When Ma was being a kitten.”

“Correction,” Mapi raised a finger. “I was a lion. You were the kitten. Ingrid was the tree.”

“Trees don’t get bitten!” Ingrid said in mock outrage.

“Croco-kitten trees do,” Elisa replied seriously, lifting her head. Her guilt had already faded, replaced with amusement and toddler logic.

“You know you can’t just go around biting people, right? That’s not how we show love,” Ingrid looked down at her and sighed with a half-smile.

“I know,” Elisa said softly, nuzzling into her again. “But your nose is so nice.”

“It is a nice nose,” Mapi agreed. “It’s the only reason I kissed her back the first time.”

“What?!” Ingrid raised her eyebrows. 

“Joking!” Mapi grinned. “It was the eyes. But the nose helped.”

Elisa giggled, her hands now gently cradling Ingrid’s cheeks. She examined the small scratch on the nose with intense focus.

“I’ll kiss it better,” she said, and she did – a soft little peck right on the tip, feather-light.

“Well. That fixes everything,” Ingrid melted immediately. 

“You’re my favorite tree,” Elisa told her, and then turned to Mapi. “And you’re my lion. But I don’t bite lions ‘cause they bite back.”

“Exactly,” Mapi smirked. “Good instinct.”

For the rest of the day, Elisa took her crocodile status very seriously, crawling around the house with a green blanket tied around her shoulders and announcing “CROC O’CLOCK!” whenever she wanted to play. But she kept a respectful distance from Ingrid’s face – especially the nose – while occasionally checking in to make sure it was still attached.

By bedtime, Ingrid’s nose had stopped bleeding, and Mapi had applied a very dramatic bandage, “just for style.”

When they tucked Elisa in, she sleepily mumbled, “I won’t bite your face again.”

“Thank you,” Ingrid said, kissing her forehead.

“But maybe your ear. It looks soft.”

“Well, good luck tomorrow,” Mapi laughed from the doorway. 

~

The next morning, the house was quiet (for about three seconds).

At precisely 6:07 AM, Elisa padded into Mapi and Ingrid’s bedroom wearing her “crocodile cape” (which was really just a green towel with a hood that had tiny sewn-on eyes). She stood silently at the foot of the bed, watching them sleep.

Well, watching Ingrid sleep.

She climbed carefully up the side and leaned close, inspecting Ingrid’s nose like a scientist checking on an experiment.

“Hmm…” she whispered, prodding it with one tiny finger.

Ingrid scrunched her face and groaned. “What are you…?”

Elisa smiled proudly. “Checking your nose.”

Mapi, half-buried under the duvet, cracked an eye open and groaned. “She’s doing the rounds. You’re the patient.”

“It looks… okay,” Elisa said in her serious doctor voice. “No more blood.”

“Great news,” Ingrid mumbled, her voice rough with sleep.

“Now I’m a nurse crocodile,” Elisa declared, hopping up and sitting on Ingrid’s stomach like it was a perfectly normal chair. “I take care of noses.”

Mapi couldn’t stop laughing from her side of the bed. “So, what’s the treatment plan, Nurse Crocodile?”

Elisa thought deeply. “Hmm… ice cream.”

“I like your approach to medicine,” Ingrid said, poking at Elisa’s belly to make her giggle.

“Breakfast ice cream!” Elisa demanded, suddenly energized by her own suggestion.

Ingrid and Mapi shared a look over Elisa’s head—the silent, exhausted conversation of two parents who knew there was zero chance of going back to sleep now.

Mapi sighed dramatically. “Fine. Ice cream. But only if Nurse Crocodile promises: no more biting the patients.”

Elisa pretended to think about it. “Hmm… okay. But maybe only ears.”

Ingrid shook her head, pulling Elisa into a tickle-hug that made her squeal. “No ears! That’s not how doctors work!”

“You don’t know,” Elisa argued between laughs. “You’re not a crocodile doctor.”

Mapi stretched her arms above her head, already sliding out of bed. “Come on, Nurse Crocodile. Let’s go get your patients some ice cream.”

Elisa scrambled after her, leaving Ingrid lying there with her battle-scarred nose and her heart completely melted.

Later that afternoon, they decided to go for a walk in the park to let Elisa burn off some of her boundless energy. Elisa marched ahead of them, still wearing her green towel-cape over her clothes, yelling “SNAP!” at unsuspecting pigeons.

“Do you think we’re raising a future zoologist?” Mapi asked, as they strolled hand-in-hand behind her.

“Either that or a professional wrestler,” Ingrid replied. “She’s got the moves.”

“How’s the nose, by the way? Surviving?” Mapi laughed, leaning in to brush a kiss over Ingrid’s still-pink nose. 

“It’s fine,” Ingrid rolled her eyes but smiled. “You barely notice it now.”

“You say that,” the Spaniard teased. “But when she’s sixteen and we tell this story in front of her friends…”

“Oh, we are telling this story.”

“Obviously.”

They kept walking, watching as Elisa crouched low behind a tree, waiting for an unsuspecting squirrel to pass by.

“I love how she thinks she’s stealthy,” Ingrid whispered.

“She’s wearing a towel and singing the ‘Jaws’ theme under her breath.”

“Iconic.”

They reached the little playground, and Elisa immediately bolted for the slide, her crocodile cape flapping dramatically behind her. Mapi and Ingrid sat on a bench, watching as Elisa climbed, slid, climbed, and slid over and over, occasionally pausing to snap at imaginary prey.

Suddenly, a little boy about her age approached her. 

“Why you wearing that?” He asked, pointing to the cape.

“I’m a crocodile!” Elisa announced proudly.

“Crocodiles don’t wear towels,” he said flatly.

Elisa stared at him for a second, then shrugged. 

“Mine does,” and with that, she turned and slid down again, completely unbothered.

“God, she’s so much like you,” Mapi nearly choked on her coffee. 

“What?” Ingrid laughed. “Why me?”

“That confident, deadpan delivery? All you.”

“I guess we’ve created a little monster,” she mock-sighed. 

“A little crocodile .”

They sat there for a long while, letting Elisa play until her legs wobbled with exhaustion. By the time they headed home, Elisa was practically sleepwalking between them, her small hands gripping both of theirs, the crocodile cape trailing in the dust.

As they reached the apartment door, Ingrid scooped Elisa up, her arms instinctively strong and sure.

“Bedtime,” Ingrid whispered.

“No bite?” Elisa mumbled sleepily against Ingrid’s shoulder.

“No bite,” the dark-haired promised, kissing the top of her head.

“But your nose is still… Funny.”

“It is, huh?” She laughed quietly as Mapi opened the door. 

“It’s a funny nose,” the kid murmured, her eyes already closing. 

And that night, after tucking her into bed, Mapi and Ingrid sat in the living room, looking at each other across the coffee table.

“So… How long do you think before she tries to bite me?” The Spaniard grinned.

“Oh, it’s coming,” Ingrid leaned back, her hands behind her head. 

“We should warn the team,” Mapi laughed. 

“We should buy more Band-Aids.”

And from then on – or for the next week, because Elisa suddenly forgot she was supposed to be a crocodile and decided to be a cat instead –, Ingrid was known in the household as “The Crocodile’s First Victim”, a title she wore with pride, especially whenever Elisa would crawl into her lap and trace her little fingers over the now-healed spot on Ingrid’s nose, whispering, “This nose… my favorite.” And Ingrid always answered, with a smile, “Mine too.”

~ 

Elisa joined them the next time they went to the facilities. It was one of those slow afternoons at the training ground when the sun had finally dipped low enough for the players to gather outside by the picnic benches near the field, so they all decided to take it slow. 

Training had ended, and most of the girls had showered when they lounged around in comfortable team gear, sharing snacks and stories, half-tired and half-buzzing from the adrenaline of a good session.

And then came the pitter-patter of tiny sneakers.

“Uh oh,” Frido said with a grin. “I know that sound.”

Sure enough, Elisa came into view, her curls bouncing wildly as she ran up the small hill toward the benches, arms pumping like she was in a race. Mapi followed not far behind, carrying Elisa’s dinosaur-print backpack and looking only slightly winded.

“Guess who escaped while I was tying my shoe,” Mapi muttered.

Elisa skidded to a dramatic stop in front of the team, hands on her hips, grinning like she owned the club.

“HI!” She shouted.

The girls chorused back a warm and amused “Hi, Elisa!”

“Where’s Ingi?” She asked, turning around in a circle like she could summon her with the right spin.

“She’s still icing her knee,” Patri said. “But she’ll be here soon.”

“Good,” Elisa said, folding her arms, full of purpose. “Because I got a story to tell.”

The team looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

“Oh?” Alexia said, resting her chin on her hand. “Is it a good one?”

“YES,” Elisa nodded so hard her curls flopped into her eyes. “It’s about Ingrid’s nose.”

“This just got interesting,” Aitana tried to hide her laugh.

“Oh God. No. No no no,” Mapi was already slumping onto the bench, hands over her face.

“Yes!” Elisa said, clearly thinking Mapi’s reaction was just part of the excitement. “So. Once upon a time, like, yesterday, I was a crocodile.”

“That tracks,” Jana said, biting into an apple. “Keep going.”

“And Ingrid was the tree,” Elisa continued. “But not a boring tree. A nice one.”

“That’s good,” Pina added seriously. “Nobody wants to be a boring tree.”

“So I climbed on her lap, and then…” Elisa paused dramatically, holding one hand in front of her open mouth for full effect.

“Oh no,” Frido murmured, eyes wide in mock horror. “What happened next?!”

“I bit her NOSE!” Elisa shouted, throwing both hands in the air.

The whole team lost it.

Laughter burst across the benches like a wave, a mixture of disbelief and total amusement. Some clutched their sides. Cata nearly dropped her water bottle. Alexia had to wipe tears from her eyes.

“Nooo,” Patri laughed, gasping. “You didn’t!”

“I did,” Elisa said proudly, hands on her hips again. “And it bled. Just a little. But she said ow .”

“Of course she said ‘ow’ !” Jana laughed. “You bit her face!”

“She’s so brave,” the kid added earnestly, like she was praising a soldier in battle. “She didn’t even cry. Not even one drop.”

“That’s true love,” Irene said solemnly.

“She said I couldn’t bite noses anymore,” Elisa explained. “So now I only do ears.”

The team stared in stunned silence.

“Mapi,” Alexia said, blinking. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Mapi muttered. “I’m parenting a tiny menace. You all think she’s cute but wait until she chomps you.”

“But I love her,” Frido said dramatically, getting up and walking over to Elisa. “Come here, you tiny nose bandit.”

Elisa squealed as Frido scooped her up, spinning her around while Elisa yelled, “WHEEEEE! I’M A CROCODILE!”

“Can we put this on the back of her future jersey?” Pina asked, way too seriously to be a joke. “ELISA, Number 4. Position: Nose Striker.”

That only made the laughter worse.

Then, as if on cue, Ingrid finally emerged from the building, her damp hair tied up in a bun, a protein bar in her hand.

“Hey,” she called. “What’s so funny?”

“IT’S YOU!” Elisa, still in Frido’s arms, pointed dramatically. 

“What did I do?” Ingrid blinked.

“She told us the whole nose story,” Alexia called, grinning. “In great detail.”

“Oh my God,” Ingrid’s eyes went wide. 

“She called you a brave tree,” Patri added, barely holding it together.

“She said you didn’t cry, not even one drop!” Cata shouted.

“That’s because I was in shock,” Ingrid covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. 

“Show us the scar!” Jana said, and the girls all leaned forward like it was some ancient battle wound.

“Oh my God, it’s not a scar, it’s like… Barely there now,” the Norwegian tried, waving them off as she walked up. “You’re all being so dramatic.”

“Not us,” Mapi said. “Your kid. We’re just the audience.”

Elisa wiggled out of Frido’s arms and ran to Ingrid, immediately reaching up to cup her  cheeks like she was checking on her again.

“Still there,” she declared. “Still a very nice nose.”

“You think so?” Ingrid asked, smiling down at her. Elisa nodded. 

“I’m not gonna bite it today.”

“Wow. What a gift,” the dark-haired said, crouching to kiss her. “You hear that, Mapi? It’s a no-bite day.”

“Mark the calendar,” she said. “I’m framing this moment.”

“Can I tell the story again tomorrow?” Elisa asked, looking around at the team.

“You can tell it every day,” Alexia snorted. “Honestly, I’d pay to hear it again.”

“I’m gonna draw it,” the kid added suddenly, inspired. “Ingrid will be the tree, and her nose will be… Here,” she pointed to the center of her own forehead. “With a tiny band-aid. And I’ll be the crocodile.”

“I want a copy,” Frido said. “Frame it. Hang it in the locker room.”

And as the sun dipped lower and the team lingered a little longer outside, laughing and snacking and watching Elisa crawl under the bench like a “swamp predator,” Ingrid glanced at Mapi, who just looked back at her with that same exasperated, helpless, adoring expression she always wore when it came to Elisa.

“She really told them everything,” Ingrid murmured.

“She has no filter. Just pride .”

“Yeah… But she’s our crocodile,” she smiled softly. 

“And you’re her favorite tree,” Mapi wrapped an arm around her.

“With the most famous nose in the whole league,” Ingrid leaned against her, tucking herself on Mapi’s side.

And as Elisa cackled behind them, growling and snapping at a water bottle like it was her next meal, both of them knew: this story was going to follow them for years. And somehow… They didn’t mind at all.

Still, Ingrid made sure to pick at the tiny spot of blood on her nose every chance she got, just to actually leave the smallest scar ever. Nobody – except for her and Mapi – ever knew about it. 

But sometimes, as Elisa grew up and stopped playing pretend as much as she did as a little kid, the Spaniard would catch Ingrid staring at herself in the bathroom mirror with a soft smile, watching the same white line on the bridge of the nose like it was sacred. 

Mapi made sure to kiss it every chance she had. 

[timethehobo]

Just some lil fellas cos I wanted to try the other companions too!

[mechaffeine]

Feeling mean and petty. Maybe it is time to eat something. Hum hum.

[tartt9]

what if.... little tiny starter call in my low fantasy au....

[coloursofaparadox]

i ✨️cannot sleep✨️ and vaguing about shit on the internet feels more cathartic than writing it out somewhere else. suffer.

[ofteaandmagic]

“A’right, I admit that goin’ through the floor isn’t the correct way to start an adventure--but, are ya comin’ or NOT…?”

Part of her wishes that her twin had been on board with this idea; instead of having to ask someone else.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Dp x Dc short idea

Jason is Danny’s dad

Warning: Language

Jason had just returned to the family publicly about two weeks ago. It hadn’t even been that long for him to settle before something happened. The press weren’t even off his ass and he has Alfred requesting he return home for an urgent matter immediately, which is butler speak for get your ass here right now!

The family was happy but adjusting to everything. They had mandatory family dinners at least twice a month and voluntarily got together more frequently, mostly just the siblings, but every once in a while Bruce would sneak in for a movie in the family room.

Alfred was pleased with the progress the family has made over the course of many years. It finally felt like everything was coming together and maybe settling down. He knew he thought that too soon when he answered the buzzer at the front gate. They weren’t expecting any visitors and looking at the video feed it was a young woman with hands on her hips glaring back at the camera. There were two large bags with her and surprisingly enough a young child playing in the grass just a short distance behind her.

“Wayne Residence, Alfred Pennyworth speaking, how may I assist you, ma’am?”

��Lettin’ me in for starters,” she says back with venom on her tongue.

“My apologies, but you do not have an appointment.”

She snorts, “Nah, but ya see, I saw that bastard on the news and thought I’d drop off what he gave me.”

To get her point across, she turns and looks back at the little boy not paying her any attention.

“Danny!” She snaps and he jerks his head to look at, who Alfred is assuming is, his mother. “Come here.”

He hops up at his own pace and dusts off the grass on his knees before trotting over. She leans down to angle the young boy away from the camera and pushing back his hair.

He couldn’t see it well before by the way the boy was positioned before, but Alfred could clearly see a prominent patch of white hair on the left lower section by his neck. Just like the white batch on Jason.

“You gonna let us in now?” She asks rudely.

Alfred has already determined he did not like this woman. He still buzzes them in. He contacts Jason immediately followed closely with Bruce.

Alfred then helps the two carry in the bags, while subtly checking for any weapons or explosives. Instead he finds things meant for a child.

He really didn’t like this woman.

Bruce is the first one to arrive down the stairs, pausing towards the bottom. He glances at Alfred and can see the displeasure in the butler’s eyes.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m Bruce Wayne, nice to meet you.”

“Fuckin’ everyone knows who you are, Brucie Wayne,” she huffs with a roll of her eyes.

Bruce glances down at the very young child who is hearing the foul language. He couldn’t be more than five, and completely oblivious as the little boy runs a hand along the wall and looks around at everything. He particularly keeps going back to the shiny chandelier above their heads.

“Who might you be?” He asks the woman, coming back to her as she almost touches the vase on the entry table. She draws her hand back to fold her arms across her chest.

“Grace.”

The name seems ironic compared to her behavior.

“And how can I help you, Miss Grace?”

“Your thought-to-be-dead son left something of his. I’m here to return it.”

It took no detective to determine she was talking about the boy currently using the door frame to the sitting room as leverage to rock back and forth, holding on with his tiny hands. Bruce could see the splash of white among the dark hair from this angle.

Bruce hums.

“Is that so?”

“I’ve already contacted Master Jason. He should be arriving soon. Shall I prepare some refreshments in the drawing room?” Alfred informs.

“Thank you, Alfred. Right this way,” he says to Grace, directing her toward the left while pulling out his phone to ask Tim to prepare the proper equipment downstairs.

“Danny!” The woman calls with impatience. She glares at the little boy who calmly turns to look at her, then skips behind them.

Grace huffs but doesn’t say anything else as they enter the room. She sits herself in the middle of the love seat and Bruce takes one of the chairs across from her. The boy, Danny, explores the room thoroughly, walking around without pattern and investigating every nook and cabinet to keep himself entertained. Very curious little child.

Bruce tries to engage her in conversation to dig up more information, but she firmly wanted to wait for Jason before divulging anything. He did however find out that Danny is four and needs to be enrolled in kindergarten next turn. Grace works night shift but wouldn’t say where.

Alfred came with three waters, one in a smaller plastic cup for Danny, and a plate of crackers and cut up fruit.

Grace eyes the butler with a raised brow. However, the first words Danny has spoken in their presence is a cute, “Thank you, mister,” before munching on a cracker and sipping from his cup. His curious eyes flick over the fruit and wanders over to his mother who picks at a rip in her jeans. He taps her knee and she sighs.

“What is it?”

“What’s that?”

Danny points to the fruit.

“What’s what?”

He creeps forward to point directly at the blackberries mixed in with the blueberries and strawberries.

“Blackberry,” she answers shortly.

“What’s it taste like?”

“Why don’t you try it and find out?”

He must have approved of that suggestion and reaches in to clumsily wrap a tiny hand around one of the dark berries. He flips it over in his hand for a minute, observing it at all angles, feeling the texture of the little bumps, before shoving it in his mouth. Danny leans his body over the coffee table to drag the bowl closer and rummage through it for more goodies.

Really looking at him, Bruce could see Jason’s freckles and the few other similarities like his square jaw and lip shape. He hasn’t seen it yet but Bruce bets Danny has the same crooked grin as his son.

He has the woman’s pale complexion and nose shape. His hair was straight like hers instead of Jason’s curls, but Danny took his dark coloring compared to her light brunette.

The boy was an adorable mix of both his son and this woman. He almost felt the test was unnecessary, but he didn’t stop Alfred from replacing the plastic cup and take it back to the kitchen where he knew it would be handed off to Tim.

Thankfully it was a day where there weren’t any meetings for either of them to attend.

Surprisingly, it isn’t Jason that enters the room first, it’s Damian coming home from school. The fourteen year old, almost fifteen, holds a leash in one hand with Titus standing patiently next to him, ready for his after school walk.

“Father, I heard we have guests.”

The teen stops in the doorway and Danny turns with interest until he spots the animal, then his eyes bug with excitement.

“Mommy, doggie,” he whisper shouts.

She just hums in affirmative, looking the new arrival up and down.

Danny grabs a blackberry from the bowl and trots over to Damian. He holds out the piece of fruit.

“This is a blackberry,” he states proudly.

Damian blinks down at the small child. Titus tilts his head, his nose working hard.

“I’m aware.”

“You can have it, if you let me pet your doggie,” he negotiates like he needed to give something in order to receive permission.

Damian looks up to his father for answers.

“Jason will be here soon,” is what he gets instead, his father’s lips twitch.

Damian looks back down in sudden realization when he sees the similarities between the man and this boy. He sighs tiredly.

“Pennyworth. A wet washcloth if you please.”

“Right away, Master Damian.”

“Next time, you only need to ask to pet Titus, you do not need to give me anything in return,” he tells the child.

Danny looks down at the berry sitting in his stained hands.

“So you don’t want it?”

“…Maybe later.”

“Okay!”

Danny skips back to carefully set the berry off the side on the tray, as if to save it for Damian for later like he said. He jogs the short distance back to them.

“Can I pet your doggie now, please?”

Damian takes the washcloth Alfred hands him with a nod and crouches down to get level with the boy.

“We must wipe our hands first. We don’t want anything sticky in his fur,” he explains as he holds out the washcloth for Danny’s hands.

The four year old looks down at the stains to see what he means and then places his hands on the washcloth for Damian to get the juices off.

The teen then calmly explains how to properly approach a dog he does not know by letting Titus smell the back of his hand first and then to always stay calm and confident.

Titus, the gentle giant that he is, had no problems letting the tiny child pat him and run small fingers through his short fur. It was endearing to hear the giggles when Titus used his big nose to sniff at the child’s face and neck. Sitting down, Titus was taller than the child standing up, which would have been scary to some kids, but Danny seemed to love Titus instantly. The little boy easily telling the dog what a good boy he is even with the dog sitting there doing nothing.

“Titus needs his afternoon walk now,” Damian informs.

Titus stands at the word walk, clearly ready to go.

“Oh, okay.” Danny turns to the big dog to reach up and pat his head twice. “Bye-bye, Titus. Have a good walk.”

The two leave and Danny skips back over to hang over the arm of the love seat his mother sits in, typing on her phone.

“Mommy, did you see the doggie? His name is Titus. He’s a good dog.”

“Uh-huh,” she comments without really listening.

“Do you like dogs, Danny?” Bruce asks with a smile.

Danny looks at him like he forgot the man was there, tilts his head as he studies him for a moment. Bruce waits patiently until Danny deems him okay and perks back up with bright eyes.

“Uh-huh! I love dogs! Mommy says we can’t get one ‘cuz our ‘partment is too small and they’re dirty. You’s guys are lucky,” the boy rambles as he wanders around the coffee table to get closer to Bruce and away from his distracted mother.

“How do you feel about cats? Damian has a black and white one around here somewhere.”

Danny shrugs and they continue to have a rather pleasant conversation about different animals and foods and each of their houses. It takes up the amount of time for Jason to walk through the door, seemingly already informed of the situation from Alfred.

Jason was… flabbergasted. Bewildered. Caught unprepared. He was a lot of words. Mostly he was scared.

Did he really have a child? A son? If that was true then he missed so much. He missed all of his firsts. First words, first steps, first laugh, first everything.

Would the boy even like him? What if he saw all his scars and was scared of him? What if he didn’t want anything to do with Jason after not being in his life this whole time?

But the boy might not be his. There’s that. That could be… Jason didn’t like the disappointment that thought brought.

Grace was the first one he noticed. Her ripped jeans and low cut top being out of place among the antique furniture and Persian rug. She scowls at him, putting her phone down.

“Finally decided to show up?”

He bites back a comment. He broke several traffic laws to get here, it wasn’t his fault he was fourty minutes away at the time he got the call.

He glances over at Bruce and instead his eyes zero in on the child standing by the armchair Bruce was sitting in.

Just one look and he knew the boy was his.

He looks to Bruce anyway for confirmation, since he has no doubt he sent off a sample to Tim hiding like the troll he is in the basement. The man nods. Jason sucks in a deep breath and suddenly needs to sit down.

He sinks heavily in the matching armchair next to Bruce’s, separated only by a round end table. Jason can’t stop staring at those big, blue eyes that are filled with such curiosity and innocence he almost breaks down right then. But he can’t. He has to be strong. He can’t just walk away to get a handle on his emotions. He’s a dad now.

“You’re a hard man to find,” Grace folds her arms over her chest.

“I’ve been busy,” he answers lamely.

She humphs and looks away with a shake of her head.

The boy, Danny Alfred said his name was, creeps around Bruce’s legs to get closer, obviously seeing something in Jason enough to investigate. The room is quiet as they wait to see how Danny will react.

Coming to a stop right before his knees, Danny stares up at the large man with lots of scars and muscles from what he can see. He wasn’t scared. There was just something familiar that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He looks… he looks like… and he also feels almost like…

Furrowing his brows in a pout, he knows his Mommy doesn’t like it when he does it, but he still makes his eyes burn with green.

The man gasps and his eyes also swirl into an angry green.

“Daddy?” Danny asks with hope and joy.

Daddy swallows and then nods.

“Yea, buddy, I’m your dad.”

“Daddy!” The boy cheers, jumping in place with a wide smile. “Daddy! Mommy, look! It’s Daddy!”

Danny wastes no time climbing into the man’s lap and wrapping his arms around him as far as they’ll go (not very far) to press his ear to Jason’s chest over his heart. He’s practically vibrating with excitement and Jason makes sure to set a large hand on his back to hold him close.

“I fuckin’ knew it,” Grace hisses, her eyes wide at the display earlier. Both of their eyes had returned to their calmer blue and teal color, but everyone in the room saw it. “I knew he got it from you.”

His eyes narrow in warning, pulling the boy closer to his chest. He sets a hand over Danny’s exposed ear to protect him from the harsh words he’s probably already heard before.

“Do you have any idea how creepy it is to deal with a tantrum when your kid has fucking glowing green eyes?”

“Did you hit him?” Jason growls, the vibrations seeming to settle Danny even more.

“Please, I’m not my mother,” she dismisses with a sneer.

Could have fooled him.

“Everything was fine until he started doing freaky shit. I don’t know how to raise a meta kid, alright?”

“What are you talking about?”

Now he was just confused. What stuff was Danny doing that Grace thought he was a meta?

“Don’t try to pretend you don’t have powers too,” she points viciously.

“I’m not pretending. I don’t have powers. I don’t have the meta gene. What can he do?” He demands while being transparently clear.

She just glares back at him, obviously not believing him. That didn’t exactly matter at the moment.

“What can he do?” He repeats with emphasis.

She puckers her lips like she’s tasted something sour and then lifts her chin.

“Why doesn’t he just show you, huh? Danny- Would you stop babying him? Danny, show him the things you can do.”

After Jason takes the hand off the boy’s head, Danny turns to his mother warily.

“But you don’t like it,” he reminds, like she forgot.

“He wants to see it, so show him,” she waves a hand at Jason like he just asked for something he would regret.

Danny leans back to look up at his dad.

“You won’t get mad? Or scared?”

He sounds so unsure and scared. As if Jason could ever hate him. Jason really wants to punch something. Preferably something with her face on it.

“I promise I won’t.”

Another parent might have something more profound to say to reassure their child, but Jason was just starting out and honestly, it was more than Bruce would ever say.

Danny thinks for a second before wiggling to get down. He looks back once more at his mother who gives him a ‘get on with it’ motion.

The boy fidgets a little before covering his face with two hands like he’s playing hide and seek, then- disappears. Jason jerks at watching his son blink out of sight like a Martian.

“Boo!” Danny pops back into view, exactly where he was standing before with his hands out like any child on Halloween.

Jason blinks and then starts laughing. This was karma. Danny could literally become invisible, something the Bats train to do for years.

“That was good, buddy,” Jason chuckles, ruffling the kid’s hair.

Danny hesitantly smiles back, a bit of hope and pride in those eyes.

“There’s more,” Grace interrupts, seemingly uneasy with how well Jason reacted.

“Yea?” Jason directs to Danny, his focus on his son.

Danny gives a shaky nod, glancing over worriedly at Bruce who is just silently watching. Jason could see the tension in his shoulders but also the intrigue.

The boy places a hand on the coffee table and focuses on his hand. It took a few minutes of concentration before Danny’s hand went through the table like he was just dunking his hand in a pool instead of through a solid object.

He pulls his hand out and they could see it be slightly translucent.

“That one’s harder to do when I want to,” Danny mumbles.

“You mean it mostly happens on accident?”

Danny nods.

“I drop a lot. And get stuck sometimes.”

Yea, Jason can see how that could be a problem. He can’t imagine how terrified Danny was the first time a body part got stuck in an immovable object. He really wishes he could have been there for him in his panic.

“The last thing is hard too. But I’ve been practicing. Watch!”

Danny jumps once, twice, and on the third time he lingers in the air, coming down slowly like someone in water or astronauts on the moon. Danny pushes off the ground a fourth time, this time floating steadily higher like gravity meant nothing to him.

Despite the kid obviously have done this before and enjoying it with his giggles, Jason stands under him in case he falls. And falls he does. Suddenly, like the strings being cut and gravity taking hold of him again, Danny plummets into Jason waiting arms. The boy grunts on impact and then smiled sheepishly up at his dad.

“Sorry, Daddy. I promise I’m doing better.”

“That’s okay, squirt. I’m glad I was here to catch you.”

Jason plops back into the chair with his child in his lap.

“Anything else up that sleeve of yours?” He teases but is equally as serious.

Danny shakes his head enough to make his hair fluff. Jason looks to Grace for confirmation and sees she is still recovering from Danny’s fall out of the air. How many times has she had to catch him? Or wasn’t able to catch him?

She clears her throat.

“I don’t know if it’s part of it, but he never gets sick. Never even had a cough.”

Children always get sick, that’s how they build immune systems. For Danny to have never gotten even a cold, Jason doesn’t know if it’s worrying or a good thing.

“Any allergies?” Is the first thing on his mind, thinking of what Alfred will need to know.

She shakes her head with a negative hum.

“In one of the bags is a folder with all of his documents. Birth certificate, immunizations, doctor visits. I also made a list of some favorite things and things he hates. It has foods on there too.”

That was… honestly more than he was expecting from her. But it also cements the fact that she intended to drop him off with him and then never see them again. She raised him for four years and she doesn’t even want visitation? Does she not understand there are legal documents she needs to sign to transfer custody properly?

“There are some things you need to sign, but it will take some time to get it sorted,” Bruce chimes in all business.

Long nails swipe through the air like signing her rights away was trivial.

“My phone number and address are on one of the documents. Just tell me when and where.”

She stands to leave and Jason can feel Danny tense up.

“Are we leaving?” He asks worriedly, climbing down from his seat on his dad’s lap. He didn’t want to go.

“You’re staying here. With your dad,” Grace says shortly, not once looking at the boy.

“Are you going home to get the rest of our stuff?”

“No. I’m going home. You’re staying here. End of story.”

Danny visibly thinks on that for a second then scampers after his mother as she leaves the room.

“Is it like Robbie where his mom lives in one ‘partment and his dad lives in a different one?”

Grace sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She’s clearly flustered and is showing it as irritation, but Jason can’t help but trail behind in case she says something that she shouldn’t.

“No, Danny, it’s not like Robbie. I- I am leaving you here and I’m not coming back, okay?”

Jason takes a step forward to draw her attention and send her a look that says ‘choose your words carefully, this is a conversation he will remember for a long time’.

“But- but why? Is it ‘cuz of my things? I’m sorry I scared you, Mommy. I didn’t mean to. I won’t do them again, promise.”

Jason grits his teeth at how desperate his son sounds, trying to keep his mother with him. Even making a promise he can’t keep.

Grace finally looks at her baby. Sees the turmoil and tears in his baby blue eyes. She gets down on her knees to get level and places her hands on his tiny shoulders.

“You will do them again and that’s not a bad thing. Your things are part of you. That’s okay. You’re not in any trouble. I just- I’m in over my head here, Danny. I can’t take care of you the way you should be taken care of, okay? But your dad can, I hope. So I’m leaving you here. With him.”

Danny’s lip wobbles and she has to restrain herself from not hugging him like she always does when he’s upset.

“Then- then you’ll visit, right? Like Chase’s grandma visits him?”

Why is this so hard?

“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you’re gonna see me again. I’m sorry.”

Danny is silent for a while. He wipes his eyes and sniffs.

“Are you goin’ ‘way like Jamal’s dad?”

The ten year old in the same building as them lost his dad in a wrong place wrong time type situation. Jamal had told Danny his dad went away forever so he couldn’t see him again. Grace had told him that when people go away forever, they get put among the stars he loves so much to be remembered.

Grace wears such a pained expression Jason half thought she was about to burst into tears.

“Kinda,” she nods. “So give me a big hug, okay?”

Danny was in her arms before she finished speaking. Jason didn’t exactly know why she wanted to stop all contact, but he had a theory that if Danny really was a meta (and with his powers he was leaning toward believing it) then Grace would want to distance herself as much as possible to protect them both. He met her in Crime Alley, he knew they didn’t live in a good spot. If any one of those crooks saw Danny use any of his powers, they could steal him easily from his single mother. She didn’t want to give those kind of people leverage to get Danny and sell him off. She wasn’t trying to be cruel, she was just trying to do what was best for her kid, even if that meant cutting her out of his life.

He had a strange new respect for her he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Grace takes a heavy breath and pulls away showing Danny’s tear stained cheeks. She wipes them like it would do anything.

“I gotta go now, Danny.”

“No,” he cries and Jason’s heart breaks a little more.

“We gotta say goodbye now. Please.”

Grace is just barely hanging on. Jason knows as soon as she walks out that door she’ll break down.

“I don’t want to. Don’t want you to leave,” Danny whines, trying to keep a strong grip on his mother.

She holds his hands in hers and gives him a serious look.

“You’re going to be fine. You’re gonna be just fine with your dad.” She leans in and whispers, “You’re not alone, Danny. You are never alone. Just look up. Look at the stars, baby, and you’ll be okay.”

Danny pouts, but thinks about those words.

“I like the stars,” he mumbles.

She smiles, probably the first one in a while.

“I know you do.”

She kisses his forehead one last time and stands. Danny whines. She steps away.

“Bye-bye, Danny. I- I love you.”

“Mommy,” he cries, tears and snot coming full force now.

Jason can’t take anymore and picks up his son to hold on his hip.

“It’s okay, buddy. I got you,” he assures. He turns to Grace who is having the internal battle of her life in the foyer. “I got him.”

It’s an assurance to her too, that he will take care of Danny, that he would be there for him. It was a promise.

Grace sees it for what it is and leaves out the front door without another word.

Danny screams and cries and struggles, but Jason holds on tight, scared he’ll fall or use his powers to get away and disappear. The man walks back to the drawing room so his son wasn’t staring at the door longingly.

As soon as Jason sits down, Danny struggles harder since they stopped moving. So Jason stands again, adjusting the boy in his arms and starts pacing a path around the room.

Bruce has already disappeared, not knowing what to do with a heartbroken child crying his eyes out. Alfred has cleared away the tray of snacks, leaving two waters on the table, one in a small, plastic cup. Jason spies Damian poke his head in for a second to see what the matter was, and upon seeing no immediate threat went off wherever. Other than that, father and son were alone to figure themselves out.

Danny was going through a lot for a toddler and Jason didn’t exactly know how to handle what happened either. He tried his best with speaking reassurances into the boy’s hair, but he didn’t know if Danny even heard him over his own crying.

It was a rough first meeting to be frank, but after a while (what felt like ages) Danny cried himself to sleep and Jason felt it safe to finally sprawl out on the loveseat with the boy laying on his chest. Compared to a grueling patrol, that was definitely worse. He never wanted to have to go through that again, but knew as a dad it was part of the job description.

[writteninscarlet]

“I actually believe fear a rather reasonable response to life. And anger it’s more productive relative.”

open mini

[missdollcouture]

APPROACHING PEOPLE

✶: approaching people, especially today, can be difficult due to insecurities, lack of social interaction, anxiety, or whatever other fears one could have when it comes to this topic.

CONVERSATION STARTERS

✶: not knowing what to say is typically a big reason we don't approach people. starting up conversation may seem difficult depending on the person you are trying to talk to. my biggest tips are to either find something you both find interest in, talk about everyday topic (school, hobbies, music, etc), or starting off with a compliment. here's some conversation starter examples!!

✶- "I love your shirt, where's it from?" (starting off with a compliment often helps you give off more of a friendly approach that may make it easier for them to talk to you. asking questions often leads to more conversation!!)

✶- (classmate) "the test was more challenging than I thought, how'd it go for you?" (finding common things to conversate over gives you both a flow for conversation. you could also change this around for a workspace or another setting)

MINDSET

✶-cultivating a new mindset could definitely play a huge part on how you interact or approach people. we often feel self conscious about things like out appearance, our mannerisms, etcetera, when it comes to talking to new people.

✶- believe it or not, 90% of the time, the people we talk to don't even know the tiny things you're beating yourself up over. so changing your mindset could make a huge difference when it comes to approaching others.

✶- for example: instead of having the mindset of "they're looking at my hair because it looks bad", instead, think "they're looking at my hair because my hair looks extra good today" (this may take a little bit of delusion 😉)

[partyven0m]

I've said this before but I'll say it again, I LOVE YOUR KRIS FICS!!!!! So I was thinking about you doing something similar to the fic where the reader has a fat crush on Kris, but KRIS who has a fat crush on the reader, they would be a fucking loser and something like that, but yk like in their way

'We used to whisper, now we just talk'

In which... you and kris used to be close friends as children, but as you gained popularity, the two of you became strangers. Yet even after believing you've forgotten all about them, Kris still can't let you go. (notes at the end !! ;B )

Detention wasn’t new to Kris.

Not that they got it often, really. They just had a habit of being nearby when Susie decided to do something objectively stupid.

This time it had been naming the two of them “dih” and “ass” when playing Kahoot as a class.

Susie bailed 5 minutes into detention. Said she had to “pee” and never came back. Kris didn’t bother covering for her.

Alphys paced back and forth at the front of the classroom, fiddling with her hands like she’d just committed a crime.

“I-It’s not that I want to do this.” she mumbled, voice shaking more than usual. “It’s just– Undyne said I need to, um, ‘lay down the law’ a little more? Something about backbone? Discipline? But I don’t–this is too much, I think–I mean, you’re not even the one who– this is probably unfair–"

Kris stared blankly ahead, chin resting in their hand. They blinked once, slowly.

“Okay.” Alphys said eventually, caving. “You can go. Or not. It’s up to you. Or– no pressure. You can leave, though. Please.”

She shuffled out of the classroom in a hurry, nearly dropping her clipboard on the way out. The door clicked shut behind her.

Kris didn’t move. Didn’t have to.

They leaned back in their chair, slowly digging around in their pocket until they pulled out their 3DS. It was covered in scratches and spots where the paint had chipped, adorned with half rubbed off and faded stickers.

They booted up Pokémon. It loaded with a happy little jingle that echoed in the quiet classroom.

Their save file was right where they left it, just outside a Pokécenter. They scrolled through their party out of habit.

Their starter blinked up at them.

Same name as always.

Yours.

They stared at it for a second. Not too long but just long enough.

They had named their first ever partner pokémon after you when they were 9. It wasn’t even supposed to be a big thing. You were just... their best friend back then. The person they cared about the most. 

And now? Years later?

It had became a tradition.

Kris let out a tiny breath through their nose and slumped forward, resting their forehead against the desk. Their thumb moved slowly over the controls. Half-playing. Half-thinking.

It was raining outside.

They didn’t really notice until the thunder started.

Then they glanced toward the window. Watched the water fall down the glass in slow, squiggly lines. Everything outside was gray and dripping, and kind of pretty in a way that made you want to fall asleep.

They wondered what you were doing right now.

Still at club, probably. You were the president of something. A few somethings, maybe. You always had people around you, laughing, talking, helping with things. You had that kind of face. Easy to go to. Easy to like.

Kris stared at the screen without really looking at it.

You probably didn’t even remember what day you two stopped hanging out. Probably didn’t notice the last time you two spoke. They wouldn’t blame you. It was just one of those things that happened slowly, like bangs getting too long or gold stars peeling off the wall.

But still.

Sometimes they caught themselves looking for you in crowded halls. Sometimes they noticed the way your laugh sounded even when you were two rooms over. Sometimes they– okay, they always– named their Pokémon after you.

Just because.

The screen blinked. Their starter fainted again.

. . .

After an hour or so of mindlessly grinding in their Pokémon world, they yawned, closing the 3DS and sitting up, rubbing the back of their neck.

The thunder rumbled closer now. The rain was coming down even harder than before.

They figured they’d head out. Not home. Just… out.

So they stood up.

legs feeling weird from sitting too long. They stretched a little, then shoved their hands in their hoodie pocket and walked out of the classroom.

The halls were completely empty now. A lot of the lights had already been turned off. The whole building felt still and slow.

They pushed the front doors open.

The rain was deafening. It hit the pavement in fast, loud drops. Big puddles had already started to form near the sidewalk.

Kris stood there for a second, holding the door open, watching.

Then they stepped outside, just far enough to sit on the front steps. The awning shielding them from the rain. The air smelled like wet concrete and grass.

They sat down, pulled their hood up, and rested their arms on their knees.

After a moment, they reached into their hoodie and pulled out their 3DS.

They stared at it in their hands. Thought about opening it. Didn’t really want to. But there was nothing else to do.

So their thumb slowly glided over the on button, just before-

“…Kris?”

They froze before slowly turning towards the voice.

It was you.

You had just stepped outside, holding a folder against your chest, like you were keeping warm. Your backpack hung off one shoulder and you looked surprised to see them.

You stepped under the awning, letting the door swing shut behind you.

“What are you still doing here?”

Kris blinked up at you silently. They didn’t say anything right away.

Their hand tightened a little around the 3DS. Their face felt warm.

“…Just waiting out the rain.” they said finally. Tried to make it sound casual.

You nodded. “Makes sense. It’s coming down pretty hard.”

You stepped closer, dropping your bag on the ground with a soft thud. Then sat next to them on the steps, a little space between you.

Kris glanced sideways. Then immediately looked forward again.

You rested the folder on your lap and sighed. “I heard Susie got you in trouble again?”

“…Yeah.”

You snorted.

Kris felt their ears get hot.

You leaned back on your hands, staring out at the road. “Is it like Ms. Alphys to give out detention? She seems too shy…”

Kris shook their head a little as they looked away. “Didn’t last long.”

“Figured. Your class seems fun to be in.” You muttered happily under your breath.

There was a pause. Not awkward. Just quiet.

Rain hit the pavement in a steady rhythm. Street totally empty.

You didn’t say anything else for a moment. You just sat there. Calm. Like this was nothing strange. Like it was totally normal to be sitting next to each other again after all this time.

Kris didn’t move. Didn’t trust themselves to.

Their heart was beating faster than it should have been.

They kept their head down, hiding behind their bangs a little.

They weren’t sure why you were talking to them. Or why you sat down. But they weren’t going to move.

Kris had liked you for a long time. Maybe longer than they even realized. When you were kids, you were close, basically best friends. You’d run around the playground together, sharing secrets and silly games. Kris thought you were the brightest, most wonderful person they’d ever known.

But as you grew up, things changed. You became more popular, always surrounded by new friends, laughing easily with people Kris didn’t know. It wasn’t that you forgot Kris completely. It was just... you slipped out of reach. Like trying to hold onto light.

No matter how much time passed, Kris couldn’t let go of their feelings. They told themselves it was just a phase, or that maybe you had already forgotten them. But deep down, their heart held onto you. It was like a quiet hope that kept flickering.

As they got a little older Kris would snap whenever their mom or brother asked them how you were doing. Not because they didn’t care. It was the opposite. It hurt too much to talk about you. So they’d get quiet or change the subject. After a while, they both knew to stop asking. 

They didn’t know how to move on, and honestly, they weren’t sure they wanted to.

You leaned back a little, stretching your legs out in front of you.

“You ever get the feeling the day’s been way longer than it should be?” you asked.

Kris glanced over. You weren’t looking at them, just watching the rain hit the pavement.

They nodded. “Yeah.”

They didn't get that feeling at all. In fact they had no clue what you were talking about, but they knew that they liked your voice and it sounded like something you'd say. So they nodded anyway.

You smiled faintly. “Feels like it should be tomorrow already."

Then there was another pause.

A quiet one. Not awkward. Just quiet.

You hugged the folder closer to your chest.

“…It’s kinda weird seeing you here.” you said. “Not bad weird. Just, I don’t know. We don’t really talk anymore, huh?”

Kris froze for half a second.

They kept their eyes forward, toward the sidewalk, pretending that sentence didn’t land exactly where it hurt.

“…Yeah.” they said quietly.

You tilted your head a little, thoughtful. “We used to hang out all the time.”

Kris swallowed. “Then we just stopped.”

They said it before they could think. And as soon as the words were out, they wished they hadn’t.

You were quiet for a second and they found themselves hoping you hadn't heard them over the rain.

“Yeah.” you said. “We did.”

You didn’t sound sad. Just honest.

Kris felt their hands curl tighter in their sleeves. Their heart was beating fast. They didn’t know why they felt embarrassed, it wasn’t like you’d said anything mean. But something about the way you remembered it made everything worse. Or better. They couldn’t tell.

Your voice was a little softer now.

“I still think about that sometimes.” you said.

Kris went still.

You weren’t even looking at them. Just out toward the rain. Like you were talking to the air more than anything.

“When we used to hang out,” you added. “after school. Before stuff got… busy, I guess.”

Your tone was light. Easy. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

But Kris’s chest tightened anyway. They kept their eyes on the ground. 

You shifted a little beside them.

“There was that one day,” you said, “where we got in trouble for splashing water at each other outside. You remember that? You had that weird plastic dinosaur in your pocket and it got soaked.”

Kris blinked.

Their voice came out low. Barely there.

“…You remember that?”

You turned toward them now. Not dramatic. Not intense. Just surprised they even had to ask.

“Yeah?” you said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Kris didn’t answer right away.

They looked down again. 

They thought about that stupid plastic dinosaur. It had been orange. It smelled weird after it dried. They’d kept it in their drawer for years, even after the paint chipped off.

They thought they were the only one who remembered that day.

They thought you’d forgotten everything.

“…I dunno.” Kris mumbled.

Their voice felt small. Embarrassing. But they didn’t take it back.

You didn’t laugh at them. You just smiled a little, like you understood.

There was a quiet moment after that.

Just the sound of the rain.

“You were kind of my first real friend, you know.”

That made Kris turn to look at you.

You weren’t trying to be sentimental. You said it like it was just a fact.

“I didn’t really talk to people much before that,” you went on. “but then you just kinda… let me follow you around. Even when I was being annoying.”

Kris shook their head. “You weren’t.”

You looked at them again. You were still smiling, but there was something shy behind it now. Like saying this out loud felt a little strange for you, too.

“You made stuff feel easy back then,” you said. “I think that’s what made me want to talk to more people.”

Kris didn’t know what to say.

Their throat felt tight. Their heart felt like it was sitting right at the base of their tongue.

They hadn’t even realized they were gripping the edge of their hoodie until they forced their hands to relax.

You looked away again, back toward the rain.

“I guess I just never said thanks.” you said.

Kris stared at you.

You weren’t even looking at them. Just watching the rain, like you hadn’t said anything weird. Like that wasn’t the nicest thing anyone had ever said to them.

They looked down again, fiddling with the drawstring of their hoodie.

You remembered.

They didn’t know why that made their face feel so hot. Or their chest kind of floaty. It was just… a lot. In a weird, sweet way.

They’d thought about those afternoons a million times. You and them, stomping through puddles, getting scolded by teachers. Laughing so hard it made their stomach hurt. You used to talk so much back then. About everything.

They always figured you forgot. Or grew out of it.

But you didn’t.

You were sitting right here, saying you missed it. That it mattered. That they mattered.

Kris pressed their sleeve to their mouth for a second. Just so they didn’t have to figure out what their face was doing.

Their heart felt like it was trying to walk in shoes too big.

You nudged your foot gently against theirs.

“I didn’t mean to make it weird.” you said. “I just think about that stuff sometimes. That’s all.”

Kris shook their head quickly.

“It’s not weird.” they said. Too fast. “I–It’s not.”

You smiled again. Just a little. Not looking at them.

Kris stared down at your foot next to theirs. It wasn’t even touching. Just close.

They kind of couldn’t believe any of this was real.

“We should talk more.” you said.

Kris’s heart stuttered.

They looked down so fast it was almost embarrassing.Their bangs fell in front of their eyes, and they didn’t bother brushing them away.

“…Okay.” they said, barely above a whisper.

You didn’t laugh. Didn’t act like it was weird. You just smiled, soft and normal, like this was the most casual thing in the world.

“Cool,” you said. “we’ll start now, then.”

Kris could barely breathe.

They curled their hands tighter into the sleeves of their hoodie, trying to act normal, but they could feel their face burning. It wasn’t fair, how easy it was for you to say stuff like that. How you could sit next to them, say we should talk more, and smile like it was that simple. Like it didn’t just completely ruin them.

They’d spent so long convincing themselves you were out of reach.

And now you were right here.

Talking to them like you wanted to be close again.

They couldn’t even think straight.

“…What do we talk about?” they asked, too quiet. Their voice was shaky, and they hated that you might’ve heard it.

You didn’t say anything for a second.

Then you turned to them, eyes soft. “You pick.”

Kris froze.

That was the worst possible answer.

You pick?They could talk about a hundred things. What you liked, who your friends were now, your favorite colors. They could ask if you still ate your cereal dry or if you still doodled on your math homework like you used to.

They could ask if you ever thought about them.

Like they thought about you.

But none of those things were safe.

So instead they mumbled, “I’m… still bad at Pokémon.”

You laughed again.

You leaned back a little, grinning. “Good.” you said. “That’s how it should be. I’d be worried if you were suddenly, like, good.”

Kris pressed their sleeve to their mouth again, like they could hide the smile trying to creep up.

You sat back again, arms stretched behind you on the step, legs kicked out in front. Like you weren’t in any rush at all.

“…Y’know,” you said after a minute, “you’re kinda different from how I remember.”

Kris blinked. Their whole body tensed.

You didn’t sound judgmental or weird about it. Just thoughtful. Casual.

Kris shifted in their seat. “Different how?”

You hummed, thinking.

“Dunno.” you said. “You’re still quiet. But I guess I thought you’d be, like… meaner now.”

Kris stared.

“…Mean?”

You laughed. “I don’t know! You’ve got that whole scary hallway stare thing going on.”

Kris’s ears went red. “That’s just my face…”

“Yeah.” you grinned. “I figured that out today.”

Kris let out a tiny sound that might’ve been a laugh. 

You turned your head slightly, your voice softer now.

“I’m glad you’re still you, though.”

Kris stared at you for a second too long.

Then their mouth moved before their brain caught up.

“You’re different too.” they said.

You blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah. I mean–” Kris looked down fast. Their thumb rubbed at a loose thread on their sleeve. “Not in a bad way. Just. You seem more…”

They trailed off, trying to find the right word. It was hard to explain what they meant without sounding stupid.

“…Content.” they said finally. “You seem… okay. With everything. With school. People. Life.”

You tilted your head a little, curious, but didn’t say anything.

Kris swallowed. “It’s not like you weren’t before, I just– back then you didn’t talk to anyone but me, really. And now you’re–”

They stopped again. Their ears were burning.

You were still just watching them. Patient.

Kris hesitated.

They wanted to say they were happy for you. That it was cool seeing you like this. That you deserved it.

“…Sometimes I feel like I was there first.”

You blinked.

Kris still wasn’t looking at you. Just down at the wet concrete.

“I knew you before everyone else.” they mumbled. “When it was just us. And now you’re–”

Everyone’s.

They didn’t say that part. But they didn’t have to.

The words sat between you both, quiet and strange. Kris felt like shrinking into their hoodie and disappearing.

But they meant it.

They’d been proud of you. Always.

But deep down, it stung. How easily other people got to be close to you now. How they got your laughs and your inside jokes and your after-school stories.

When Kris had been the one there first. The one who remembered every little thing.

The one who never stopped thinking about you.

Yet as soon as they said it, they regretted it. Their whole chest clenched up.

Too honest. Too weird. Too much.

They bit the inside of their cheek and looked away, heart thudding like a drum in their ears.

You blinked. For a second, you didn’t say anything.

Then, quietly, “…I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Kris didn’t respond. Just stared hard at the step below them.

They hadn’t meant to say that. Not really. Not like that. They weren’t even sure what they did mean, just that it had been sitting in their chest for years.

A slow, quiet ache with no name.

There were too many things they remembered about you.

The way you used to swing your legs under your desk in elementary school. The way your laugh cracked a little when you were caught off guard. The way you used to look back at them during class like you were waiting for them to make some dumb face to keep you from falling asleep.

Every time you smiled at someone else now, Kris felt like it should’ve been them.

They knew it wasn’t fair. They knew it was stupid.

But still, some part of them, childish and stubborn, kept whining, I knew you first.

You shifted beside them.

“I always kind of thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.” you said, your voice quiet. Thoughtful. A little uncertain.

Kris shook their head fast. “That’s not it.”

You looked at them then. Not teasing. Not amused. Just surprised. Like you were trying to see something you hadn’t let yourself see before.

“Yeah, I guess I really had no reason to think that… We should’ve talked sooner.” you said.

...

“Sorry.” you added, voice softer now.

That made Kris glance at you.

You weren’t looking at them anymore, your eyes were down, hands curled in your lap, like you weren’t sure if you’d said too much too.

And Kris… God, they wanted something so simple.

They wanted to rewind everything. Back to when things were easy. Back to muddy shoes and shared gummy bears and rainy days where you grabbed their wrist before they could even respond.

They wanted to hand you their umbrella. Walk you home. Carry your backpack for no reason. Tell you they liked your smile and mean it so hard their whole chest hurt.

They wanted you to know that no matter how much time had passed, they’d never really let go.

Not even a little.

Even now, they caught themselves daydreaming about things that didn’t make sense, like you resting your head on their shoulder during a bus ride, or pulling them into a photo on your phone and saving it as your lock screen. Stuff that made them cringe, but felt good anyway.

Stuff they wanted more than they could say.

They glanced back down at their lap. Tried to stay still. Tried not to mess it up more.

Maybe you didn’t feel the same way. Maybe you never did.

But you were here now.

And that had to mean something. Right?

“I’m really glad I ran into you today.”

Kris didn’t know what to do with that. Their hands twisted in their sleeves. Their eyes dropped to their lap again.

“…Yeah.” they said. “Me too.”

You smiled at the sidewalk. Said nothing for a moment.

Then you sat forward a little and quickly shoved your folder into your backpack.

“…Hey.” you said, half-smiling, like you were thinking something dumb. “Wanna run?”

Kris blinked. “What?”

You looked over at them, grinning before quickly standing up and adjusting the strap of your backpack. “Home. Wanna book it?”

“It’s still pouring.”

“I know.”

Kris stared up at you. “You’ll get drenched.”

You shrugged. “So will you.”

There was a beat.

 “Okay, yeah. Dumb idea.” 

You said with a small laugh as you plopped back down onto the step.

Kris didn’t say anything. They couldn’t. Their chest felt too tight.

“It’s childish.” you added, a lot softer now.

And something about the way you said it, like you missed it, even just for a second, made their stomach twist.

They caught it in your voice. That small drop. That flicker of something like disappointment.

It hit them all at once. You wanted to go. You wanted to run. You wanted them to say yes.

And if they sat here and let that pass, if they had to watch your face fall even a little, they were going to lose their mind.

So before they could even think about what they were doing, Kris reached out and grabbed your hand.

You turned fast, startled, but Kris was already standing, already tugging you down the steps.

“Wait–”

Your voice barely registered.

Because when you looked up at them, Kris wasn’t even looking back. Their head was turned slightly away, their brows furrowed, their face bright red, like just holding your hand was already too much.

But they didn’t let go.

They pulled you down into the rain.

And you laughed, breathless. “Are you serious–?!”

Water splashed around your ankles. Rain slipped down your sleeves and soaked through your top in seconds. The sky was still gray but the clouds had started to open up, letting rays of light through.

You kept running.

Kris kept holding on.

And if you noticed how tightly they were gripping your hand, how determined their face was, like they couldn’t bear the idea of letting you down, you didn’t say anything.

You just squeezed back.

.  .  .

“Well that was a dumb fucking idea.”

Kris nodded. 

You two took cover under a bus stop as the rain got heavier and your legs tired. Soaked, cold, and worn out bodies shivering, looking out into the street with blank faces. 

“I’ll call someone to pick us up.” 

“My socks are wet…”

. . .

EDIT: GUYS. I just reread the ask and honestly i feel so bad AURBHHH BEAHHHH like i think i rlly did lose the plot… they were barely a loser 😞😞 ill take this as my sign to not take too much time writing something bc ugh I literally forgot the entire plot I’m so sad

a/n!! hihihihihi tysm for requestinggg 1!!1!111 not TOOO happy with this honestly! rereading it, it feels all over the place and thats most likely bc i took day long breaks from working on it so idk it just felt like i was writing it in sections and they dont quite connect right ykwim??? but i hope u like it regardless!

thought making u guys imagine what kinda pokemon kris saw u as would be fun!! sorry again for the kinda of sudden ending, i honestly just rlly like writing them i think. like open endings to me r so fun IDKIDK!!!!

again THANKS SMMM for the request!!!1!1 rlly hope u like ittt lmk!!!!

(title is a paraphrased lyric from Caraphernelia by pierce the veil WHO I SAW 3 DAYS AGO AHH BEST CONCERT EVERRRR ok bye love u)

[jarofstyles]

Merlot

Hello my lovely ducklings. I promised a good age gap DILF sorta thing and I’m here to hand ‘em over. He’s getting some silver at the temples and she’s loving every second of it. Let me know what you think 🍷

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second part and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 8k

Warnings- age gap, dilfrry, smut, oral (m + f receiving) unprotected sex (please wrap it up irl), exhibitionism, daddy kink if you squint, and all the fun stuff.

“I hate to ask this cliche question, and it absolutely pains me to ask in such an uncouth way- but do you come here often?” Peeking over the rim of the glass, amber liquid brushed his top lip and the ice cubs clanked as the smoky liquor hit his tongue.

God knew what he was doing- the girl in front of him looked too young for him, but she had struck up the conversation first. Commenting on his silver lion’s head ring and asking where he’d gotten it, wide eyed and eager as she looked up at him with that pretty pout and mascara coated lashes. Perhaps it was the crippling loneliness of divorce, maybe it was the hint of a buzz of his second drink, or even a hint of desperation that had him continuing the conversation with the younger woman as she took the bar stool in front of him- but she seemed receptive. Leaning into the conversation and keeping eye contact, she played into him.

"Cliches can be cute sometimes." She laughed as she placed her own glass down, now empty. "I don't, no. I'm not one for the whole going out thing. Not anymore. I was in uni, but I think as soon as you graduate they take away your tolerance card." Rolling her eyes playfully she felt a lick of satisfaction in getting a chuckle out of him. "And what about you? Do you like to come to bars with overpriced drinks to talk to random people who decide to invade your bubble to ask where your pretty jewelry is from?"

"Well, I can't say I make a habit of it, but sometimes a man needs to escape the responsibilities of reality- and as much as I adore my pets, I think they’re tiring of hearing my voice.” He shook his head as he flexed his fingers, looking back down at the conversation starter. Pretty eyes met his own. It had been so long since he felt flustered but she had done a pretty good job at making him feel a little off kilter in the best way. A break from the mundane.

“I’ll have to agree with you on them revoking your tolerance once you exit uni. Though I will say it’s a blessing in disguise. I wasn’t terribly into partying in my last year, considering I’d started getting awful hangovers. Almost like s’bad for you, or something.” He teased, leaning against the bar top. It was clear that they’d shifted closer to each other through their conversation and he tried to not get his hopes up, but he sort of did feel like she was giving him… those sort of eyes. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends, though.”

“You’re not.” She said simply, looking up at him. Usually, facial hair wasn’t something she considered much at all. Not many around her wore it, but she had to say the longer she looked at him, the more she liked it. It was just… masculine. Rugged, in a way, but he kept it groomed. This man was interesting all around, with pretty rings and a deep raspy voice, seafoam eyes and a little tiny gray streak starting near his temple. God, that was hot. “I’m plenty happy talking to you.”

His heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, those eyes sparkling with something he hoped was interest, but at the very least looked like genuine intrigue. Nothing about their encounter led to her feeling otherwise. It was a nice change, feeling the ease of a conversation flow even if he stumbled on words when he accidentally looked down at her lips.

Fuck it.

He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "I’m glad t’hear that. You're very easy to talk to." he said, his voice low and warm. The risk was there, initiating a bit of touch, but he had fo test to waters. See where this was headed. Was she looking for a safe haven? A reliable guy who didn’t look like a creep (hopefully), someone to buy her drinks as she pitied the older man at the bar, or… was this headed the direction the heat in his belly desperately wanted.

“Am I?” Her head tilted slightly, smile slightly shy but making no effort to move from where his fingers hovered slightly. “I do get told I have problems knowing when to shut up and let things be quiet, so I suppose that tracks. It can be nice in conversations.” Especially when he had seemed slightly apprehensive of her at first and now warmed up. “You’ve got a nice voice. It’s nice to talk to you.”

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to keep talking, then." He said softly, his voice growing even warmer as he leaned in closer, his eyes flicking back down to her lips briefly before returning to her eyes.

“I agree.”

Y/N could be considered bold at times, but she liked that he was showing some effort- some interest. It was give and take, push and pull, a fun little game as she was given a perfect chance when someone else approached the bar top from behind Harry. “Oop- come ‘ere.’ She laughed, gently tugging him in as her ankle hooked around the back of his knee to tug him into her. “Someone’s tryn’ to make an order.”

Now he was closer than she had anticipated, stood between her thighs as she sat on the barstool with her leg wrapped around his. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get in your space.” The girl could feel his body heat. Fuck, he smelled so good. None of that… the familiar cheap colognes and aftershaves she was used to, not was it overpowering. Harry smelled expensive and spicy with some sort of leathery vanilla and she had to wonder what it was. "You smell really good..."

"No, no, it's fine..." He said softly, his voice trailing off as he looked down at her, their faces inches apart. He didn't move away, instead, he leaned in even closer, his hand resting on her knee. “Thank you.” The heat felt a little overwhelming in his cheeks. Pathetic to be a grown man blushing over such a simple compliment but he was so close to her now, body head radiating off of her and she smelled equally as good. “Um, so do you.”

He breathed in deeply, taking in her scent. It was a unique blend of floral notes, with a hint of citrus and a sweet, vanilla-like undertone. It was feminine, youthful, and intoxicating. Sweet and fresh. It didn’t choke him in floral and musk like the women who had been after him since his signature had barely dried on his divorce papers, but something that he vaguely remembered from his own days around her age. Perhaps that was a sign he should back off, but he couldn’t. He felt himself getting lost in the scent, his head spinning slightly as he continued to breathe her in.

His hand on her knee nearly burned but she relished in the feeling, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled slightly at him. It was her first time attempting something like this. Older men were always a thing for her, a desire, but never one she felt bold enough to go for. Now, though, she wondered why she had waited. The feeling in her stomach and the delicate way she felt under his touch was something that had her nearly giddy.

“I like the mustache.” She pointed to it. “It’s a mature look. In a good way.” Of course she didn’t want to offend him, make him feel like she was calling him old. “Guys I’m around usually can’t pull it off. But you do.” Braving a touch, she let her fingers run over his jaw and felt a slight bit of scruff. “Are y’gonna go for a full beard? Or no?”

"Maybe..." Harry murmured, leaning into her touch. "Depends on how well it's received..." The joke was cracked softly, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as she touched his face. He let his hand slide a little higher up on her thigh, squeezing gently. "Thank you for the compliment though. Was hoping it wouldn’t be a bad thing cause I noticed y’looking at it.”

“Mm, I was. It’s nice.” Sexy. Her eyes felt heavy as she watched his lips curl in a slight smile. “ I’m assuming that there’s no missus at home?” She asked lightly. “You don’t seem like a cheater, Harry.” It was a tease, but he didn’t wear a ring on his ring finger. Usually she never gave men the benefit of the doubt but selfishly, she wanted to be right so she wouldn’t feel guilty about imagining her inner thighs raw from beard burn later tonight.

"No missus." He confirmed, his thumb rubbing small circles on her thigh as he opened his eyes to look at her. "Just me, and the office. I've been too busy to think about dating, let alone finding someone serious." He admitted honestly, his gaze lingering on her face. "I mean, I was married. Briefly." He said, his expression growing slightly somber. "But that's over now. It didn't work out." He shrugged, trying to downplay it, even though the divorce had been messy and painful. "What about you? Boyfriend at home?"

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” She frowned. It wasn’t something she’d pry on because she could see it bothered him a bit, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. Nor that she didn’t feel bad. “I’m single, thank god. My last boyfriend was a complete prick.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Cheated on me a few times on a boys holiday. Was stupid enough to post with other girls and think people wouldn’t send it to me just because he hid stories from me. but it was a relief, anyways.” It sounded cold, callous maybe, but it was the truth. “It’s just me now as I figure out what to do.”’

"He sounds like an idiot." He grumbled, his hand tightening lightly on her thigh. "You're too good for that." He paused, his eyes flicking over her features. "What do you mean, figure out what to do? Like, with life?"

“Yeah. Career wise mostly. I think I want to do writing but it’s been hard to tell lately. I do that part time and then work at a cafe as a waitress and pick up shifts when I need the money. I’m tired all the time so it’s taking me longer to simply sit down and figure out 100% what I want to do but, that’s life.” She shrugged. “So I get suckered into going out to bars with my coworkers and getting a buzz so I go up to a handsome man and demand to know where his ring is from, so it suppose it isn’t all bad.”

"Writing, huh?" There was intrigue in his voice as he took in her answer. The compliment wasn’t lost on him, and it fueled that bolder part of him that wanted to break out. "Like, books, or journalism? I happen to be in publishing, so if that’s something you’d like to walk about we can…." He trailed off, his thumb continuing to rub soothing patterns on her thigh. "It’s not the easiest thing to break into but you’ve got a lot going for you. I’d be willing to help you if you feel ready.” . That was a genuine offer, regardless if he got laid… but he still felt that the way she was looking at him had an undertone

"You should come by my office sometime, if you want." He offered, his voice low. "I mean, if you're interested in publishing. We could... talk shop. Or something." He added, his hand slowly creeping higher up her thigh as he spoke.

“Or something?” She grinned widely. “Are you making a pass at me, handsome stranger Harry?” Her fingers stroked down his jaw towards his neck, messing with the collar of his shirt.

"I mean, m’being serious about helping you but… Maybe a bit of flirting is happening." He whispered, tilting his head to the side to give her better access. "I mean, you did ask where my ring was..." He pointed out softly, his hand now resting high up on her thigh, fingers spread wide, said ring gleaming in the low light. "And I haven't exactly been getting much action since the divorce..."

Eyes fell down to his hand and back up to his face, ever so slightly spreading her legs more to allow him to step closer between them. The heel of her shoe gently ran over his calf, biting lightly on her lower lip as she tried to keep the smile off her face. “And is that the only thing you want from me?”

Harry's breath hitched as she spread her legs, his heart racing at the subtle gesture. His hand tightened ever so slightly on her thigh, his fingers digging in just a bit as he leaned in closer. "No," He admitted quietly, his voice husky. "But it's a good start."

“Tell me.” She slipped her hand down to let them curl into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve never been with an older man before, Harry. Are you all just as shitty as the younger ones? Or are you better?”

Harry's eyes darkened as she slipped her hand under his shirt, the rough pad of her fingers against his skin making him shiver. "I'm better." He said confidently, his voice deep and rumbling. "I know what I want, and I know how to treat a woman."

The man’s hand tightened on her flesh as she let out a breathy sigh, his eyes never leaving hers. "With respect," He said simply. "With kindness and attention. I open doors, I pull out chairs, I make sure they're comfortable and cared for. And in bed…" There was a pause, a slight smirk on his face as he averted his gaze for a single moment.

“In bed?” She echoed, looking up at him expectantly. “Don’t keep me on edge here. I’m dying to know.”

Harry smirked at her, his hand moving higher up her thigh, stopping right at the hem of her panties. His knuckles could feel how humid she was, no denying she was wet. It was hard to keep focused, but he had to. "Well, Y/N… I make sure they're satisfied," He said, his voice low and sultry. "I take my time, I pay attention to their body, I explore and learn what makes them tick."

“So you won’t just cum and roll over and fall asleep?” She hummed, her other hand running under his blazer and over his back. “Because I’m real tired of giving it my all and barely getting a subpar orgasm out of it. It’s why I was trying to be celibate for a while…”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Not on my watch," He said, his thumb brushing against her panties. "I'll make sure you're thoroughly satisfied, multiple times if needed. I'll hold you close, kiss you, tell you how beautiful you are, while I make love to you."

“Ooo… he makes love..” She cooed, giggling lightly before leaning into whisper the next words to him. Was this an older man thing? Or a literature person sort of thing? Waxing poetically about the things he could provide, it all sounded amazing. But she had to know. “But can you fuck? Can you make me feel it for days, bruise my ass, get me so wet I ruin your sheets?”

Harry groaned quietly her words, his thumb pressing against her panties, feeling how soaked they were. "Fuck, yes." He growled under his breath, his other hand reaching up to cup her cheek. "I can be rough, I can be gentle, I can do whatever the hell you want. All y’have to do is ask."

Y/N let out a shuddering breath as his thumb brushed over her clit through her panties, looking to the side as she attempted to see if anyone was paying attention- but considering how crowded it was tonight, no one was paying them much mind. “So you’ll take me back to your place and make me cum? That’s what I want.”

Harry nodded, his thumb rubbing against her. "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll take you back to my place and make you cum so hard you'll see stars. And then I'll keep going, as long as you want, until you can't take it anymore."

“God.” The girl’s head rolled toward and thumped on his shoulder, feeling him chuckle as he rolled his thumb over her swollen clit. The lacy scrap of material she considered panties did little to hide how slick she was, the older man having plenty of fun playing with her as she turned her head and nipped her teeth into his throat.

Harry let out a low hiss at the sharp little bite, his hand still pressing against her clit through her panties. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his phone, quickly typing out a text message before putting it back in his pocket.

“W-What are you doing?” She murmured, slowly pressing her lips to his skin and staining it with her lipstick. He was casual about playing with her, acting like stroking her clit was second nature as his other hand adjusted the straps of her dress back up from where they’d begun to droop.

Harry smirked as she inquired, his thumb still making small circles against her clit. He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, "I'm sending a message to my housekeeper, to make sure the bed is prepared for when we get back to my place."

“God, M’gonna suck your dick so good.” She sighed, a tipsy giggle leaving her throat. “It’s big. I knew it was when I came over here but… shit, I’m gonna feel it for days.”

Harry grinned as she grumbled against his neck, his hand leaving her panties to grip her hip possessively. "You're going to love it, baby. I'm going to stretch your little mouth wide, and you're going to take every inch like a good girl." He crooned low in his throat. “But you need to get that pretty ass up and come t’the car with me. My driver is here.”

——-

Y/N let out a squeal of delight as Harry tossed her into his bed. His Californian King with a canopy, four postered, hand craved fucking bed frame, his shirt unbuttoned, belt undone and jacket on the floor. Her dress was over her hips and she wasn’t sure exactly how they’d gotten here, but what she was sure of was the fact that she really did like kissing him. “Kiss me.” She demanded, grabbing his scruffy face as he crawled up the bed and hovered over top of her.

Harry chuckled at her demanding tone, his mustache brushing against her lips as he obliged her request. He kissed her deeply, his hand wrapping around her jaw to pull her close. As they made out, he let go only momentarily to reach down and grab her dress, yanking it up over her head and tossing it carelessly aside.

That left her in just the pathetic excuse of lace panties, as she had forgone the bra for the sake of the dress, and there was no complaints on his end. Her hand pushed at the shoulder of his shirt, trying to get it off of him. “Want you closer.” She mumbled, leaning into him with a mewl as he pulled back to do as she asked. It was erotic and hot and she was surprised by the amount of tattoos he had, but god, did she want to see more of him.

Harry grinned, feeling her warm hands pushing at his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing her to pull it off of him. His tattoos were extensive, covering most of his arms, chest, and back. Inquisitive hands ran over her sides, marveling at her form compared to his own build.

The man bent down and started to place kisses along her collarbone and up her neck. His rough hands squeezed her sides gently, thumbs brushing along her ribs. He continued to kiss and nibble at her neck, his facial hair tickling her sensitive skin. He whispered, "Wrap your legs around my waist, baby."

She did as asked, eyes fluttering shut as she could feel him through his trousers. Of course, she’d been right. The man’s cock was big like she had expected, and it was thick. Throbbing against her through the fabric, her mouth watered slightly as she rubbed herself against him, fingers finding his hair as he made his way down her throat. “Fuck, it’s been so long.” The slight scratching of the facial hair only made her feel more sensitive, like she was on a live wire. It was decided that she definitely liked it now.

Harry groaned at her words, the sound coming out more like a rumble from his chest. He continued to kiss and nip at her throat as she ground herself against him. His hands squeezed and gripped her ass, encouraging her movements. "God, you feel so damn good, and m’not even inside you yet."

Harry paused for a moment, looking up at her with a heated gaze. "You're so precious, so sweet... I've never been with anyone like you before." His voice was gruff, filled with desire. He ran his hands up her sides, marveling at her smooth skin. The curves, the indents, all of it was new and exciting.

“No?” She asked softly. “I’ve never been with an older man either. Kinda like it.” There was no hesitation in admitting it. “Was your ex wife not good to you, Harry?”

Harry's expression darkened briefly at the mention of his ex-wife. "She wasn't... attentive. And she certainly never looked at me the way you are now." He buried his face in her neck once more, kissing and nuzzling her skin.

“No?” It was astounding. “I don’t know how. If I had a man like you…” She let out a breathy laugh. “You’d have to pry me off of you. you are so attractive, so sweet… Can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be all over you, all the time.” It wasn’t something she could really understand. She barely knew the guy but she liked what she saw, and she liked it a lot.

Harry's heart swelled with pride at her words. He felt his ego growing a bit, having this beautiful young woman fawn over him. "I think she was always more interested in the status and prestige that came with being married to me, rather than actually being in love with me." It wasn’t something he liked to think about but in this instance he felt okay with it. If it hadn't ended, he wouldn’t end up here.

His lips continued to kiss and caress Y/N, his hands roaming over her curves almost in awe of what he had his hands on. It wasn’t what he had expected. People watching at the bar was his goal, really. He had one night stands a few times but he didn’t necessarily want this to be a one time sorta of thing. Not when she smelled this good and her lips tasted like cherry wine. He wanted to know what books she liked just as much as he wanted to know how she looked when she came. "But now I have you in my bed, and you're looking at me like I'm the most desirable man you've ever seen, so I think m’doing okay." He crooned, nipping at her neck.

“Because you are.” The girl purred. “All man and power in the best way. Not socially, but in what you are. You exude it.” Her cunt rubbed against him, making her eyes lull. “I knew you’d have a big dick. Knew it just walking up, how you stood. I wanted it inside of me.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his voice a deep rumble. "Is that right? You wanted me inside you from the moment you saw me?" His hands gripped her backside firmly, spreading her cheeks as she ground against him. "Well, you're going to get it, baby."

“Mmm… I want it now.”

Y/N nearly whimpered as he pulled away but quickly shut up as she watched him stand up, hands working the button of his trousers. It took her seconds to lift up and get on her knees in front of him, shooing his hands away to take over. it had been months since she’d given head and while she wasn’t a normal lover of it, she had been dying to get her hands on him.

Harry watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she pushed his hands away and undid his pants herself. He bit his lower lip as she slowly revealed what she'd been craving. "You don't have to do that, baby." He said hoarsely, knowing full well that he wanted her to- but he wouldn’t make her. It would be more than okay if he focused on her. He got off on giving, and that’s what he focused on.

“Need to.” She gave him a look as she slowly tugged the zipper down, guiding his trousers down before palming him over his briefs. “Fuck, I’m gonna be full of this.”

Harry let out a low moan at her grip and the words that followed. The image of her full and well used was enough to send any red-blooded man to their knees, but he just stood there in front of her, letting her take control, letting her give him pleasure. He watched as she pulled his boxers down, freeing his length. His hands moved to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. He could see the lust in her gaze, and he couldn’t help but sigh again at the sight of her.

His thick, veined shaft jutted out proudly from a trimmed thatch of dark hair. The head was a dark, angry red and already glistening with precome. The older man let out a sharp breath as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, slowly starting to stroke him. He watched intently as she gripped his cock, sliding it over the sensitive length, causing it to pulse in her grip.

A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine as she watched his control come undone. Her eyes were locked onto him, watching his cock pulse and throb in her hand. She could feel it grow harder with each stroke, leaning herself down and sticking out her tongue for a taste.

The sensation of her tapping tongue against the tip of his cock made him shudder, watching the precum string from his slit to the pad of her pink tongue. He looked down at her, seeing the hot promise in her eyes- this was going to be good and he knew it. She slowly began to slide the head of his cock back and forth between her lips, teasing it with her tongue.

Y/N wasn’t one to call any cock pretty, but she would dare to say it for him. Harry’s cock was appealing in the way most others hadn’t been. Maybe part of it was her overwhelming attraction to him in general, but she felt even more eager to make him feel good than she had with anyone else in the past. “I want to take it in my throat. I can do it, I promise. Jus’ need your help.” Her plea was finished with a kiss to the tip before opening her mouth, looking up at him to let him take over.

He guided her head forward gently, encouraging her to take more of him into her mouth. "Relax your jaw, baby, you can take it." He coaxed softly, his voice laced with desire. As Y/N did as he asked, Harry felt his cock slide deeper into her warm, wet mouth. Her lips stretched around his girth, pushing in slowly before he felt the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat. He could feel her nose pressing against his pubic bone as she struggled to take him all in. “Shh, sweetheart. Just gotta get it wet for me, show me what you can do.”

He held her head steady, his hands gently gripping her hair as he started to slowly thrust his hips. The sound of his thick cock sliding in and out of her mouth filled the room, along with the occasional gagging noise as she struggled to accommodate his size.

"You're doing so well, baby," Harry praised, his voice low and gravelly. "Look at you, takin’ it like a good girl. You're gonna make me come so hard today, aren’t you, sweetheart? Just like that, that's it- relax that throat for me..."

As Harry continued to talk to her, his sweet words and praise, Y/N's eyes began to water from the effort of taking him so deep. She gagged a few times, her hands coming up to his thighs for support, but she refused to pull away for longer than a few seconds to catch her breath.

Her cheeks hollowed and her jaw ached, but she was determined to take him all in. Harry's hands moved to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, fucking her mouth with more urgency. "That's it, baby. You're making me so hard... S’been so long... Been ages since anyone’s made me feel like this..." Harry's voice trailed off into a low moan as Y/N finally managed to take him all in, her nose pressing against his lower abdomen. “Tha’s it, right there- fucks sake.”

Harry's hips began to thrust involuntarily, fucking her mouth with shallow pumps as he held the back of her head, still buried deep in her throat. He released the grip, trying to urge her off- but she didn’t want to. "Fuck... you’ve got t’pull off, sweetheart..." he groaned, his breathing heavy and erratic. “Need t’fuck you.” Y/N whimpered around his thickness, her eyes watering as she shook her head slightly, indicating that she wasn't ready to give up yet. She wanted to taste him, to drink him down like he had with her. Harry's grip tightened in her hair, his voice strained.

"Babe...you've gotta-you've got to... please," Harry begged, his voice cracking as she continued to suck him off, her head bobbing and nose brushing his thatch of hair, making his eyes clench shut. "If you don't stop now, M’gonna, fuck...I'm gonna cum in your mouth..."

Y/N whimpered, her hands gripping his thighs tightly as she continued to suck him enthusiastically, eager to taste him. Harry's breathing became rapid and shallow, his fingers tightening in her hair as he struggled to hold back. "Y/N, last chance...I'm-"

The girl moaned as she felt him stiffen, his hips bucking forward as he finally gave in and let go, filling her mouth with his warm release. Watching his face fall in ecstasy, it was going to be worth the soreness tomorrow. She struggled to swallow it all, some of it dripping out of her mouth and down her chin. Harry's knuckles were white from gripping her hair so tightly, his body trembling as he came deep in her mouth. The sight of her swallowing him down was almost too much for him to handle, and he had to close his eyes and focus on not passing out. It truly had been a long fucking time.

As Harry finished cumming, Y/N eagerly cleaned his sensitive prick with her tongue, licking and sucking until he was completely clean. She ran her tongue along the veins and underneath the head, making him shudder and pull back. "Too sensitive...God, you're so good at that." he praised breathlessly. There was slight disbelief in there too, a slight tingling in his thighs as he looked at her as she pressed sloppy kisses to his hip bone. Mascara smeared under her eyes and lipstick a faded smeared mess, he wondered how he had gotten this lucky.

Harry needed a moment to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the intense orgasm. He looked down at Y/N, her messy appearance only making her more adorable to him. "You know what would be perfect right now?" he asked, his voice still shaking slightly.

“What?” Her voice croaked, feeling his thumb brushed away some of the tears on her cheek that had fallen from the gagging.

"Letting me get a taste of that pussy I've been fantasizing about." Harry suggested, his eyes still lingering on her messy and sated appearance as he pulled her up and pushed her to lay back down on the bed. “S’my turn now. Spread those perfect legs and let me see that cunt.”

Y/N obediently spread her legs wide, letting Harry see her dripping wet pussy. He let out a low groan at the sight as he got on his knees, his thumbs spreading her lips apart to reveal her slick folds. He buried his face between her thighs, inhaling her scent deeply before diving in and licking her from asshole to clit. There was no wasting any time or pretending to be shy about a single thing.

A started squeak left her mouth as her head popped up, hands gripping his head as he dove right in with little hesitation. Harry hadn’t seemed like the type to have any reservations in taking what he wanted, and it was being proven by how his tongue slid over her most sensitive parts.

He continued to eat her out with reckless abandon, his tongue fucking her pussy as if it belonged to him. Her breathing was heavy as he sucked on her clit, nibbling at it gently before returning to lap at her folds. His hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks wide to give himself better access to her tight hole. He wanted to have it all. “S’this okay, baby?”

“Uh-huh.” Y/N hadn’t really had anyone touch her there before but she couldn’t say she hadn’t been curious and self explored. It was always something she wanted to play around with and it felt exciting, handing herself over to the man like that.

Harry grinned mischievously against her wet flesh, his hands spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper. He pushed his thumb against her hole, slowly sliding it inside as he continued to lap at her cunt. “You taste so good, sweetheart...” he murmured, his voice muffled by her flesh.

He added a second finger to her ass, scissoring them apart slowly as he tongue fucked her pussy. Y/N's legs started to shake as the dual stimulation became too much. She gripped his hair tightly, her back arching off the bed as she let out a high pitched whine. "Ah!"

Y/N's fingers tightened painfully in Harry's hair, her knuckles turning pale as she tried to stay grounded while the pleasure consumed her. His tongue was spearing into her soaking wet hole over and over, curling up to rub against that spot inside her that made her see stars. And his fingers… god, those hands.

His fingers were stretching her asshole, pushing past the initial resistance and sinking deep into her tight heat. He scissored them further apart, popping her open wider as he fingered her ass. Y/N's legs shook violently, her whole body trembling as she felt herself on the verge of a massive orgasm.

"Harry...it's...too- please..." She babbled, unable to form a full sentence as he continued to stuff her holes. It had never been like this before, no one had even come close. He ignored her pleas, instead burying his face deeper and pumping his fingers faster. She felt so stuffed, so full, the pressure mounting inside her unbearably.

He felt her whole body stiffen, her pussy fluttering on his tongue as she cried out. She gushed against his mouth as she came, the feeling so intense and overwhelming that the waves of pleasure forced her to collapse against him.

Harry worked her through it as she trembled and whimpered with pleasure, his fingers still buried in her ass and his tongue still buried in her pussy. He felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, knowing that he'd reduced this beautiful young woman to a whimpering, shaking mess. It was not only an ego boost from what had been lacking for a while now, but he liked seeing how she reacted to him. He alone had done it.

Harry slowly lifted his head, wiping her from his face as he grinned wickedly at Y/N. "You taste even better when you're coming apart for me, sweetheart." He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact with her. "And you’re tight everywhere, hm?”

Y/N stared at Harry, her eyes glazed over and pupils dilated from the intense high she was still riding down from. Her mouth was slightly parted, breath hitching as she watched him clean her off his hands. A soft blush spread across her cheeks, embarrassed yet turned on by his bold actions.

"H-Harry...that was...I've never...I mean...no one's ever..." She stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence even still.

He chuckled darkly, enjoying how flustered she was. "No one's ever played with your pretty little hole before?"

“No.” Her face felt hot as he grinned up at her. He seemed more than pleased and it made her feel good to know he was happy but still, she had the slight embarrassment that only came with the territory.

"Well, consider that box checked then." He said smugly, crawling back up her body to kiss her passionately. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, the musky flavor a testament to what he'd just done to her.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head as he continued to ravage her mouth. She mewled into the kiss, arching up against him as she felt his hard length pressing into her stomach. "Does my pretty girl want more?"

“Mhm.” She nipped his lip. “Want you inside of me.” Was she still sensitive from her orgasm? yes. But she had been desperate to get him inside of her since she’d first spoken to him. “Do you- are you clean?”

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against her cheek. "I'm always clean, sweetheart. I get checked regularly and I'm very particular about who I share my dick with." He gave her wrists a gentle squeeze before releasing them, reaching over to his pants to his back pocket to grab his wallet.

“I-“ Her hand reached for his wrist. “I don’t wanna use one.” The words laid in the humid air for a moment. It was risky, sure, as any sort of unprotected anything was, but she didn’t want anything in between them. “I want t’feel you inside of me…”

He groaned at her words, his eyes darkening with desire. "Christ, doll. You're gonna be the death of me." Leaning down to kiss her again, his tongue traced over her bottom lip before slipping inside her mouth. He took his time, savoring every inch of her. His lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, causing her to shiver in anticipation. His hands made their way under her hair, feeling the warmth of her skin.

“Can I push in, baby?” He asked with a low tone, his lips tracing her collarbone. At her nod, he wasted little time. Poor thing hadn’t been fucked right before, and he would happily give her a proper experience. Reaching down between them, he positioned himself at her entrance. With one slow thrust, he entered her fully, feeling the warmth and tightness of her around him. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, as he buried the tip inside of her. “Fuck, thank you.”

He groaned as he pushed into her, feeling the way her body welcomed him. He paused for a moment, giving her time to adjust and letting himself feel the depth of her wet heat around him. His hands reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

Being with a younger woman was different for him, but maybe it was just her- he realized as he moved inside of her. It was like being with a whole new sense of being, one who was full of energy and life. Everything about her was so fresh and vibrant, from her tight little pussy to her perfect tits and gorgeous face.

He continued to thrust into her, feeling the way her walls tightened around him. His hands moved down from her breasts, over her soft stomach and to her hips, exploring whenever he could.

His movements were slower, each thrust deliberate and measured. He wanted to savor the feel of her, the way her body yielded to his. He was drawn to watch her face, loving the way her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth fell open as he filled her. "Look at me," he murmured. She opened her eyes, looking at him with a dazed expression. "Good girl, like t’see those pretty eyes." The man sighed, unable to resist praising her. He continued to thrust into her slowly, each movement filled with lust and desire.

“Fuck.” She kept her eyes on him as her hands ran over his hot shoulderbaldes, keeping that contact as he dipped all the way back home as deep as he could. Her mouth fell open and a high pitched noise left her throat without her permission, brows furrowed. “It’s never been that d-deep.”

He grinned at her, loving the way her inexperience made her react to him. "That's because no one's ever taken the time to stretch you out right." He leaned down to kiss her neck, his hips continuing to move in slow, deep thrusts.

“Where the fuck have you been, then?” She laughed breathlessly, letting her eyes fall back closed as he kept the thrusts slow and deep, relishing every inch he took. her body was lax and hot, his for the taking. Right now she felt like he could do anything and she would welcome it. “Are all older guys like this, or is it j-just you?”

He chuckled darkly against her neck, "There's a reason why women often prefer older men, doll- but M’gonna say for greeds sake, s’just me." He suckled at her skin, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs and push them back farther, opening her up even more to his slow, deep thrusts.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth fell open and he welcomed it, sliding his tongue back inside her mouth and humming at the taste of her against him. The fact there was not a single barrier, albeit risky for the first time fucking, made it even hotter.

His movements became gentler, his hands caressing her skin instead of gripping it. "You like that?" he murmured against her lips, his hips rolling into hers instead of thrusting. "You like knowing that there's nothing between us?" He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a heated gaze. "I want you to look at me when I ask you something," he said, his voice low and commanding as he took her eyes. "Are you on any birth control?"

“Y-Yeah. Uh-huh.” Her eyes wide, she looked up at him hazily as she wrapped her legs further around his hips. “Don’t pull out when you cum. Please- I know m’crazy, but I need… need it.” Y/N knew she was insane for it, but their connection was so strong, every thrust inside of her, hitting places she didn’t know existed prior to this… she needed it.

His expression softened, a coo leaving his mouth as he nodded at her. How precious. "Alright, sweetheart. I promise I won't pull out." A dumb decision on his part too considering they’d just met but in the midst of it all, it was all he wanted to do. His hips began to move again, his pace quickening as he felt the heat of her around him. "You're going to take it all then, aren't you?"

“Yeah.” She mewled. From the sounds and feel alone she knew she was making a mess on his cock, but she had a feeling he was enjoying it every time he snuck a glance between them. “Take everything you give me, Daddy.” It was a risk, but she wanted to see what he’d do.

His face contorted with pleasure, his brow furrowing and his jaw clenching. "Good girl…" he hissed, his voice low and gravelly. He buried his face in her neck and thrust into her with more need, his movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to make me cum, doll."

“Cum.” She begged. “Cum in me. Then fuck it into me. Please.” Her nails dragged over his toned back as she clung to him, his bed creaking as he fucked into her welcoming, wet pussy.

He let out a primal grunt and slammed into her one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his hot, thick cum. He held himself inside her, his hips jerking as he pumped his load deep into her cunt. "Fuck, baby... I'm going to fucking fill you up."

But he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest.

With his cum still pouring into her, he reached under her and grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide apart. Observing the mess he made, he fixed his fingers on her clit as he fucked the cum into her just like she asked. “I gave you what you wanted, darling. Give me what I need too, mm?” His lips brushed her cheek, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. She just needed a little extra, and he was more than happy to provide.

Y/N squirmed slightly as she felt it creep up on her faster than she could anticipate. The pulse of his cock as it dribbled the last of his cum inside of her, the feel of his facial hair brushing her tender skin and his fingertips rubbing quick circles over her clit, it was impossible to keep from holding back. Heat boiled in her stomach as she tried to tell him, but it came on quicker than she could speak.

A broken moan left her lips as her body shook under him, eyes burning with tears of pleasure as he fucked her messy cunt and continued the circles until she pushed his hand away, grabbing his face and kissing him far more messily than she would have done in any other capacity- but this felt right. Fucked out and wobbly, melting into the bed as he slowly stopped the thrusts and stayed buried in her.

“Mm- baby. Sweetheart…” he pulled back to look at her. “You alright? Tell me how you’re feelin’.” He needed to check in on her, make sure she was feeling properly taken care of. Just by the look of it alone he had a feeling she felt that way, but he wanted to hear it from her pretty lips.

“I’m so good.” She grinned, drunk with the pleasure as she looked up at the handsome man. He was everything that she had dreamt about when she woke up sticky between her thighs. Aged like a fine wine.

“Can we go again?”

[clockwayswrites]

Danny in Metropolis, Ch3 P5

masterpost this is a first draft and the fatigue has hit me hard today, so please no editing or concrit <3

Kon had insisted on taking one of the top floor rooms, even though the one side of the ceiling was slanted because of the roof line and he had to go down a flight of stairs to get to a bathroom. The only other room on that floor was Clark’s tiny office and the cramped storage space that was mostly holiday decorations. It was just that it was a little easier when he needed get some space from everyone else. Upstairs was his space. He liked that.

He hadn’t, however, thought about what his room must look like to anyone else until Danny was standing in the doorway and obviously looking around.

The sloped chunk of ceiling was covered in posters, photographs, and stickers. There was even a few t-shirts pined on it. While it has started a just a few band posters, Kon’s friends enthusiastically added to it every chance they could get and now it was a constellation of their friendship.

“Oh, wow, cool,” Danny said as he wandered closer to the wall. He tilted his head at a cluster of photos from last summer. “Are these your friends?”

“Yeah.” Kon knew that he sounded a little sappy, but he was, he guessed. He was trying to concentrate more on school this year and that had left him with a lot less time to see them. “They don’t live in Gotham, but we do a… summer camp thing together. Some of them are kids of Clark’s friends too.”

Danny reached out, fingers almost touching a photo of the group all piled onto one giant beanbag. Kon was being squished on the bottom of the group. “Do you get to see them often?”

“Not as much as I want. That’s Tim, Cassie, and Bart.”

“I’m sorry, I bet you miss them,” Danny said and dropped his hand.

“Yeah.” He did. “There anyone from Amity Park you miss?”

“Tucker and Sam,” Danny answered immediately. “I get to talk to them, and I still play games a lot with Tucker, but it’s not the same as being there. It’s stupid, but I miss just being able to go and get a burger with them.”

Kon bumped their shoulders together. “It’s not stupid. It just means you care. I hope you can get that burger soon.”

“Thanks,” Danny said with a smile that looked a little wobbly. “Um, I guess we should do some work so that we have something to show Lois?”

Kon grinned. “Oh I see, up here she’s Lois but down there she’s ‘Miss Lois’?”

Danny blushed back. “Shut up.”

“Nope, teasing you about that forever,” Kon said. “Are you good if I put on some music?”

“Yeah, sure. I don’t recognize like, any of the posters you have,” Danny said as he dropped the armful of snacks onto Kon’s bed.

“Oh you are so getting a musical education after we have enough work done,” Kon warned as he searched for a playlist to work to.

“Going to try to turn me into a punk like you?”

Kon snorted. “You wish you were punk like me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny said and flicked a wasabi pea Kon’s direction.

Kon of course caught it (with the help of a little TTK) and popped it in his mouth. “Yeah I’m right.”

Danny looked Kon over with faux seriousness, which Kon totally did not blush from. “The earrings are cool, I guess.”

“You could get one.”

“Yeah, right. My parents wouldn’t even notice if I came home with one, but they’d never take me to get one,” Danny said.

“I could do it.”

Danny blinked at that. “You could what?”

“I could pierce your ears, if you want. I’ve done it before and I promise that all ears are still attached,” Kon said and flopped down onto his bed next to Danny. “We’d just need to buy some starter studs for you first.”

Danny blinked down back at him. “I—huh. Okay, I’ll think about it. Maybe.”

“Okay.” Kon reached up and brushed a rogue chunk of hair out of Danny’s face before he could think better of it. Fuck, he was definitely blushing now. “Um, right. So, where were we with the work?”

“What? Oh, right, yeah!” Danny started with a little jolt and reached for his backpack. “Gotta impress Lois, right?”

“Right.” That’s who Kon wanted to impress, sure.

Totally not Danny.

[monzamash]

★ bargain bin; —send me a driver + prompt/dialogue starter and i'll write a tiny musing for you

loosen up charles leclerc x you —18+ (sex, mature themes, coarse language) —requested by @tlhd7 (absolute gem) and lovely anon 💖

you knew you were done the second you saw ferrari’s usgp liverly on instagram. the little slither of black peeking out of the collar of charles’ suit already conjuring up wild, wild thoughts. none of them holy. charles looked good in black, that was a well known fact — whether he was wearing a tuxedo or even lounging around in a simple black shirt he looked hot. and although he exuded sunshine energy most of the time, there was a darkness that you enjoyed about him. vexed and flustered charles turned you on.

once you had confirmation from your boyfriend that they were indeed wearing black fireproofs this weekend, the decision was final. you were flying out to texas because nothing was going to stop you from indulging in your greatest fantasy — jet lag who? and nobody was going to stop you from slinking into charles’ drivers room while he prepped for practice. absolutely nobody.

“knock knock…” you playfully greeted, causing charles to glance over from where he was perched on his physio bed. 

“well hello, mon ange… who let you in?” he teased back with a smirk and placed his phone on the table beside him.

“andrea did because i’m actually here to do your warm up massage… fred thought it was really important to get a professional in to make you feel good.” 

charles' soft smile dropped into a devilish smirk, eyes narrowing with desire as soon as his mind registered what you were saying. he liked to roleplay a little, especially on the road when everything felt so serious and tiresome — he loved a sprinkle of spiciness added to the mix and who better to bring it than the woman of his dreams.

“oh well don’t let me stop you, ma’am,” he rushed before laying back down on his front, smiling from ear to ear and giggling into the face hole.

“thank you, sir — i’ll get started on your back first… making sure all those hard knots are worked out before your race,” you stated, brushing your hands down the expanse of his clothed back. the black mesh felt smooth against your palms as you moved them up and down in long strokes, "how's that pressure?”

“incredible but you can be harder if you like,” charles mumbled, his eyes closed while he enjoyed the feeling of your touch. 

“oh, it’s gonna be hard, mr. leclerc — please be patient.” 

you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh into your shoulder — every time you played a character, you struggled to keep it together but eventually the insecurity of it all slowly dissipated as you focused back in. 

you thumbed the hem of his fireproof top and dragged it gently up his back, exposing the tanned skin that beautifully complimented the black fabric, all taut and soft and sprinkled with freckles. each muscle danced under your fingertips as you carefully traced the marks you’d left the night before — the remnants of your reunion making every nerve in your body tingle from the memory. the frenzied fingernail tracks were red, but fading and you could tell charles liked the feeling of your cool palms grazing them by the soft, nearly inaudible moan that slipped from his pursed lips.

“feel good?” you asked, smirking to yourself.

“amazing.” he practically groaned in response. 

“i’ll get you to turn over now so we can shift focus to your front.”

it didn't take long for charles to scurry up and flip over onto his back. he looked like a kid entering a candy store, all wired and wide eyed from what was on offer, and the promise of a sweet treat at the end. you rubbed your hands together and pushed his shirt up a little further before working your hands across his tight abdomen and over his chest, spending a little extra time on the perked nipples that always got his engine revving. to balance out the moans of pleasure, you ghosted your fingertips down his ribs, causing a high pitched giggle to erupt from the man below, immediately cutting the tension bubbling up.

“very ticklish there, ma’am — go lower please…” 

“oh, do you feel tight down here?” you asked innocently while unzipping his suit a little further down his hips.

“very tight - bit lower than that… lower… lower,” charles’ voice grew quieter the closer you got to where he ached until your hand gently grasped his hard cock, “ah, yes - right there,” he sighed. 

you stroked him through the black fireproof trousers, the fabric bunching as your hand worked him over, “ah, i see… very stiff in this area — try to relax for me, charles.” 

the sound of his name falling sultrily from your mouth as you worked him in your hand had him moaning into his arm that had instinctively come up to cover his mouth. the walls of his drivers room were thin, so thin that you’d been told more than once to keep it down. it never stopped you — in fact, maybe it even encouraged the exhibitionist streak you two had. 

through the soft moans, charles eventually grasped consciousness and came up for air - he loved watching you get him off, almost as much as he enjoyed returning the favour. everything about you set him alight — your eyes, your voice and the way you studied every little twitch on his face while you made him feel good.

slowing slightly, you pensively looked down at your hand and tutted, “i think i may need to use some kind of lubrication to really get these stiff knots out…” 

charles eagerly nodded, “do whatever you need to do.”

“as long as you’re sure…” you stated cautiously, peeling down his fireproofs and underwear in one foul swoop, “is it okay if i use my mouth? i think it could really help.” 

a gutteral moan vibrated in charles’ throat as his head lulled back in disbelief, “fuck… i mean, yes- yes, yes, yes, yes.” 

it never took long to have him exactly where you wanted him — you always started with a tiny kitten lick to his tip, your tongue would travel down to the base and back up before taking him fully in your warm mouth. before too long, he was sitting upright and pulsating down the back of your throat with his fingers loosely grasping the back of your head for dear life, needing something, anything to hold onto while you had him seeing stars. his other hand was pressed so hard to his mouth that when you stood up and wiped your lips, you could see a red hand print left in its wake. 

“are you feeling looser now, mr. leclerc?” you teased and massaged his shoulders once more with a smirk lining your swollen lips. 

“oh my god stop or you’ll make me hard again,” charles groaned and pulled you into a passionate kiss, “you will be the death of me eventually, sweet girl.”

a/n— please don't ask me to define "tiny" because this is over 1k words lol i got carried away because i haven't written for charles in a loooong time and these two requests were way too good not to combine! i have no chill. shop the sale event here !!

[starconstruction]

Sinful Gathering

Jinsoul + Heejin + Chaewon + Nayeon x Male Reader (smut)

tags: anal, ass eating, gxg, fivesome, blowjob, creampie, face riding, fingering, strap usage

Word Count:2831

Your girlfriend Jinsoul had quite the connections, being in her line of work gave her some of the hottest women at her beck and call, probably helped she was also smoking hot. You were quite the lucky guy, getting to pound so many beautiful babes.

Tonight was no different in that sense, the alcohol was swinging the music was beating and Jinsoul was the life of the party. Doing her signature dance move, grabbing onto your arm as she positioned you into the center.

"Let's get this party started!!!" She yelled, voice high and shrill. Doing her favorite starter, pressing her fat ass inches from your crotch. Shaking it up and down as she twerked on you, it was certainly a party trick. The rest of the girls looked on with a noticeable hunger, Chaewon's hand readjusted her shirt as her face flushed a tiny bit.

"Come on!!! Get up and move!" She cheered, grinding up and down on your semi-hard cock. Lifting her glass up in celebration as she started to feel herself, the other girls started to stir. Looking at each other before Nayeon made the first move, standing up and pulling the other girls to their legs.

Jinsoul had a bit of an ego, bumping her own groups music through the room. Heejin and Chaewon got into their own little routine, bodies intertwined as they let loose. Hands grabbing at each other's clothed bodies, a undercurrent of arousal surged through the 5 party goers.

Jinsoul stopped her twerking, bringing Nayeon to your little duo. "Nayeon, would you like to do the honors? The first one to kiss my wonderful boyfriend tonight?" She asked, hands running up Nayeon's chest, squeezing her breasts trapped behind her shirt. You knew your girlfriend very well and her fascination with breasts, unsurprising that she would immediately go for them.

" Of course Jinsoul, looks like your man wants it just as much." She purred with gluttony. Jinsoul moved out of the way, giving Nayeon prime access to your lips. "You want me right? Handsome boy." She had a pretty considerable age gap, given your age was similar to Jinsoul. But that only lured you in deeper, taking her into a deep kiss.

Nayeon's mouth tasted strongly of alcohol, an addicting sensation as your tongues battled for dominance. Swapping saliva with the older idol, hands running down her body that your girlfriend just explored.

Nayeon's technique was skilled, refined and predatory. Pushing her tongue into your mouth as she grabbed onto your neck, shoving you closer to her body. Getting into a comfortable rhythm as your hips swayed to the music.

You pulled away, staring into Nayeon's lustful eyes. Resisting temptation to push her into the plush couch, Jinsoul's desire was evident by the way she was in-between Chaewon and Heejin. A threeway of tongues licking each other, your girlfriend copping a feel of their tight assets like usual.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps it was how horny you were, perhaps it was the way Nayeon looked at you with half lidded eyes. But you couldn't help yourself, shoving her down as you towered over her stunning body, thirstily licking her neck as your teeth sunk in. "Hmm, naughty boy." She grabbed strands of your hair, bringing you closer into the bridge of her neck.

Your teeth nipped at her collarbone, reveling in the deep gasps she uttered. Nayeon's body was a temple to explore, hands rubbing up and down her clothed body. Lifting the fabric up and grasping her stomach.

"Ahh!" You heard a scream, pulling away from Nayeon and looking up to your left. The sight had certainly escalated, Chaewon's clothes were suddenly thrown on the floor, Heejin was sucking on her face. And Jinsoul? Well she was doing what she did best. Tonguing the girl below her, on her knees with Chaewon legs resting on her shoulders. Jinsoul's hair blocked the sight of her relishing in her taste as she ate Chaewon out.

Nayeon's hand roughly turned you back around, her lips taking yours again, hands finding your trousers and pulling them down in a swoop, taking your thick cock in your hand as she pumped you up and down suddenly. "Focus on me, this cock is so good. Look how my hand struggles to wrap around, god."

"Fuck, Nayeon.. Suck my dick... Please" You begged, she dived in face first. Capturing your hard length in her exquisite mouth, bobbing up and down. She was experienced and refined, taking you in with very little struggle.

"Oh fuck, Jinsoul! Keep kissing my cunt!" Chaewon screeched, your vision was focused solely on the mature idol. Who was taking you beyond deep in her mouth, the lack of her gag reflex was something new and oh so good.

"Nay-eon! Uhm, god that's fucking good." You choked, hand finding itself under Nayeon's dress. Pushing her panties to the side, pressing into her warmth that invited you in.

The blocked moans vibrated against your cockhead, it felt so good. The way you were buried in Nayeon's mouth, unfortunately she had to come up for air, hand jerking your saliva-lubed cock off with a thick lust while she caught her breath.

You looked around at all the wonderful girls, too many clothes remained on the idols for your liking. You had an idea, one that left a devilish smile on your face.

"Nayeon, get ready to take Jinsoul's place." You whispered, getting off the couch as you picked up Jinsoul suddenly. Ripping her from the sweet cunt of Chaewon.

"Huh? Baby?" She called out, dangling in the air. You said nothing, throwing her slender body into the crouch. Pulling her shorts off, your girlfriends holes exposed to the air.

"Oh? Is my boyfriend hungry? Go on." She granted permission, your tongue dived into Jinsoul's asshole, flicking your tongue against the muscle. "Oh that feels good, eat my filthy hole!" She pleaded.

You had done this countless times, but still unable to get enough of your girlfriend's asshole. Burying your face between her meaty thick cheeks. Swirling your tongue around her saliva doused backdoor.

"Heejin honey!" Your girlfriend called out, trying to talk over the moans. "Come! Fuck come over here, my boyfriend's cock needs sucking."

This angle wasn't exactly optimal for that, pulling Jinsoul's thickness onto your head. Tongue swapping onto her slippery pussy, giving Heejin a better angle which she took advantage of. Mouth wrapping around your cock like Nayeon moments prior, collecting the remnants of saliva she imparted with slurps. Jinsoul's taste fell right into your mouth, a familiar arousal that motivated you to let her cunt ride your face.

"God, that's it honey! Eat my pussy urghhhh!" She whined, grinding her aroused cunt into your tongue. Heejin kept slurping on your thick cock without a care in the world, her mouth was warm and inviting.

Jinsoul was loud, screaming into the air much akin to Chaewon. A symphony of moans and gags replacing the lively conversations. You were enthralled by your girlfriend's pussy, but as a courteous host you had to be equal.

Jinsoul and Heejin shifted in a blur, the new scent of Heejin spurring you on, tongue diving into her hole. The room was scorching hot now, the muggy arousal clung to every surface. Your nails dug into her pillowy ass, giving you the required support to devour the sloppy pussy in front of you.

"Oh, Y/N! God that's nice!" She moaned, legs tightening around your face. "Your cock tastes so good, ptuh" Jinsoul complemented, spitting straight onto your tip.

"Hmm! Nayeon, you really know how to eat a girls pussy!" Chaewon yelled.

You couldn't breathe anymore, getting Heejin off of you. Jinsoul took the same rest break, the three of you now sat stark baked next to each other. You and Jinsoul took the opportunity to tag team the idol who was sandwiched between the two of you.

A silent gaze said a thousand ones, hands suddenly pressing between Heejin's legs. Dainty fingers reaching for her clit as yours reached for her hole, pistoning in and out of Heejin.

"Such a nice pussy, gonna use it the way I want..." You whispered into Heejin's ear, licking against her lobe. A shiver hitting her entire body as she spasmed.

"Oh? Do you like your body being explored?" Jinsoul asked to the slightly older girl in front of her, spare hand roughly fondling her breast.

"Yeah, I like it! Fuck...." She moaned, composure faltering at the fingers thrusting into her body. You smiled, her mouth slightly open in pleasure.

Nayeon and Chaewon stopped their individual little session, approaching the group. Nayeon's lips were dark and slick with Chaewon, who was entirely uncomposed. Body flushed red as her hair stuck against the sweaty skin, she was super hot like this.

Jinsoul picked up on your eye fucking, "Chaewon, can you go grab something from my bedroom. You'll know what it is, Y/N will come with you." She winked.

"Oh, sure!" She smiled, pulling you up.

You lured Chaewon to her bedroom, which was defiled from a certain "pre-concert" earlier. "So, what are we looking for?" She asked, pretending to be innocent to what Jinsoul was implying.

"I don't know, maybe it's in the closet?" you pointed towards her in-wall closet, Chaewon walked towards it. Shaking her toned ass with every step, opening it with a pop.

"It's too dark! I can't see" She whined, bending inwards as she pretended to look around. You appeared behind her, "Hmmm. Let me help you find it." You rubbed your cock against Chaewon's thoroughly licked pussy.

"Yeah, I think you need to get a bit deeper to help me find it." She purred, head pointed down into the shadows.

"Yeah, I gotta get inside I think." You moaned, pushing into the first woman of the night. "Oh shit." Chaewon moaned. Her cunt gripped around you much tighter than your girlfriend, not that you'd ever admit that. Starting painfully slowly, bottoming out and staying there.

"Hm, I still can't see it, perhaps my hands are in the way?" She lifted her arms, allowing you to pin them together. "Any luck?" You asked.

"No, I think you need to move me inwards." She feigned, you happily complied. Beginning to move, cock colliding with her cunt as you pounded in and out.

"Ah shit, Chaewon..." You gasped, manhanding the tight idol, the sounds of skin slapping as your crotch hit against her fat ass.

"Hm, maybe it's not in her closet her bed maybe? She inquired, you chuckled. Regrettably leaving Chaewon's tightness as she went to the bed, sprawling over the edge with her legs spread open.

"Yeah, look down there for me." You barely held the facade, the minute her back arched you were inside again. Balls slapping against her clit, body jiggling with lust and desire.

The sight of fucking Chaewon on your girlfriend's bed, unwashed from your last outing a few hours prior made your head fuzzy. The scent of Jinsoul's perfume still faintly lingered, a sweet lavender cut through via various other things. Chaewon's arousal, combined sweat. It was all intoxicating.

"Ah, fuck! Fuck I'm getting close, drill my cunt!" She begged, body going limp as she took your harsh thrusts. You weren't far behind, sparks forming inside your body, a deep heat in your core. "I'm gonna cum as well!" You groaned.

"AHH! SHIT, I'M ON BIRTH CONTROL! JUST CUM INSIDE!" She screamed, tightening around you even harder than usual. The sensation creating a chain reaction as you shot your first orgasm of the night, filling Chaewon's womb up as you pulled your softening length out of her.

Chaewon sighed in satisfaction, cum dripping out of her pussy onto the Jinsoul's bed. You wish you could photograph this moment, committing the sight to memory was the best you could do for now.

"Oh! I found it!" Chaewon smiled, hand grabbing the decently sized bottle of lube as she laid on the bed. Shaking it around in her hands. "We should probably get back to the others, thanks for the help." She smiled.

You two walked into the living room, not entirely sure what to expect. It wasn't this though, Nayeon was pressed against the groin of Heejin. Nose buried into her snatch with her tongue fucking in and out, Jinsoul was equally involved, fingering Nayeon's pussy as she looked at Chaewon's body. Your cum sticking right to her legs, licking her lips.

"Oh, someone got busy." She smirked, "Come closer Chae, I want a taste."

Chaewon was more than happy to comply, walking over to Jinsoul's awaiting lips. You ogled, observing the exchange of cum entering her mouth. "No fair!" Heejin whined, struggling against Nayeon's tongue drinking her honey.

"There will be plenty to go around, did you grab the lube? Between fucking her?" Jinsoul shifted.

"Yeah, here it is." Chaewon gifted the lube, accompanied by a lustful look. Watching Jinsoul arch so sweetly, hand withdrawn from Nayeon. "So, boyfriend. Who's ass is looking the most fuckable right now?"

The question hung in the air, staring intently at every curvy pair of cheeks. Weighing up the pros and cons of every girl. But your mind laid with only one girl in it.

Her.

The way her ass laid popped out, the curves beckoning you forth with their definition. The way Chaewon was equally enthralled, drooling down her face in awe. "Yours Jinsoul." Her heart fluttered, spreading her cheeks giving you a better view. "Okay, then fuck my ass." She purred.

You grabbed the lube, spurting the shiny liquid all over your cock. Rubbing it into her backdoor, one you were excited to conquer once more. "Gonna fuck this ass, make you fucking scream." You growled, pushing inside her tight ass, Chaewon was tight, really tight. But compared to Jinsoul's ass? Nothing.

"Ohh, fuck me!" Jinsoul pressed her hands into Chaewon's ass, tongue diving into her dirty hole as she cleaned Nayeon's saliva with her own. Moans muffled in between the thick flesh, her face fully buried inside as she rubbed face first into Chaewon.

It was a circuit of lust, starting with you in Jinsoul's ass and ending with Heejin in Nayeon's cunt. Finger fucking the idol that begged for it, "Ah! Ah! Fuck Heejin, that's so good..."

You were a voyeur to the idols fucking, Jinsoul's ass hugging onto you so tightly, so perfectly. Squeezing around your cock as you gave her pleasure. Jerking yourself with her body, asscheeks rippling against the hits you granted. Harsh, firm, loud. "Ugh, Jinsoul you are so fucking tight, such a fuckable ass." You rewarded her toned ass with even more spanks, skin turning blood red.

Time started to lose any meaning, slipping away to give more brain space for the way Jinsoul wrapped around you. Your earlier ride with Chaewon brought the orgasm closer than you wanted. "Fuck, I am gonna cum!" a simple gasp, filling your girlfriend up with thick cum. Breathing heavily, brain spinning, pulling out.

"Take a moment Honey." Jinsoul gasped between Chaewon, you sat there, reveling in the sight. Cum leaking from her thoroughly gaping ass, Nayeon and Heejin move in. Hungry vultures, tongues pressing deep against her ass for their sample of the prize. Trickling into their mouths as it gathered.

-

Your energy laid depleted, night coming to it's final act. Two lovely women laid in missionary, Laying on Jinsoul's defined pillow. Who had a strap anchored around her hip, willing to take whoever you didn't.

After a few painful seconds, your brain set it's mind on Nayeon, plunging into her wet pussy. Thrusting upwards with a desperation, pulling her into your arms. "Hmm, fuck me, naughty boy!" She rubbed your hair, ruffling it up while you pounded the idol.

"Oh, fuck Nayeon you feel so good..." You moaned, too tired for screams. Hands just admiring her tasty flesh.

"AH! fuck Jinsoul!" Heejin whined, look to the left. Purple plastic entering in and out, Chaewon sat watching. Fucking herself silly with the dildo Jinsoul bestowed upon her.

Wet squelches filled the room, juices covering the bed. You struggled to keep up, breath heavy and light at the same time. "Nayeon f-fuck! I'm sorry... God your tight." You whined, feeling the effects of her pussy wrapped around you.

"God! That's so hot!" Chaewon put her legs up, getting prime views that millions would pay for.

The toll had been taken, you stopped moving. Unloading in Nayeon as you finished inside her, you took deep breaths. Head hazy, hands clenching onto each other as you were overwhelmed.

You sat next to Chaewon, giving her ass your fingers, happily watching Jinsoul pound Heejin. Who had her moans silenced by Nayeon's cum filled cunt suffocating her face.

The night ended with you and Jinsoul taking a shower, bodies connected in a deep hug as the rest crashed on the couch. Energy ripped away from each other, going to need more than a couple days rest.

A good night though, one you'd do again.

[unkn0wng1rly]

katsuki bakugo

cw: hubby!kat x wifey!reader, overwhelmed reader, soft katsuki, reassurance, fluff(?)

“daddy,”

katsuki was sitting in the playroom with his daughter, miya, helping her clear up the toys she used as it was nearing bed time.

you were in the other room upstairs, nursing your one year old son who was fussy the whole day.

he hadn’t responded because he’d expected miya to ramble on like she always did, talking about her dolls or school or whatever it was that was on her mind.

when she didn’t speak he looked up at her, she was holding her dolly who’s leg had popped off mysteriously, hair done in a braid by miya herself.

but he knew that wasn’t the problem, that happened a while ago. “what’s up princess?”

miya bit her lip, like the information he was holding was top secret. it was scaring him a little.

his eyebrows furrowed, trying not to come to the worst possible conclusion. “you know you can tell me anything, right?” katsuki pressed gently, dropping one of the pretend burgers into her kitchen set.

miya nodded, crawling over to her dad and sitting on his lap where he immediately cuddled her.

it was scaring him even more because it was so out of the blue, when katsuki had got home she’d been fine, playing with her brother and talking about school.

his hands seemed massive laying on her tiny back as she played with his shirt, almost nervously, like she shouldn’t tell.

“i saw.. i saw mummy crying today. i asked mommy why she was crying but she started smiling and said she was ok.”

when miya looked up, her eyes were slightly glassy and katsuki swore he felt his eyes tear up too.

seeing his baby cry provoked an emotion out of him that only people in this house could provoke, his heart tugging uncomfortably in his ribcage.

“i don’t think mummy is ok, i want mummy to be ok.” her soft little voice, the way her bottom lip trembled, it was all too much for him.

he brought her close, pressing her against his chest as he struggled to even find words. for starters he was so worried about you, but he’d attend to that later.

the fact that at such a young age she was so aware about other people’s feelings made him wonder just how intelligent she was.

both you and katsuki made sure she lived as a child and nothing else, not having to worry about anybody else but herself and her brother.

yet somehow, she was capable of feeling so strongly for others to the point she was upset at you being upset.

“listen sweetheart, i think your mummy is just tired lately, y’know how sometimes your little brother cries when he’s sleepy?”

he felt her mini head nod against his chest, his thumb rubbing up and down her back, looking at the box of toys in the corner.

“im pretty sure that’s how she feeling, she just needs a lot of rest.” his normally rough voice was just a hunch softer, only for his sweet girl.

miya looked up, big round eyes looking at him with such trust and love.

“really?” she asked, her mood brightening almost immediately like a child would.

katsuki nodded with a tight smile, not that she’d be able to tell the difference entirely anyways.

“c’mon, let’s finish cleaning up the bomb you left you in here and get in your jammies.”

a giggle came from her, protesting that the mess wasn’t a bomb.

after going upstairs and saying goodnight to her in her room, katsuki walked towards your sons room, pushing the door open a little.

he was already asleep, baby monitor on as he was splayed out on his crib, sleep sack secured.

smiling softly, he left the room, closing the door behind him as he approached your bedroom, opening the door and closing it behind him.

you were there, taking your hair out as you pulled back your side of the duvets, ready to call it a night.

“hi baby,” you cooed gently, though you weren’t even looking at him, tucking yourself into bed.

katsuki’s heart only got heavier and his frown deepened as he moved to his side of the bed, laying ontop of the bed.

for a few moments, he just watched, unsure of how to approach the matter.

you were taking some vitamins before pulling out a book, getting ready to read.

without thinking too much, katsuki took the book out of your hands, grabbing your attention rather quickly.

you looked up at him, utterly confused, but he didn’t let you get a word in.

“what’s wrong.” it wasn’t even a question, it was a statement, like he already knew something was wrong.

having been caught off guard, you let out a scoff mixed with a laugh, eyes looking at him like you should be asking him that.

“i’m fine..? i’m just trying to read.” you mumble, reaching to snatch the book back but he tossed it over his shoulders without another thought.

you watched it land on your rug with a deafened thud, pursing your lips together.

“tell me the truth y/n.” he said again and you rolled your eyes a little, making movements to go and retrieve the book. “i’m fine, chill out.”

his hand grabs your wrist which stops you altogether.

you look at him and see that he’s not playing around in the slightest, his red eyes analysing every facial expression you have to offer.

“that why miya saw you crying today?”

oh.

immediately your face flushed, eyes wide at the realisation that your daughter had seen you crying.

you thought that she was busy playing with her toys, you’d retreated to your sons room for a moment where he was taking a nap, the first time you had him quiet the whole day.

the tears took over you before you knew it, not even the soft kind, ugly sobs that had your body shaking, only muffled by your hand practically suffocating yourself.

you loved being a mother, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

but the hard days were hard.

katsuki was a good help, when he came home from work he’d make sure to take over with the kids as much as he could so you could focus on other things.

but still, if it wasn’t the kids you were looking after, it was the upkeep of the house, with two kids under five who didn’t entirely understand the concept of chores, it was quite difficult.

and most of all?

you felt ugly.

you’d changed quite drastically after pregnancy, your beautiful figure long forgotten, filled out with curves and pudges.

not to mention you felt like a walking milk machine, shirts often stained with leaking milk from your nipples.

“babe?”

your eyes fluttered and you were back in your bedroom. it didn’t take more than a few seconds before you felt the hot tears slide down your cheeks.

drop.

drop.

drop.

katsuki manoeuvred you like a doll, bringing you to his chest and cradling you like he was to miya not long ago.

“i’m just so tired katsuki.” you sob brokenly. for so long you’d tried to bottle it up, telling yourself that this was just a part of motherhood.

he didn’t say anything, just rubbing you gently as he listened, he didn’t want to interrupt you.

“my body isn’t my own anymore, it’s just so hard, i feel overwhelmed sometimes and i’ve gotten so fa—“

he was listening intently until the last word, where he grabbed your chin in a half rough half gentle way, making eye contact

“if you finish that word i promise i’ll slap you.”

you gave a sniffly chuckle, you knew he was joking but there wasn’t a smile on his face, as much as he was kidding, he looked dead serious.

“aren’t you meant to be consoling me right now?” you huffed through squished cheeks, cheeks wet and eyes sparkly in the light.

“consoling you? of course, but i’m not going to sit here and listen to you berate yourself.” he scolded.

you rolled your eyes, he was always so serious when it came to you being self critical. that was because he knew the difference between criticism and just being unrealistic.

right now? you were the latter.

when you tried to push him away he remained steadfast.

“i’m serious y/n. don’t say those words about yourself, ever.”

your eyebrows were raised up. you thought he was just trying to make you feel better. “but it’s true.” you shrug hopelessly.

katsuki felt his heart shatter even more, he didn’t know your self image had gotten this bad.

“are you being fucking serious?”

you blinked.

“you can’t expect to have carried two children and look how you used to. you’re obviously going to look different. fuck if i had to carry even one child, god knows how i’d look.”

a smile crept up on the corner of your mouth, but he wasn’t done.

“baby, you’re the most gorgeous woman i’ve ever had the fortune of meeting and marrying. whether you’ve gained or lost a few kilos, i couldn’t give a fuck. you’ve given me life in ways more than one.” his voice was softer now, more gentle, like he was trying to prove how genuine he was with the tone of his voice.

he despised you feeling this way, he despised himself even more for doing a shit job at reassuring you.

sure, he’d called you beautiful and gorgeous or whatever word under the sun he could find. but that wasn’t enough.

he realised it now, something he should of seen so long ago.

you didn’t even realise you were crying again until it dribbled down your chin.

“i’m sorry for not reassuring you enough, i should’ve seen how bad you were hurting.” katsuki sounded like he was wanting to cry too, his voice the type of soft that he only ever exposed to you.

you shake your head, laughing and crying as you hug him tightly. “it’s not your fault kats, i refused to tell you how i felt.” you smile, a heavy weight that had been anchoring your heart disappearing.

he kissed your forehead, his fingers tracing the lines of your hair as he held you just like that, needing the closeness as much as you did.

“how about you go out of town for a few days, with your friends. i’ll take a couple days off work and stay with the kids.” he proposed, before changing his tact quite suddenly.

“don’t worry about me or the gremlins, if you do then i’ll think you’re doubting my parenting skills.”

your eyes gloss over again, but it’s not out of sadness this time. it’s because you’re overwhelmed with happiness. it made you wonder why you ever thought to hide how you truly felt from him.

it made you feel guilty for not being truthful with him sooner, for thinking he wouldn’t understand when he made a vow to understand you for the rest of his life.

“i love you kats, honestly.”

he gave another peck to your temple. “i love you too idiot.”

gentle cries came from your sons bedroom, you could tell what type of cry it was. he was hungry.

“i got it, you get some sleep.”

pulling away from katsuki, sighing as you thank him with a smooch on his lips. you pull yourself back into the covers, watching as he stands up and walks out of the bedroom, leaving you to close your eyes.

although you’d been sleeping everyday, tonight, you knew you’d really sleep.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Denial

Co-written with the gorgeously talented @gravid-transluna Thanks so much for picking up this RP starter, so happy we’re collaborating and writing fics. I’m having a blast! 💜 [fpreg, 7.7k words, birth denial, clothing birth, public birth]

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

Alex had a million and one things to do in the office before she went on maternity leave. The day was disappearing fast and she’d barely sat down; with back to back meetings, numerous phone calls, it was non-stop. It seemed her body wasn’t too keen on being pushed so hard this late in her pregnancy, if the constant braxton hicks were anything to go by, but she powered through assuring herself that she’d be resting soon. Just get through today.

The Exec waddles into the lift, heading to a meeting room a few floors below. The doors were just about to close before a young employee jumped in lightly after her. They stood in relative silence facing the exit, until the sudden screech of metal clanged all around them. The floor shook, jolting suddenly, and the lift was brought to an abrupt halt.

Alex’s curled hair swung around her face as she glanced at the tiny screen which usually displayed the floor level - it was now flashing a warning error image. “Eugh, is the lift broken?” Alex gruffed, annoyed.

“Looks like it.” The anxious looking subordinate replied, clearly worried and apprehensive at the thought of being trapped in here. “H-Have you got your phone with you?”

“Damn. No, it’s on my desk. You?” Alex asks, frustrated her pregnancy brain had struck again, making her forget something as fundamental as her phone. Seeing the other woman’s expression Alex quickly realised neither of them had a phone.

Thankfully the lights stayed on, but the metal box quickly started feeling too small. Another cramp rolls across Alex’s large, full-term, belly and she can’t help but grimace.

“Oof…mmmnghh….” A moan slipped out under her breath, she rubbed the side of her twinging bump as the other hand automatically reached to the wall of the elevator for stability. “Hooohooo… not now…” Alex whispered.

The other woman looked at her nervously.

Colleen had two fears: contained spaces and her boss, Alex. Unfortunately for her, she was trapped in with both of them today. Alex’s pregnant belly straining the buttons of her work blouse did nothing to diminish her fearsome personality; if anything motherhood had only made her more intimidating, still a commanding presence in a roomful of men even with a swollen, overdue baby belly hanging off her frame.

Worse, her boss seemed a little more than uncomfortable in this situation. She’d seen her bite receptionists’ heads off her a wrong coffee order, but still, seeing Alex wince and rub her belly, which seemed to have dropped even lower this week, she felt compelled to hesitantly ask, “Ma’am, is everything alright? I’m sure they’ll realize we’re in here eventually.”

Alex gave Colleen a quizzical look, but on seeing where her colleague's gaze was, she realised she was rubbing the right side of her large pregnant stomach. She stopped, letting her arm fall limp at her side.

“I’m fine,” Alex replied curtly. “I just don’t have time for this today.” She sighed and looked around the cramped space, what she was looking for she didn’t know, but there must be someway to get someone’s attention and get them out of there.

She knew she was cutting it fine; both by how late she was going on maternity leave but also with how much she was trying to cram in to her last day. Her feet were aching in her 3inch heels having been on her feet for most of the day, in meetings and presentations and walking around the office trying to make sure everyone in her team was well equipped to continue things during her absence. She was heading down to the third floor for her next meeting with the team leaders, that was if the lift hadn’t so inconveniently broken down.

“So you don’t have your phone on you or any method of communication at all?” Alex griped, asking her mousy employee yet again. Hoping the woman would miraculously have a way of contacting the security team or something.

The baby in her womb seemed just as uncomfortable as Alex in this small space, shifting and kicking harshly against her taught and stretched skin. His head was sitting so low in her pelvis it felt like her hips were being pulled apart. She’d be happy when this pregnancy was over, she was done playing host, she wanted her body back. Though she continued to dress in her staple pencil skirt, blouse and heels, pregnancy be damned.

Alex began to pace around the room, finding herself needing to move, shifting the aching from her hips. Another braxton hicks decided to add to her problems, she huffed under her breath and faced away from the doors into the corner, blowing out a silent exhale through the twisting pain.

Colleen could tell by the way that Alex’s gaze flicked over her that she probably only recognized her face by sight and not by name. She seemed impatient, which wasn’t unusual for such a busy, ambitious, work-minded woman, but there was something else in her impatience, an almost shifting restlessness that seemed to match the restless movements in her packed womb. The fabric of her blouse was almost see-through, stretched so thinly around her massive swell, and Colleen could observe visible ripples against the tight skin of her belly. She winced. Colleen wasn’t at an age where she had seriously considered children, but her respect for her boss had grown immensely, seeing her waddle around the office in her pencil skirt and blouse, seemingly as efficacious as ever.

Alex’s restlessness became even more pronounced when she turned away from Colleen, as though hiding her big belly and whatever was going on inside it.

“I don’t have my phone,” Colleen said helplessly, hoping it wouldn’t result in a chewing out. “I left it in my handbag on my chair.”

Alex let out a disgruntled sigh, half from annoyance at her staff’s serious lack of organisation - who goes anywhere without their phone anyway? - but also from the way in which this false contraction was starting to bite.

The practice pains had been a consistent thorn in her side all day and it was really starting to get on her nerves. She’d successfully managed to grin and bear it through this morning's presentation to the board but by lunchtime they were starting to take her breath away. Still, Alex carried on. There was just too much to do and not enough time. It was why she was working right up to her due date, not that she told the company that. They’d have forced her out weeks ago if they knew she’d technically passed her due day on Tuesday.

When the pains passed, Alex spun around and walked determinedly towards Colleen who appeared to brace herself for something. She always got a warped joy when they did that. Leaning past her employee, Alex began pressing buttons on the lift and found the emergency call button. “Let’s try this shall we.” Alex smirked at the hesitant Colleen. Unfortunately the emergency button did absolutely nothing at all.

“Umm,” Colleen scratched awkwardly at her neck, trying to disguise her growing panic. She didn’t like the idea of being trapped, but more so she knew as things continued to go wrong her boss’s mood would continue to sour, and didn’t want to remotely be in her vicinity when it did.

She tried not to look at the immense belly taking up most of her field of vision, though it was hard not to glance at it, especially when making eye contact with Alex was such a terrifying experience.

“We could shout for help?” Colleen suggested. “Maybe someone will hear us from whichever floor we’re on.”

“Eugh… if you want to shout then go ahead.” Alex dismissed, and continued back to her pacing around the small space.

They stayed in awkward silence, the only sounds were the clack-clack of Alex’s heels on the metal floor as she did loops around her section of the lift. She had one hand on her back, knuckles pushing into the base of her spine as it ached and spasmed. She’d managed to breathe her way through a few more of the annoying cramps but they were soon joined by a serious increase in pressure.

One particularly forceful twinge made her gasp and stop her pacing, one hand flying to the wall to lean against as the tightening got stronger and stronger and stronger. She couldn’t stop the low hum she made in her throat as the cramp continued its assault.

Colleen didn’t dare to open her mouth to shout, knowing she’d probably receive a dirty look and a complaint about a headache for her troubles. Instead she watched as her boss paced, again noting her restlessness and the hand bracing her curved, strained back as well as the hand constantly circling and resting on the broad shelf of her belly, as though to soothe the baby inside. This time, though, she noticed Alex’s walk, the way she waddled as though encumbered not only by the weight of her huge bump, but a pressure of sorts between her legs.

She more than suspected Braxton Hicks at this point, but her worst suspicions were confirmed when her boss finally leaned against the wall as though unable to support her own weight or trying to escape a deep pressure from her womb. She hummed, lowing as though she’d momentarily forgotten Colleen was there, absorbed with sensations from her pregnant body.

“Ma’am, are you okay?!” She stepped closer, hands spread like she didn’t know what to do with them. “You’re having a contraction, right. Oh god. Oh, this is so bad.”

Alex waved a hand away at the approaching colleague, keeping her at arm's length. “Don’t be ridiculous. Hoooo…. It’s nothing, it’s just a c-cramp that’s all… mnghhh…”

Her hand drifted lower and brushed along the underside of her stomach needing to try and find some way to ease the ache that was gnawing through her belly. She could feel her knees start to wobble and she breathed steadily, her weight supported by the wall, until it passed.

“See, it’s gone now. I’m fine.” Alex stated confidentially, her work facade firmly replaced. “Someone better get us out of here soon, I’m gonna bloody fire that security officer.” Alex muttered aloud.

She wanted to resume her pacing, her hips needed the constant movement, but her feet were far beyond protesting the high heels - they were downright screaming at her. Too exhausted to keep up every one of her professional fronts, Alex resigned herself to the comfort of bare feet and uncharacteristically kicked off her shoes.

Colleen nodded furiously at Alex’s dismissal of the pains. “Right! Of course, just a cramp. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

The young employee didn’t know much about pregnancy and birth, but she’d seen enough media about it to know that Alex closely resembled that of a woman in labor: the characteristically low, dropped belly, the consistent cramps, the restlessness. But…. that’d be impossible, right? There was no way she’d had the misfortune to be trapped in a lift with her boss of all people, and especially not an Alex in labor. That was not an encounter Colleen particularly wanted to be around.

She reassured herself. Even if those cramps coursing through Alex’s obviously overdue belly were labor pains, labor could take days, right? They couldn’t be stuck in here for more than thirty minutes, someone would absolutely notice Alex’s absence if not Colleen’s. She was too important to the company. Then, Colleen could get back to her emails and Alex could be sped off to the hospital or wherever she preferred to drop that kid.

These hopes wavered when Alex kicked off her shoes, pacing in her stockings. Colleen’s eyes widened. This was a ridiculously unprofessional move for Alex, she knew that for sure.

Without her black patent heels Alex shifted anxiously on flat swollen feet around the confined space, gradually feeling the temperature rise and the air thicken. There was no circulation in the small box, no air conditioning or fresh air coming through any gaps or vents. She could feel sweat start to dampen the back of her neck, her curled hair sticking to the tacky skin. She ran her fingers through her hair, arms stretching up and belly sticking out, picking up the ringlets from the back of her head and lifting them off her neck allowing some air to cool her overheated skin.

The Exec huffed an exhausted sigh. “How long do you reckon we’ve been in here?” Alex asked breathlessly to her subordinate.

She had given up on pacing and resorted to standing at the back of the lift and next to the metal railing that ran across the width of the back wall. Her hips swayed side to side, she breathed slow and deep, and occasionally would place a subtle hand on the railing for support.

The persistent braxton hicks were grating, chipping away at her resolve. It was probably just the confinement and heat, being stuck inside this metal box, but it felt like the intensity of the cramps were getting worse. She caught herself moaning under her breath when they struck, she tried to swallow the noise but it was never quick enough to remain totally silent. She wasn’t in the mood to field questions or concern from Colleen so she had to get those moans under control. Unfortunately for Alex, when the next contraction appeared it came on so suddenly she didn’t have time to prepare. The pain lanced across her stomach and Alex doubled over gasping, hands flying out and gripping the railing tight, an unusual groan rumbled from her throat.

Having watched her superior endure what were undeniably contractions at this point, Colleen’s concern had only multiplied. If she hadn’t been certain when Alex kicked off her heels (swollen, aching feet weren’t exactly uncommon in pregnancy, right?) or when sweat began to bead on her forehead in contrast to her usual inclement coolness (well, it is hot in here with no air conditioner, and she must be dying carrying around all that belly in such cramped quarters), there was not a doubt in Colleen’s mind when Alex clutched at the railing and moaned, low in her throat. It sounded so unlike Alex’s clipped, sharp tone. Almost animalistic, like something natural, a sudden instinct to vocalise as her belly contracted.

“Er—ma’am?” Colleen kept her distance, eyeing Alex’s heaving swell. “Are the, um, cramps getting stronger? They seem—well, they seem like they’re closer together too. Almost like—”

She didn’t dare say the word. Alex, she knew, didn’t like contradictions to what she said.

Instead she answered her boss’s previous question. “It’s probably been, oh I don’t know, maybe an hour or so?”

At the other woman’s panicked questions Alex managed to grit through her teeth a dismissive “… I’m fine!… mnghhh!” Alex tried to straighten up, to preserve appearances, and found she couldn’t - not while her muscles were still seizing. Instead another groan slipped from her mouth before she could clamp it shut.

“I-I think- they might be more than just cramps…” Alex panted as the worse seemed to fade away. “I think these m-might be… hoooo practice labour pains.” The Exec admitted hesitantly to her employee, removing one hand from the railing to circle around the heavy weight of her hanging bump.

She had a reputation to maintain, appearances to uphold, and Alex didn’t want to show any kind of weakness to anyone with an employee ID card. But as the waves continued she was forced to admit to her one companion she was indeed suffering from Braxton Hicks contractions. But that was fine, Colleen was only one person and after today she would be going on maternity leave and wouldn’t have to see anyone for months.

But this baby better quit practising for the main event soon. The false pains were aggressive and forceful, the weight of the baby’s head pressing so hard against her pelvis it felt like it was about to drop out any second. She hoped by the time they were rescued the baby and her body would have settled down. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“They better get us out of here soon…” Alex breathed heavily and quietly. Then realising her company added “I’ve got a meeting at 4pm with the CEO.”

Colleen tried to keep her face neutral, even as her boss doubled over groaning, her belly tight around her middle. Alex’s thighs were wide in her pencil skirt and Colleen could tell by their restless shifting and the slight bending of Alex’s knees that she was feeling the urge to spread them even more, not quite a squat yet but unable to stand with any poise anymore. Inwardly, though, her thoughts were racing. Braxton Hicks weren’t powerful like this, were they? After all, if they had forced a woman like Alex into a panting dishevelled mess, they must be pretty strong.

‘Should I tell her it sounds like she’s having contractions?’ Colleen deliberated. By the minute, she could tell Alex was progressing into her labour. Even as she struggled to maintain her image her body was getting her ready for birth, and Colleen knew that even her boss’s willpower wouldn’t halt such a natural, primal process. Then again, if Alex wanted to be in denial, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. They still had to wait in this lift until rescuers showed up—Colleen might as well not lose her job on top of it.

Instead, she nodded again. “Yes, ma’am. Of course, practise pains. I’m sure they’ll subside before long. They’re supposed to be quite irregular.”

“Exactly… hoooo… I just need to ride them out. It’s fine. Hoooo…” Alex’s usually assertive voice sounded somewhat unsure. She didn’t like it.

Both hands returning to the railing, facing the wall, Alex found her weight shifting from hip to hip. Her stance was wide - when did that happen?- and her blouse was damp with sweat. The boss was grateful there was not a mirror in this lift, dreading to think what she looked like.

The false pains didn’t seem to be fading anymore, staying at a constant ache in her womb with agonising peaks shooting across her back and down her thighs. She prided herself on her ability to handle any challenge, but for the first time in her life she doubted her willpower to make it through. If this was practice labour she did not want to experience the real thing. Perhaps she should organise a c-section when she gets out of here.

The pressure in her pelvis was getting almost unbearable, and combined with the false contractions that continued to strike, she felt herself losing control of her autonomy. Her body was shifting and moving of its own accord and ghastly noises were coming from her mouth. Her hips were on fire, a weight pressing and splitting them apart. She bent over gripping the railing, flat back and hips shifting backwards. Her legs tried to stand further apart but were stopped by the tight fitting pencil skirt around her thighs. The groan that left her mouth was unrecognisable, like she was possessed. As the pressure built and built, she could feel an urgency sinking lower and lower. Before she knew it the sounds from her mouth had deepened, her heavy breathing ending with an animalistic grunt.

Colleen continued to observe as Alex made noises that she couldn’t even reconcile with the aloof, in-control Alex that she knew. Wide-eyed, she couldn’t stop staring as the laboring woman paced the tiny space. Her grunts, the way she hissed through her teeth, with every sound she appeared closer and closer to giving birth. Her waddle was pronounced, almost bowlegged as though there was a deep weight between her legs, forcing them apart and pulling her closer to a grounded position. ‘Holy shit,’ Colleen thought. ‘She’s about to drop her baby!’ She didn’t know a thing about midwifery or delivering a child. Much less delivering for a mother who refused to even admit she was in labor.

Colleen tried to track Alex’s contractions in her mind as they ramped up in both frequency and intensity, but found it hard without a watch or a way to tell time. Eventually she gave up, reassuring herself that the next stage of labor wasn’t yet upon them, and that unless Alex broke her waters the baby would remain inside her womb until they could call some paramedics. Still, she didn’t like the fact that Alex appeared to be losing her calm, composed self. Drenched in sweat, grunting and groaning through contractions, her body was obviously telling her it was time, and Colleen wondered if she’d even let her help if it came down to her pushing her kid out into her pantyhose or exposing her heavily pregnant self to a random colleague.

Alex’s grip on the railing tightened as she felt her legs start to tremble. Pressing her forehead against the cool metal wall, she released a shaky exhale. She couldn’t think… hell she could barely stand. Every part of her entire being was consumed and overwhelmed by the pressure and pain between her legs.

In some buried corner of her mind an instinct was telling her to get lower to the ground, to remove her skirt and tights, to open up her legs and hips. Alex fought against the idea, she’d already lost enough dignity trapped in this lift with some entry-level employee, she was not going to make it any worse. But when the next contraction struck, any fighting spirit she had seemed to evaporate.

“Ohhhh god!!!! Mnnnghhhh!” She groaned, long and deep, rocking herself forwards and backwards and clinging on to the only thing keeping her on two legs. “The pressure….. hoooooo…. There’s so much -mngh!- pressure!!! Mnngghhhhh!!!”

Her body sank back deep into her hips, knees dipping slightly in her tight pencil skirt and belly hanging to the ground, her backside swaying in the centre of the confined space. She could feel her muscles squeezing with the force of contraction, trying to do something. The baby dropped even lower and smashed through her cervix. She felt so full, the mass in her pelvis so heavy, and her body screamed at her to bear down.

“No…..” Alex cried aloud against nature's call. “No… don’t…” but her instincts took over and suddenly the mother-to-be was pushing.

“Ma’am!” Colleen cried, startled by such a stark display of utter abandonment from her boss. Her waters hadn’t yet broken. She couldn’t be pushing, could she?! Yet Alex was squat-standing and clutching the railing, the backs of her thighs trembling with an immense groaning effort. It sounded more forceful than just enduring the pains in her belly. It sounded as though Alex was actively doing something, putting in a hard, straining effort. Working with her body without a thought in her mind except birthing her baby. Between her spread thighs, Colleen could see the underside of her stomach, hanging low, uterus clenching her belly into a hard, tight ball. The way she bent her knees periodically, grunting uncontrollably each time… it was as though she was trying to force something low and heavy through her bottom. Everything about Alex seemed heavy, gravid.

She groaned again, and Colleen gasped, “Ma’am, are you pushing?! You can’t push, not yet!”

Tentatively, she placed her palm against Alex’s swaying lower back, curving with the weight of her belly. She began to rub and massage the tense muscles, not knowing what else she could do to help. The way Alex seemed consumed with birthing, Colleen didn’t think she even noticed her.

“Unnhhh- I’m not pushing! I’m not- ohhhhhhh- I’m not in labour damn it!!!” Alex’s staccato breaths carried her continued denial of what was happening to her body.

She gasped, breath holding in her lungs, and her body pushed again without instruction. Alex ignored the faint relief that was gained with the push, the satisfaction of the productive contraction, the moving of the baby as it neared its exit. But then the urgency faded, the contraction eventually dimmed, and Alex could think again. She had control again.

It was then she noticed the hands that were rubbing her lower back. Startled Alex abruptly stood upright and glared at the presumptuous woman beside her. “What on earth are you doing?” Alex sniped, waving an arm and shooing her away.

The nervous employee recoiled back and Alex shifted around the space again, both hands holding the large belly about to burst out the sweat-dampened blouse. “I am not in labour.” Alex repeated firmly, forcing the confidence as if willing it to be true. “I am not having this baby, and I don’t need your help.”

Colleen barely managed not to gape. Here Alex was, belly gleaming with sweat under her soaked blouse, contractions ramming her incessantly, curly hair damp and mussed in the heat of the lift. Her cheeks were splotchy and red with exertion and her chest was heaving, from the release of the contraction or from the force of her obvious pushing, Colleen couldn’t tell. All she did know was that her boss was actively bearing down, that much was clear. She would have thought anyone else was joking, but she didn’t think Alex had a sense of humor. She had to be in denial, Colleen concluded. To squat down and push like an animal like that, then brush off help like it was nothing—if nothing else, Alex certainly had willpower.

Of course, modesty and willpower goes out the window when you have a baby coming out of you, and from the noises and pushing grunts Alex had been making, it couldn’t be long now.

“I-I’m sorry,” Colleen stuttered. “Those…. practice cramps seemed so intense. You seemed like—well, like you were—“

Under Alex’s exhausted glare, Colleen faltered and trailed off.

“Uhh, I told you… I am not in labour- hoooo- I am fine!” Alex swallowed a moan before it slipped out her mouth. “When are they gonna bloody get us -mnnnnh!- outta here!” Standing by the lift doors Alex stared at the vertical line where the two sides of the sliding panels met, glaring at it willing them to open.

The weight of the baby’s head had started to press against her opening, Alex’s legs forced even wider apart with the sensitivity. Buried under layers of denial and facade, the unconscious sense of urgency had been joined by desperation and it was making its way to the surface.

Her fingers pulled at her blouse, freeing the thin satin from her skirt and letting it drape down from the significant curve of her belly. The pressure between her legs was beginning to return, Alex could feel it coming. Her arms lifted, hands palming the lift doors, and before she knew it she was banging on the metal to try and get the attention of someone outside this tin can.

The banging didn’t last long before Alex was stopped by the sheer force of the next contraction. Her fingers slowly slid down the lift door as her body crumpled in half over her tight, rock-solid belly. Double over she braced herself against the lift door, thighs widening and knees buckling in a semi-squat, and her body bore down with everything it had. Whether she wanted to or not every muscle was tense and squeezing, pushing the large round shape down down and out of her body. A rumbled grunt echoed from her lungs as she strained and pushed and contracted, and the heaviness between her legs started to burn.

Colleen was hyperventilating, barely able to register her own thoughts over the din of Alex’s furious pushing, grunts and groans erupting from her throat without pause or respite. The baby had to be coming soon, with how forcefully and urgently Alex was bearing down. Colleen’s mind swirled. As Alex pushed she took up the mantle of alerting any outsider to their situation, cupping her hands to her mouth and shouting over Alex’s uncontained moans.

“Help! Help us! We’re trapped in the lift and there’s a pregnant woman in here! She needs help, FAST!”

Alex’s voice rose to a deep bellow, trembling as though she was fighting an exhaustive battle against the baby inside her, bending her knees and opening her hips as wide as they could go in an attempt to drive it down and out. As her voice took on a higher, strained quality, Colleen began to suspect that something astonishing was taking place under her pencil skirt, that with all the pushing she’d been doing, the baby couldn’t possibly be very far from its only way out of her.

“Alex,” Colleen cried desperately. “What should I do?! I don’t know what to do!”

“You- mngh- don’t need to do anything cos mngh- I am not having this baby!” Alex grunted out, palms flat on the metal door, legs bent and wide beneath her skirt. “I am not in labour- hooo- I am not in labour…”

The exec panted the mantra over and over, fighting against her body’s urges to bear down. This baby was not being born in an elevator. She just had to breathe through the pains and she would be in the comfort and safety of a hospital soon, having a c-section damnit. That is what would be happening, not whatever the hell this woman was panicking about. Alex was in control, she always was in control, and the birth of her baby would be no different. She pushed herself off the doors and tried to move, to breathe through it, but the second she turned around her body doubled over and she gripped the railing to keep herself on two legs.

And then the burning got worse - the weight pressing lower, stretching apart her lips. The instinctual need to bear down was no longer a strong suggestion but a screaming demand. Alex was barely aware of her body’s actions anymore, she just wanted it all to stop. All she could do was gasp for air in between the bursts while her body forced the baby lower and lower - the head spreading her most intimate part around its giant surface. I will not have my baby here I will not have my baby here she chanted with every uncontrollable push.

Her thighs pulled the skirt as wide as it would go trying to make room, her whole body weight thrown forward as she leant over gripping the railing, arms locked and knees bent. But her hips weren’t wide enough, her body was too restricted by clothes, yet Alex was frozen to the spot as she grunted and roared with every wave. Soon the growling noise from deep in her throat turned into a pained whimper when the baby’s head pushed right through and fully crowned into her thong and stockings.

Colleen watched in horror as fluid suddenly spurted from between Alex’s thighs, soaking the floor of the elevator, filling the contained space with a musky, almost fertile scent. Alex shivered, lifting onto her toes as she gripped the railing. She looked as though her entire body was being pulled downward with the force of her descending baby. Her stockings were drenched—Colleen could scarcely believe the amount of fluid Alex’s body had let out, and it was still dripping and leaking from inside her skirt. She felt nauseous looking at the spreading puddle beneath Alex’s feet, and thought to herself, no doubt about it, there’s her waters. The release didn’t diminish Alex’s groaning efforts, though; if anything, the sudden breaking seemed to only renew her utter need to birth, nothing impeding or delaying its progress any more.

Except, of course—

Colleen gasped. “Ma’am—Alex—your skirt!”

Alex’s thighs trembled and quivered, spread so far that Colleen could see the hem of her skirt cutting into the flesh of her legs. She was trying to instinctively widen them, Colleen realized. She needed more space, even with them spread so far already, and Colleen could barely imagine the sheer size of the baby coming out of her boss. Then she didn’t have to imagine. As she watched, Alex’s skirt began to tent out slightly, tight against her backside as she doubled over, back flat. Whenever Alex grunted loudly, bending her legs and clutching the railing, the bulge in her skirt grew. That’s the head, Colleen thought, her own head spinning. My god, it’s enormous. It was a miracle they hadn’t been found yet from the noises Alex was making, letting loose guttural groans and roars that echoed in the enclosed space. Her entire face was twisted with effort, teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut. All her strength was going into giving birth to her massive baby, but still, it didn’t seem to be enough, not with her skirt keeping her legs too narrow, her hips too closed. Alex’s skirt lifted and tented more and more, until it seemed to reach a peak. Alex’s voice slipped into a whimper and Colleen blinked, never having thought she’d hear Alex make such a vulnerable, sensitive sound. Then, Alex dropped into another hard push. The tent in the fabric stayed put.

“Your skirt,” Colleen said again, and hurriedly bent to pinch Alex’s skirt up. “Your skirt’s—“

From this angle she could finally see the crown, and drew in a breath. Her boss’s most intimate region was stretched and distended beyond recognition, lips taut around the huge head making its way out of her from behind her thong. The narrow strip of black fabric just contained the head’s huge circumference, cupping it tightly, barely allowing any more space for it to progress. Without room, Alex was stuck with a full crown between her legs, unable to push it out into her stockings.

With her boss barely able to speak anymore, Colleen made an executive decision. “I’m sorry, but we have to get this skirt off. Your baby’s coming, Alex. I can see the head! It’s coming out of you, and you need to let it, okay?! Come on, please listen to me.”

“No….unghhhh!” Alex mewled “I’m not having this baby… not here- ohhhhhhhh!”

The Exec had completely lost all semblance of control; doubled over, hanging onto the railing, legs wide and dipped as much as they could go. Alex couldn’t move. She hissed through her teeth, panting as her labia stretched thin, the baby sitting between her folds. But the baby couldn’t come now! It just can’t. She was at work for fucks sake! And worse, she was trapped in the lift. Real labour takes hours, days, there was no way she was pushing a baby out right now…

Her body argued against her thoughts as everything tightened and contracted once more. Gasping for air Alex tried to fight the muscles bearing down against the ridiculously large mass in her vagina, but panting through the pain didn’t do anything to stop the automatic pushing. Primal and animalistic noises left her mouth as her body pushed, her deep lowing reverberated off the walls.

Grunting at the end of each push, Alex tensed and strained, the instinct desperate to expel the child from her womb. But it wasn’t moving, slipping only the tiniest millimetre into her underwear. Heart racing Alex felt panicked - fighting hard against this birth and yet simultaneously trapped as the baby was stuck, held in by her tight stockings.

“Oh god!!!! Get it out- get it OUT!!!” She cried.

It was all too much; the burning, the fullness, the weight, the pressure. Alex collapsed under it all. She let go of the railing, legs shaking, and she clawed at the hem of her skirt trying to pull it higher, to give her hips more room. It was so tight, and her legs were so wide, her nails scraped across the surface of her stocking covered thighs as she gripped and pulled the black fabric of her skirt up towards her hips. But another wave crested and with it she was consumed by the need to bear down once more. Abandoning her skirt she held fast to the metal railing, her knees buckling trying to pull her down into a squat, but the pencil skirt creaked as the fabric stretched to its limits and she could only dip down slightly and push the baby against the strained clothing.

“I-it’s stuck!” Colleen stuttered. “The head is—” she raised her voice, tried to get through to Alex, but could barely even hear her own words over the almost-inhuman noises escaping from Alex’s throat as she fought desperately against the elastic of her thong, caught between the need to birth and the unyielding fabric of her stockings and the black fabric containing the massive head tightly in her vagina, shoving forward with powerful muscles as it wedged back inside her with just as much force.

She couldn’t open her legs any wider, Colleen saw. They shook violently as she threw back her head and let loose another deafening moan. From Alex’s furious face it was obvious that Colleen didn’t even register as a presence anymore, that the only thing in the world that Alex was thinking about in this moment was the head lodged between her tensed, opened lips.

Only when Alex started screaming that she needed it OUT, right now, was Colleen galvanised into action. She lowered from her crouch until she was kneeling between Alex’s legs. For a brief second, Colleen was in awe of the sight before her; the woman she’d known as a fearsome presence, a powerful executive, had been reduced to a groaning, sobbing mess, birthing into her skirt. Yet, this was her transformation into motherhood, and there was something powerful in that too.

“Alex,” Colleen said. “Alex, you have to stop pushing. I need to get your skirt down.”

She doubted Alex even heard her, but nonetheless she grappled with the clasp of Alex’s pencil skirt. The waistband was held taut by Alex’s widened legs as she tried to allow the baby to pass through, and Colleen was unable to undo the clasp.

“Shi-it,” she licked her teeth and then grabbed both ends of the waistband, pulling hard. The clasp tore off, and immediately the skirt loosened and sagged around Alex’s hips.

“Oohhhhhh… get-it-off-GET-IT-OFF!!” Alex yelled, feeling the tightness of the skirt loosen around her middle.

She had to push, she had to get this baby out now - location and present company be damned - the torturous stretching and excruciating pain had to stop. And Alex knew there was only way in which it would.

Her employee, whateverhernameis, was pulling the skirt over her widened hips and Alex squirmed and shifted with the fullness and desperation to bear down. When the skirt hit the floor Alex immediately stepped out of it and dropped down fully into a deep squat, roaring with the effort of another push. The woman was behind her, she thinks, but she barely notices… Alex’s arms stretch upwards, hands still gripping the railing, her body hanging off the support and almost swinging in her squat.

Her underwear and stockings were still covering her lower body but the freedom of being able to fully open her legs meant the baby could move further out. Alex pulled in a deep breath and bore down with everything she had. Silent in her efforts as all her focus went inward.

Part of her wanted to feel, to know how much of the baby was born and how much there was left to go, but she daren’t release her vice-like grip for fear of collapsing and losing her pushing position. She gasped, her throat scratched and raw, and clamped her teeth together and growled another push. The baby was coming, she could feel it slipping out and this time it wasn’t retreating. Harder and harder she leant into the push and finally the head popped out into her stockings. Alex sobbed with relief and collapsed back into her member of staff.

Colleen cried out in surprise as Alex fell back into her arms, leaning her entire body weight into them as though she had used up all of her strength, drained from pushing the huge head through her overstressed opening, and beneath her more fluid flooded the floor of the lift from the sudden release. Colleen gingerly caught her by the armpits, and Alex’s knees jackknifed apart, jutting upward as she lowered her bottom and hips beneath her, the head dangling between the apex of her thighs. She moaned, breathless, closing her eyes. Tear trails marked their way down her cheeks. Damp and shivering, with a baby hanging out of her, Alex was totally vulnerable to Colleen, hardly seeming to even notice her exposure or dependence on her.

Colleen couldn’t help but smile down at her superior as she swayed and panted in her arms. An hour ago, Colleen might have received a harsh glance for even brushing her fingers as she handed her a coffee. Now, she was holding her up while she prepared to push her baby into the world.

“Go on,” Colleen urged. “Feel the head. It’s out now. You’re almost there.”

“What? Hoooo… it-it’s out… the head?” Alex could barely catch her breath to form words, her full breasts heaving up and down on her belly as she gasped for air.

Somehow the mother-to-be was still upright in her squat but no longer holding the rail, somewhere in her mind she knew the other woman was quite literally holding her up to birth but Alex couldn’t bring herself to pay it any mind. Her only focus was her child emerging between her legs. With a trembling hand she placed a hand downwards and felt, through the sheer stockings, her baby’s head.

“Oh my god… hoooo… I’m having the baby…”

Through all the denial Alex’s brain struggled to compute what was happening. She had fought against it so fiercely, so vehemently, and yet very clearly beneath her fingertips was a baby’s head.

“My-my tights… I’m still wearing my tights?! Oh no… the baby…the tights are over his head… have to get them off!” Alex shifted awkwardly, unsteady in her movements but seemingly desperate to free her emerging child from the confines of her stockings.

“Hoooo…. Ohhhh no….” Alex suddenly whimpered. “Ohhhhhhh I n-need to p-push again…. No… need-tights-off…Don’t push… mnnghhhh…”

“Hold on,” Colleen muttered, working out the logistics of removing Alex’s stockings with her squatting and crowning a baby into them. She heard Alex’s hushed voice, articulating her primal urge to bear down once again.

“Just a moment,” Colleen said, crouching lower while supporting Alex’s labouring body, wrapping her thumbs around Alex’s waistline.

She was close enough to smell the subtle aroma of Alex’s deodorant and the natural odors of birth on her, and see the sweat beaded on her neck. She saw every one of Alex’s muscles tense, her tendons standing clear. Alex moaned, already in the forceful grips of another contraction. Her moan tightened and deepened, and Colleen had listened through enough of her contractions to know that she’d begun to push against her will.

“Alex! No pushing, just hold on a few more seconds,” Colleen said, frantically tugging the stockings down her waist and glutes. Unfortunately, Alex didn’t seem to have any more seconds in her.

“Ohhhh GOD,” she bellowed. “Oh, I’m PUSHINGGGG!” She bore down relentlessly, and Colleen saw the head give a surge against the tight fabric.

Colleen cursed again. Between the baby being squeezed into the stretching fabric and Alex’s parted thighs and widespread knees, there was no way Colleen could even slide the stockings past her crotch. Which meant she couldn’t access Alex’s underwear either. The tent grew and shoved down toward the floor impossibly as Alex sank into her push.

Hopefully, she won’t be too mad about this, Colleen thought, then she seized fistfuls of fabric and tore, ripping a seam large enough for the head. Then she looped her finger around the thong and quickly pulled it to the side.

‘Okay! Okay, I think it’s free!” Colleen announced.

“Ohhhh fuck!!!! It’s coming outtt!!!” Alex cried, gasping a desperate breath in between her body’s involuntary pushing and she felt the burning ring return.

A deep and gravelled roar rattled her throat as the shoulders stretched her sore and sensitive lips. Her baby… it was coming out… in the elevator at work! She couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Gripping her knees she fully leant into the contraction, using every bit of it as her hips sank towards the floor and her muscles pushed.

Suddenly she yelped and jolted in Colleen’s arms as one shoulder slipped free and Alex quickly and instinctively let go of her knees to put both hands between her spread thighs. The baby’s head and neck were in her uncertain hands and she grunted, low and long, desperately calling on every ounce of strength she had left to get the infant out.

With a roar-turned-wail Alex cried out as the baby slipped from her body and shot into her waiting hands.

Up. She had to bring him up, had to hold him. In a fraction of a heartbeat Alex had pulled the baby from between her legs and held the slippery newborn against her chest.

“Y-you’re h-here… oh baby… you’re here…” Alex sobbed, wiping the blood and fluids from his face. It was scrunched and red, eyes not yet open, his body curled up tight. Then his fists pushed against her breast, legs kicking and discovering new sensations, and the little bundle let out a high-pitch cry as he opened his eyes.

Colleen let Alex slip from her arms to the elevator floor, cupping her baby gently in her arms and murmuring softly. She rocked slightly, and even in the enclosed space it seemed to Colleen as though Alex was in her own world, far away from anyone or anything else. She backed away, allowing Alex her moment to meet the child she’d worked so hard to carry and birth. She didn’t think she’d be able to see Alex as she had before, the untouchable executive. Instead, she’d witnessed Alex’s most intimate, vulnerable moment, even helped her through it. She smiled to herself and Alex cooed, her face close to the baby at her breast.

The quiet peace of the lift was disrupted by a banging on the metal ceiling.

“Hey—! Is someone in here? And, is that a baby crying?!”

Colleen met eyes with Alex, and laughed weakly. “I don’t suppose this qualifies for a promotion, does it?”